A 20th Century Woman

A faint jingle always preceded her and made our little bodies wiggle with anticipation. Aunt Edith opened her door to a linen and lace covered table set with elaborate displays of freshly baked cookies and perfect little sandwiches, crusts removed. As always, the house was in immaculate condition. Truly a feat for a woman nearly eighty years of age. For our part, we used our best manners and sat quietly while tea and glasses of juice were poured.

Aunt Edith was easy to love. She was beautiful; her hair was always coiffed to perfection in soft silver swirls. Around her brilliant blue eyes were lines that expressed a life of love and laughter. Even without prior notice, she seemed always prepared to entertain with delicate treats. She, herself, would never arrive at anyone's house either unannounced or empty handed. Where there were children, her bags always contained an exotic treasure, stacking dolls from Russia or rice paper candy from Japan, perhaps just a few foreign coins, but always something.

It was not just her sweet demeanor and generosity that kept us all in line, it was more her dignified presence. She was an accomplished woman, and she knew it. She was the quintessential modern woman of the 20th century. Born in 1897, she was 23 when women in the US got the right to vote. Raised on an Ohio farm by a single mother of 5 children she learned hard work and discipline at a very young age. Instead of marrying she got her PhD in Home Economics from Ohio State University and spent her life teaching women on farms and in Universities how to save money, clean more efficiently, and prepare the healthiest possible meals for families with limited resources.

Women of her generation generally either had careers or families but not both. Although she was very beautiful, and my mother told me that she had many gentlemen callers, she valued her independence. Perhaps she learned from her mother and from caring for her 4 brothers that a man to look after is not always a blessing. So at the end of her life, her house and property were her own, and she was very proud of this. She had enough money during her final 20 years to travel anywhere that she wished.

Her memories of these trips danced around her in the jewelry that adorned her body. On her right wrist she wore charms from Europe. In her ears were articulated fish earrings from Thailand. Around her neck were mummy beads and a gold scarab from Egypt. But by far, my favorite piece of jewelry was her golden coin bracelet from South Africa worn on her left wrist. It was simply beautiful and it brought to her mind adventurous tales of wild animals and stunning landscapes. There is no doubt that her stories influenced my passion for both jewelry and travel. Without the strong and adventurous woman of our past, we simply could not be the women that we are today.

Thank you Aunt Edith!

*Inspired by the One Minute Writer.

Postcard to Mom and Dad 1992

Photo taken by self timer in Kathmandu, Nepal
the first visit 1992

Do you recognize your daughter? It's November 16th, in Bangkok. Cheryl's out roaming the street trying to find some way to surprise me for my 28th birthday. I'll be calling you tonight, but thought you'd appreciate the photo. Don't worry, the clothes are merely an expression of my dramatic self not a new religious persona. Did I tell you we flew into Nepal, flying straight past Everest and had a magnificent view. We hiked in the Himilayas for 6 days sometimes 8 to 10 hours a day, 20 lbs on our backs. We're in Thailand now and are skipping India in favor of the Philippines (less hassles). I've written to Chito and will call Jerry B., my doctor friend from Japan, so that we should have guides for the tail end of our trip. Bangkok is hot and humid and as polluted as ever but we will be heading for the least rainy beaches as soon as possible. Thinking about starting an import business but will wait to see how practical it is. (Mail sent via post-restante.) I'll be home soon.

Just found this post card and thought I would share.

Journey to the Jungle

I hadn't ridden the bus to the jungle for many years.  There were good reasons not to take the bus but it had been such a long time that I had forgotten.  It was not just that the ride is so bumpy that more than once I have slammed so hard into the roof of the bus that I thought I might have done permanent damage to my neck and spine, it is also the constant terror of what might tumble into the road in front of the bus at any time.  Chickens and dogs wander into the roads.  Sometimes the dogs just lay smack dab in the middle of the road and don't bother to move, even with vehicles passing them on both sides.  Cows will also lie in the middle of the road.  The cows are particularly bothersome because if the bus accidentally hit them and killed the cow, the passengers could all be held responsible for the death of the cow which might send us to prison for as many as 12 years.

Large rocks barely attached to the mountainside hover over the road; blind curves yield goats and goat herders; narrow passages at the edges of cliffs are always where other trucks and buses are encountered; and when I look into a ravine, that is where I see the remains of a bus that didn't make it. Then I have to worry about the buses that we encountered coming up from the jungle carrying people, goats, sacks of potatoes, bicycles, women with vegetables and bananas on top.  What if they bounce too hard or take a turn to fast and spill off of the top?

On this trip, a little girl playing too near the road tumbled into the street in front of us.  Our bus screeched to a stop while blasting the horn.  Terrified by the noise the 3 year old began to sob at which point her mother ran out of the house grabbed her up by one arm and gave her a good whack.  Shortly after that, our first pee stop was a dirt hill where men and women squat within view of one another.  It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to bare my bum on the hill.  I had to stake out a place, out of view, where I wasn't also stepping on fly covered human feces.  Fortunately, at the following stop, there were squat toilets with doors and an attendant to keep them from getting too filthy.

It was a significant drop down to the river.  I was hoping that no one had been riding on top.

Next time I think I will fly.

Arrived in Kathmandu

You take the utmost care in washing the food you eat.
Have you ever thought about disinfecting the mental food you consume?


-I just found a beautiful little book of quotes called "Words of the Spirit, thoughts to live by" they are compiled from discourses from Para Pujya Ma.

I am here in Kathmandu and have brought my camera, though unfortunately, I am unable to use my USB port and have no card reader, so I will have to paint the pictures with my words for now.

Kathmandu, has changed very little since my last visit except that things are slightly more expensive and there is even less electricity and more garbage. People seem to have given up on the idea that government will be solving their problems any time soon. As a result, there are more electric generators at shops and restaurants.

I spent much of yesterday visiting with old friends and business acquaintances asking them questions like, "Why can't I find good turquoise any more?" The old charm of the jewelry is rapidly disappearing. I see far less solid silver work and more mixed metal combinations. According to one supplier, fewer Tibetan traders are able to get visas to leave Tibet. Only the very old people are allowed to travel. The result here in Kathmandu is that it is very difficult to find the good turquoise to make Tibetan style jewelry with. We see ugly dyed blues and pieces with out interesting veins and contrast. The change in the silver work is a result of the sad state of the world economy. The cost of silver is quite high right now and no one wants to pay what it is really worth so we see silver fronts on pendants and brass backs or just plain thinner lighter work.

...

Unexpectedly, a good friend decided to join me on the trip. She is a wonderful companion. She is well traveled and has that open minded flexibility that one must have for this kind of travel. I will have to ask her if she minds being a character in my blog before I tell you more about her.

Yesterday, we arranged our journey to the village school. My friends have planned what sounds like a wonderful trip. We will go by jeep up the mountains to the north and a little west of Kathmandu. We have to hike for 45 minutes carrying sleeping bags clothes and books. Perhaps it will take a little longer for me to get to the village school where we hope to talk with the children and arrange a letter exchange with the the children at my boy's school in Ohio, USA. We will stay over night in someone's home in the village. The next day, they would like to take us further north to a place called Tato Pani, the name means hot water and it is probably the highest hot springs in the world. It is not the same Tato Pani that is on the Annapurna trek. After that we are going even further north near the Tibetan border to visit a beautiful village and see a spectacular view of the Himalayas. I promise that I will take photos and if I am not able to upload them now, I will when I return.

If you have any photos of school children in your area, could you please send me a few photos to butternutsquash2@gmail.com. Don't forget to tell me which country you are in. I would like to have some images to share with the Nepalese students when I arrive. We leave for the village early 5:30 am Sunday morning March 7, 2010 in Nepal, so if you have them please send them today.

Peace!

Under Siege in a Strange Land

In ordinary times, a trip to the gas station was not remarkable, but now, I looked carefully around me for parked cars with passengers, potential enemies, lying in wait. Was it my imagination, or were the streets quieter than usual? I couldn't put off getting gas any longer or I would run dry. No one was at the pumps, so I took advantage of the empty space and strategically pulled around to the back side of a pump so that the pump would be between me and a possible sniper. I only filled the tank half full and I retrieved my credit card quickly. I was successful, no shots fired. I speed off toward the daycare to retrieve my 4 year old.

They had just instituted a new system at our daycare. Parents would no longer park their cars and walk in to retrieve their children. Now, we waited in a line of cars. When our car reached the door a teacher would identify us and send our child out. Only one child would be allowed to leave. If someone was going to shoot children at school, as the Sniper had already done, it would be only one child at a time.

During the years that we lived in the DC there was an average of about 250 murders a year in that city. But this was something different.  Looking at a map of where the shootings happened, they were all around us, North, South, East and West of our home.  There seemed to be no pattern, no motive, just someone with a gun lying in wait at a gas station, a bus stop, a Home Depot, a school… For the first time in my life, I could imagine what a city under siege might be like.

When it was all over, my neighbor said that he had seen him. He had come face to face with John Allen Muhammad. After murdering, he showered at our YMCA, our Y, where we took our children!

People always ask me if I am afraid to travel by myself. The answer is no. For the most part I have always felt safer while traveling abroad than I do in the United States. There are certainly countries that I do not choose to travel to, but keep in mind that the average murder rate in the United States is 5.4 murders per 100,000 people, as compared to 1.84 murders per 100,000 people in Nepal where I travel most often. The United States is indeed a strange land having 90 guns for every 100 citizens. This makes the USA the most heavily armed society in the world. -Information gathered from Wikipedia.

Pondering Divine Intervention

Street Dogs in Thailand are often hairless and covered with scabs. This photo is from Thai Pulse.

Pondering Divine Intervention
By Butternut Squash

A spotlight fixed on a steam locomotive that was about to charge across the bridge. Moments after the engine crossed, the canons boomed from the river spewing water up all around the bridge which was rigged to collapse. The look-out towers were in flames and men on fire leapt from the bridge. From the boat, I could see everything quite clearly. The music was unbearably loud and I couldn’t help worrying about the ecosystems of the river that had to endure the blasting night after night all throughout November and December.

I had traveled with a friend to Kanchanaburi, Thailand, in early December to watch a reenactment of the bombing of the bridge over the river Kwai. After the show we headed to a video restaurant and had a few beers and stayed to watch a movie. However, my friend got tired and decided to return to the houseboat where we were staying. She left with a few other drunken backpackers that were headed the same direction. Shortly after midnight, when the movie ended, I headed off toward the house boat alone.

Earlier in the evening the streets had been full of cars and pedestrians, but I found it to be disturbingly quiet when I entered the dark humid night. There were few electric lights in the neighborhood and I was feeling vulnerable without people around. I thought that it might be quicker to cut through the temple grounds, so I turned at the stone gate and walked briskly into the center courtyard of the temple.

I saw a shadow move beside the temple, but I kept my pace. It was a bad choice. Very quickly I saw two shadows moving slowly toward me. I stopped. A dog stood in front of me. Its back was arched its head and tail were down and it began a low menacing growl. This mangy, hairless cur had a scabby friend with infected eyes that came up slowly behind him. Within a few seconds, while I was still struggling to decide which way to go, four more dogs arrived. I was now surrounded on three sides by a very hungry looking pack of stray dogs.

My rear was the only side without a dog, but I was afraid that if I turned to leave that I would be taken down and mauled. There would be nothing left of me but a fleeting story of gore for the morning news. I had never had a dog, but I had had a few scruffy cats in my life. So I summoned the persona of my mother enraged by the cat eating hamburger from the dining room table. I stood taller and fiercely smacked my hands together and said, “Bad dogs, go home!” And I marched forward confidently while circling back toward the stone gate from which I had entered. The dogs did not attack but they did continue to growl and followed me closely until I left the temple grounds. A few paces out of the gate. I grabbed a fat stick and carried it all the way to the houseboat.

I have been in some terrible situations in my life, but that was the most frightened I have ever been. The fear made me tremble so badly that I could barely walk, and I felt as if my soul was only vaguely connected to my body for at least the next hour. I still wonder how I could have possibly managed to escape without a scratch.

A World of Good, Inc.

This is the other part of my life. When I am absent from blog ville, I am usually selling jewelry and beads at trade shows. This is how I earn a living, it is part of my creative outlet, and how I help to support people in Nepal. These pieces are traditional Himalayan designs or abstractions of traditional designs. I do modify some of the designs to fit American tastes. Usually, I just have them shrink the designs for us. When I come up with my own designs, it takes a Nepalese crafts person to interpret my idea and make it beautiful. You can see much more including some very modern designs at http://aworldofgood.com/.

beadshows.com

I'm busy placing orders this week, but I will get back to story writing soon. Peace.

American Low Budget Travel Haiku

A River of Red

Driving up I-95

Bored, I fall asleep

...

Cheap Roadside Motel

Stale Smoke and airfreshener

Prostitutes knocking

...

Waffle House coffee

Grits, steak, no pancakes, waffles!

Where is the green food?

...

Room near the tracks

Thin sheet and a lumpy bed

Car doors slam, locks beep

...

How may I help you?

Cheeseburger, fries and a coke

Drive to the window

...

The sunlight wakes me

My body covered in spots

Get the manager!

...

Lesson from the road

Pay twenty dollars extra,

Get yourself some sleep.