test run

This is a test run.  A short video I made with my macbook to see how they post to my blog.  I might make some videos while in Japan, so I thought I should figure out how before I board the plane.  The drippy-faucet noise in the background?  Yeah, that my drippy faucet that really does exist.  It's been dripping for months.  Need to get that fixed.  And my walls aren't white - they are yellow.  But in the video they look white and I was nervous.  

 

*******

Today I sold my canary.  I was sad and my heart hurt when I had to finagle him into a brown lunch sack and staple it shut.  I did poke holes for ventilation.  Sometimes I make quick/definitive decisions.  Going to Japan being one of them.  Selling my bird, another, which I concretely decided this morning when I woke.  My life as it is right now is not conducive to owning a pet, even a low-maintenance bird.  I leave town sometimes.  Or the country.  Also, I am anti-apartment-smelling-like-animal.  He didn't make my place always smell like pet - but enough that sometimes when I came home that was the first thing I noticed.   Which really was my fault and not his.  I didn't have (or take, whatever) the time to make sure he had his daily bath and to change the paper tray one to two times a day.  The timing just wasn't right for us, I guess.

He's going to a home where there are other canaries.  A young man bought it for his mom for her birthday.  They came together to pick him up with some small kiddos in the back seat.  I met them out on the street.  I could tell she would love this bird, and that she would be around during the day to be more attentive than I was.  I will miss him - but I hope he's happier at his new home.   

The Riots

The morning shift ended at the beginning of siesta.  It was time to head back to the volunteer house for lunch.  Probably greasy oil-boiled rice was part of the menu.  And maybe some soggy cake for dessert.

There had been riots going on down by the university several months back.  Gives the college students something to do during their free hour, I guess.  Something about the government, and electricity and power and prices....

The protesters would throw large pieces of wood into the roads to disrupt traffic, especially the buses.  They had something out for the public transit system.  Rocks were being thrown too, at buildings as well as at buses.  Our route was right through the middle of all of this, so during this time we were directed from the Top to take another route.  It was bothersome, and added time to our 30 minute walk to and from the orphanage.  It had been a while since the university students were restless, so we were on our normal course headed home.

There's always more people out in the streets and on the sidewalks at the start of siesta...but it seemed a bit more stalled than usual.  The number of people were thickening and the pace was that of apprehension.  Curious, me and the other group members (2 or 3 others) continued through the mass to see what was going on, weaving our way - trying to get the best view of what, we didn't know.  We slowed.  We saw nothing.

As quickly as we saw nothing the people a ways down the sidewalk turned towards us and started to run.  Fast.  It hit like the domino effect and everyone was turning and running.  Fast.  We turned and ran with the crowd.  Wondering what was going on I looked back to see what was chasing us.  A tank.

I ran faster.

With adrenaline as charged as I have ever had it, we were fleeing in confusion with the masses.  The tension in the air was valid.  It was wild.  We came up on a cross street and darted quickly to the left with a handful of others.  Hopefully the tank wouldn't be turning left as well.  We ran into the entry way of a small shop.  It was locked.  Siesta.  Great.

We waited a while until things seemed to dissipate.  Then, as the site leader, I told everyone we would be taking the long way home today to avoid any more run-ins with tanks.  I guess the riots were back.

This is an excerpt from 9 years ago that I emailed family and friends.  I'll let the 20 year old me tell the rest of the story.

today i had a grand adventure! so the riots have started again. prices are going up and so are students tempers. it's great. anyway - yesterday we walked through a group of student throwing rocks at policemen - etc and just barely made it through in time. no tanks yet - but tear gas everywhere. so i was kicking myself for not having my camera, because there would have been some really cool pictures. so today i devised a plan!! hee hee. we got out of work right on time and instead of being the responsible site leader and direct our path down a calm, mellow, boring street - i decided to be an adventurous photographer! now take note - I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING THAT WOULD PUT SOMEONE ELSE IN DANGER OF DANGER - I AM VERY CAREFUL AND SERIOUS ABOUT SAFETY!!! so - we walk through the crowd and got to the safe side of the street. all is well - and we are out of harms way - but stick around to get some pictures. so the rocks are being thrown at the policemen who have those cool clear shields to protect themselves. and soon everyone starts running and the tear gas starts shooting and spreading - while i am loving it and taking pictures. i hope i got some good ones. i REALLY hope i got some good ones - because now we are taking the safe way to work and etc. but the tear gas got us and man! does it burn. but it was great. so that's all. but all is safe and well here in cuenca - it really is.  

From the last session of riots in the area, I had heard there was one casualty.  An innocent bystander.  The bank windows were broken and I think some bus windows too.  I wrote this a few days before my 21st birthday...and just in a matter of weeks the city would return to it's quaint charm.  A peaceful and lovely South American city rich in it's culture.  And in just a matter of months they would all be celebrating and having a big city-wide water fight.  Carnival.  But at that time, for those few weeks, they were angry and there was violence.  It's interesting.

The only other time I felt or saw danger in Ecuador was when I was approached by a small group of sleazy Ecuadorian men on my way back to the house.  Rule number 1 was "Never Be Alone", and the only time that I was, I got reminded of why I wasn't supposed to be.  I glared at them.  And when they got close I told them "don't touch me," in my broken and pathetic Spanish.  I was scared and shaking inside, but I had to appear tough.  When they reached I yanked my elbow and stood my ground then walked away.  (I should have ran!)    

All they got was my water bottle.  Fools.  (Who's the fool?)      
   

My attempt at being a National Geographic On Assignment Photographer.

 

Iron and Board

A few days ago I said to myself, "I really need an ironing board.  And I'd like a new iron too."

The next day my friend pulls up in his truck.  "Hey!  Do you need an ironing board?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"I have an iron too, if you want it."

taken back 9 years ago

Gloria is feeling mostly better.  Getting over a two week cold.  She appears at my door occasionally to tell me various things...like my blankets out on the lawn got wet last night, Morgan's wife just had surgery and maybe they'll come down after she recovers...it's been forever since he's been here; new heaters are being installed...etc.  It's fun when I hear my clunky door bell ring, followed by her voice.  Then her smile.

I never did get the garage cleaned out and organized.  But I did clean and organize my chez.  I am adamant about leaving and returning to a very tidy house.  Sweeping, mopping, laundry,...de-junking.  I went through most of my belongings and filled several garbage bags full of shoes, socks, shirts, pants, jewelry, hats....you name it!  Anything I haven't worn or used in a while got the toss.  I am getting pretty good at keeping it simple; getting rid of the unused or unnecessary, and where needed, replacing it with quality items that are meant to be used often and for always.  I am sure I'll do another stint after Japan.  Japan has that effect on me.

And even though I leave in less than a week, my thoughts have been with Ecuador.  Strange.  Nothing specific.  Just that it is there, and that I was once there.

I have tried several times to get on here and pull some Japan pictures to post....but I guess I'll get to that another time.

*****

I arrived 9 years ago this month.  My first memory of Ecuador is the humidity, when we stepped out of the airport and onto the bus.  My second memory is banana groves.  Lots of those down by the coast.  My third memory is leaving the flat plains and banana groves, and approaching the Andes.  Even from a distance they were impressive.  They seemed to approach us rather than us approaching them.  And with each mile they got bigger and bigger - I can still feel the awe of looking at those mountains for the first time.  So green, had I ever been anywhere so green?  At the base of the mountain the van/bus stopped.  Everybody out of the van.  Everybody on top of the van.

They know how to commute in Ecuador.

Jackets...blankets, we were all piled on top.  The temperature would be dropping with the sun and there would be a dramatic change in elevation.  The air was cool and the colors of dusk were settling in.  We passed little huts and shacks, people walking with donkeys, people walking alone.  Simple and basic living conditions mixed with the marvel of nature.  You learned quickly not to be surprised at most anything you saw.  But you did still wonder.  

Fog set in.  Then a thick fog set in and it chilled me.  We were passing through a cloud.  And when our little white van, sputtering up the Andean mountain road with a load of young single girls on top, rose above the fog - I lived a very beautiful and breathtaking moment that has become a part of me and has stayed with me.
    

We had risen above the city, above the plains, above the banana plantations and fog...and all we could see was a sea of gold for miles - it was endless.  It was marvelous.  And it was completely different than when you see a "similar" view from an airplane window - because there, we were apart of it - out in the open air; tangible, trees, the mountainside.  The glow of the sun resting upon on our faces - there was nothing between us and that moment. 

And that, that is my third memory of Ecuador.  My introduction to Ecuador.

***

 

I passed this house everyday on the way to the orphanage.  When I think of black and white checkered tile - I actually am thinking of this image here.  I used to stop at these gates and just gaze...wondering who lived there, what was life like, and I wanted to enter.  There was something enchanting about the place that pulled me.

  

There's a rawness to life that you feel when living in a 3rd world country.  And not that this same image isn't seen here in the US - it is.  But it's just different.  I am trying to figure out how to describe it and I am lacking a proper way of putting it.  

   

Cattle, sheep, taxi...classic.  I love this picture.  We used to come up to this school once a week to teach.  CRaZY bus rides.  Crazy.  I was always sick afterward.

This was the view out the back patio.  Picturesque.  See how close the clouds are?  I never felt so physically close to the heavens than when I was here.  It was unique to be in this region for a time.

More to come - about riots, jungle treks, and the work.  

***

I found this little airplane in my car the other day.  Curious.  I wonder where it would take me if I boarded?

a 12 string guitar

My strings are wound too tight.  Everything inside me is twisted too thin.  My high E's, an A, a D and B and both G's have already snapped...the others are on the verge of following suit.  If this keeps up I won't have anything left to make pretty music with.  I will be a dead, empty 12 string-less guitar with a mess of out-of-control and wildly curly steel everywhere.

I will be the aftermath and results of a crazed rock star.

For too many days and weeks (months?) I have been home only long enough to unlock my door, tiredly move myself to the bathroom in the dark, turn on the light, hypnotizedly wash my face, leave the bathroom, turn off the light, non-coherently stumble through the darkness while removing shoes, socks, etc. and then drop into bed.  Drop.  And then not be able to fall asleep for at least an hour or so.  When I wake I have just enough time to find something to wear before needing to head out the door.  These days this often includes a hat to make up for being too tired to fix my hair properly.  Sometimes I do take a few minutes to post at the end of the day.  Obviously.

My clothes from the day before lay strewn across the other side of the bed, on the towel stand in the bathroom, or on the floor of any room.  Just pick one.  And since I don't have time to clean them up in the morning, my closet is turning inside out.  My guts are turning inside out.  I am going to scream.  But really I just want to sleep.  And have one, just one evening or weekend to be.  My friend has fairly new triplets.  I bet many days she wants to scream louder than me, I'm just guessing.

So tonight I want to crawl into my soft bed and hold a little plush pillow close to me...and I want someone to crawl into my bed and hold me close to them...and tell me it will all be alright.  That I'll be alright.  Someday it will be all right.

And if I cry, they'll just hold me tighter.

I'd like some sprinkles too...

"You can't have your cake and eat it too."  A saying we all know, and probably at some point in our lives have used or maybe even been told.

I think that sometimes we do not think too much about what we are actually saying.  Especially when it comes to sayings.

Yes, I'd like some cake.  And yes, I would like to eat it as well.

"Have your cake and eat it too" just doesn't really fit with it's intended meaning...it's really ridiculous, actually.  Who has cake, but doesn't eat it?  And if they do - what's wrong with that?  Shouldn't it be enjoyed?  Isn't a part of life about eating cake?!

And I'd like mine with sprinkles.

In all my vigorous curiosity I googled the phrase.  It's earliest use dates back to 1546 as "wolde you bothe eate your cake, and have your cake?"   Which does make much more sense.  You can't eat your cake and then have your cake...because once you have eaten your cake, it's gone.  (Unless of course you are given or take a second piece.  Sneaky.)

I understand the sayings' intended point.  Very well, actually.  Sometimes you just can't have this AND that - because they are opposing haves or wants...the impossibility of having it both ways, if both of those ways are conflicting.  Like not being able to move forward and backwards at the same time...unless you are traveling at the speed of light.  Or maybe it's...you can't have both, you have to choose.  If you have 43 bucks and you spend it all on a desirable shirt, you will not be able to get that pair of shoes you really want because you are out of money.  You simply cannot get both (don't listen to your credit card).  Period.  So you have to choose.  One or the other.  Not both.  (Hope for a sale).  Or maybe it's, 1+4 does not = 7.  You will never be able to add 1 with 4 and get 7.  I get it.

It's just that if someone gives me cake, I am going to eat it.

*****

The day is drawing to a close. I am going to draw a bath.  And soak in it too.  With bubbles.

a few things

a few things must happen in the fall.

one is to clean out/reorganize the garage.  which i plan to do...this saturday.  morning.  in the morning.

another is to go to the symphony, or an organ recital...or a quartet or jazz ensemble.  i have found great concerts...but all of which i will be gone for.  ho hum.  i am sure i will be able to drum up something before the 23rd.  If needs be, my sister's and niece's piano recital could count for this, it was overly enjoyable.  I was so impressed.

a drive through the fall foliage.  my new-found friend from Iowa has inspired me a bit on this one.  gravel roads....i'll go find me a gravel road and follow it.  although i might have fulfilled this venture when a few weeks ago i drove up guardsman pass and back down one of the cottonwood canyons - i was on a gravel road for part of that.

plenty of time should be spent out of doors, absorbing all things sensory which are so abundant and penetrating this time of year.  and it needn't be in the campy kind of way either...just a walk down the avenue will suffice.

carving of a pumpkin.  you're never too old for that.  of course, i'll be gone for that as well. and the making of a really gourmet soup based from any assortment of squash.  maybe i'll have a soup party.

as the mornings come i am reminded again and again that we are getting deeper into the season.  my bird sings a little later these days.  the sun waits a little longer to rise up, making it harder to get out of bed and i just want to stay put.  sometimes i groan, and then think i'm ridiculous for whining.  and i am.  but at least no one can hear me.

KK

This is my sister - KK.  She's the youngest girl in the family.  And today is her birthday! 

Celebrate!

It's difficult to get a picture of KK without some sort of funny face...but hey!  We got one.

I love this girl who loves chocolate more than most anything in life.  HaPPY BiRTHDaY!

+650cc

See that little card with the +650cc stamp on it?

That's my card.

I did it!!!!  I learned how to ride a motorcycle....shifting, swerving, stopping, weaving, riding over pieces of 2x4's, u turns, quase-figure 8's, T-CLOCS, slow-look-press-lean, SEE,...wow.

I learned on a 500, tested on a 500 for the -649 stamp then tested on a 883 and a 1200 for my +650 stamp.  HeaVY bikes those last ones were.  At least I thought they were, but they tell me I should go no lower than a 750...oh I don't know.

I have learned so much in the past four days and I AM TIRED.  Today was a long one...almost 11 hours.  But I am so pleased.  And it was so much fun.  I also got 100% on the written exam.

What's next?  Well, I take this nifty little card to the DMV, take the state written test and then get a little sticker, or whatever they put on your license to say 'I can legally ride a motorcycle!'  I still have much to learn and most of what needs to be learned will be done by experience and practice and more practice.  And more practice...until it is all gross muscle memory.  I hope to be able to fine-tune my skills and continue to learn proper technique until it is second nature.

Woohoo.

WooHoO!

Living Life and Overcoming Fears

Today will be my first time riding a motorcycle.

While getting ready this morning I spoke positive affirmations out loud to myself in the mirror..."I can ride a motorcycle, I can ride a motorcycle.  I can turn on a motorcycle, I can turn on a motorcycle.  I am not afraid of motorcycles, I am not afraid of motorcycles."

Because I kind of am.

While reclining in my lazy boy chair in class I stare at the looming black motorcycle in the front of the room..."I dare you," it says to me - and it's been saying that to me for the past two evenings.  When I look at the bike looking back at me my heart rate quickens.

Mike sits to my left again and gives me pep talks.  He used to be the breakman on a train.

Over the past month I have decided to start doing things that scare me or make me a bit apprehensive.  I want to overcome fear.  Mind over matter.  I am approaching 30 and while I am not looking to become reckless, mindless or irresponsible, I do want to lighten up a bit, have lots of fun and do things I have never done before.  I want to experience life a little differently.  I always have loved adventure.

Several weeks ago I went down the alpine slide for the first time.  "The alpine slide scares you?"  I know, really - it's just a simple slide down the mountain side!  I had never ever been, but have always been curious about it, and in a slightly nervous way.  So I grabbed a favorite friend and headed up the canyon on a beautiful fall day to accomplish #1 on my list of things to do to overcome fear.

So I guess #2 is motorcycles.  I have learned a lot about motorcycling over the past two days, about the different types of bikes, bike parts, controls, protective gear, risk factors, safety tips, and learning more about what type of bike I like.  Many things that I had thought I wanted in a bike are now changing because I am becoming more educated...which will help me make better decisions down the road.

I think as long as I breath on the course tonight, I'll be "just fine," as Mike keeps saying.  "And don't think about it too much."

I have thought about adding skydiving to my list.  My friend who went down the alpine slide with me recently went.  She loved it, but said she felt nausea afterward pretty badly, even though she never gets motion sickness.  So....I might have to toss that idea - I have horrible motion sickness and can only imagine what might happen if I jumped out of a plane.  I don't know....I'll think about it.  I could always take lots of dramamine.

First Day of Class

"Everybody find someone sitting next to you, whom you can introduce to the class in a few minutes.  Ask them their name, why they're here, and what they hope to accomplish with this course."

It is a big upstairs classroom, very open - all made from reclaimed wood...the floors, the walls...it feels worn but comfortable... lived in and time-tested.  There is eleven of us, all comfortably sitting in our individual black lazy boy recliners.  I was sitting on the front row to the middle-right of the room.  The girl and guy sitting to my right pair up.  The lazy boy to my left is vacant.

"Mind if I just scoot on over?"

"Nope."

"Hi, my name is Mike."

"Hi Mike, I'm Lorien, like DeLorean...without the De."

"Well, I'll remember that!  My wife's name in Lori, but not Lorien"

He has a pleasantness about him, and you can tell he easily makes friends wherever he goes.  He's the type that's not afraid to talk.

"So what brings you here Mike, what's your past?"

He has a slightly weathered face and happy blue eyes that are framed in silver lined glasses.  His hair verges on white and is a length to be jealous of.  It is pulled back into a braid.  With a neatly trimmed mustache to match the color of his hair, he's wearing a black bandana with white flames which covers part of his forehead.  "Marlboro" is on the pocket of his black t-shirt.

"Well, I rode dirt bikes 30 years ago and I haven't ridden since.  It was either a coupe, or get a bike, so I bought a bike.  A big bike.  What about you?  You ride?"

"No.  I have only been on a bike once for an hour or so - but never really rode.  And I've only been a passenger twice."

"Well..."  he said, with a kind of up and down of his head..."why do you want to learn to ride?"

"It's different being on a bike than in a car.  You feel connected to the world around you...the sights, the smells....the sounds...they are all so tangible.  It's a type of awakening.  I want to experience that - I want to experience the city and the canyons differently."

"Well, there's nothing like it.  You'll love it, you're gonna love it."  He smiles big.

***

Near the end of the class we talk about fears - and different fears we might have about motorcycling.  I tell Mike I am worried about turning and leaning.  "I'm scared of figure 8's." 

"Oh you'll be fine, you'll be just fine."  He starts making movements with his head, which his body follows slightly.  He's riding.  "It's just like...this."  He motions again as if he's riding.  I start to mimic Mike.  Tilt head slightly, lean to the right....Tilt head slightly, lean to the left...I go back and forth, back and forth..."It's kind of like a dance move, huh?"  I start exaggerating the movements.  "Ha! That's it!  Now you've got it!"

Down in the parking lot we say our goodbyes and that we'll see each other again tomorrow.  He'll be waking up at 2:30 am to drive to Wellsville - then on up to Evanston, but he'll be back in time for class.

Until tomorrow!

Me excited on my first day of motorcycle class.