check this out!

I could be writing about kayaking on Puget Sound. I could be writing about dealing with moldy straw bales and musty barns. I maybe even could be writing about potlucks and sunsets on rocky beaches as seals played in the waves. And of course, there's the goat skin that will be needing some explanation...

Instead, I need to take some time to tell you all about something amazing. Three friends of mine from the Farm where I used to live are running a marathon this October. They're leading a relay and raising money for the Farm, and along the way, working to raise awareness for mental illness and the lives it touches.

Living at the Farm for three and a half years gave me an invaluable opportunity to learn how mental illness affects so many lives. And it also brought me into contact with countless amazing people: people of compassion, of courage, of hope. One of the greatest things I learned from living and working there was how important community is in combatting the effects of mental illness as well as the stigma and ignorance surrounding it. I learned how much we need all of the people in the communities in which we surround ourselves and how far we can carry each other through difficulties.

I'm truly inspired by their passion for this run and the cause they're supporting. Please take some time to learn about my friends' project. If you feel so moved, they (and the whole community) would appreciate any financial generosity you could afford. Even taking a moment to learn about mental illness and those who work to help live with it is worth the time. Help fight the stigma!

http://run4gouldfarm.blogspot.com
www.firstgiving.com/run4gouldfarm

kismet and health care, island style

I’m always on the lookout for signs from God, the Universe, Destiny, whatever you want to call it. Mostly, I look for cues to what my next big move should be: where should I live or what work should I do? Sometimes, I manage to remind myself of the little omens and gifts of generosity that land in my path.

The Universe gave me two things today: a trumpet and a tetanus shot.

My wonderful hosts are on an excruciatingly kind but misguided mission to get me to stay here indefinitely. I don’t know what they’re thinking; I work slowly, I eat a lot, and I take a long time in the shower. And I smell funny. However, they believe that if I join a small Latin band I’ll just spontaneously sink roots on Lopez, so they introduced me to a brass player here who happens to be forming one. And today, Al walked in the door with a Conn, on loan for free, from the school. My own horn (affectionately named The Beast), also on loan from my very generous and talented cuz JT, is in PA right now, still enjoying an extended respite from four arduous years of college. But the trumpet seems to follow me around, showing up at the Hacienda Buena Suerte in Spain even, and my lips are beginning to itch...

Ok, so the Universe itself didn’t give me the tetanus shot. A very kind nurse did. Four weeks on a construction sight dealing with power tools and llama excrement hadn’t landed me in the emergency room, but a leisurely day in the garden left me with a gouge from a rusty nail on the back of my heel. After being told over the phone that I could be squeezed in at the end of the day, or the end of the week, I biked my insurance-free self over to the clinic for a tetanus booster.

The nurse was very pleasant after my hour wait, and gently explained all the things that could go wrong after receiving the vaccine. But of course, it’s much better than my diaphragm contracting and my slowly dying of asphyxiation, isn’t it? *Smile* She even made me photocopies of info on the disease and vaccine to take home and ponder with my mommy and daddy. Did you know that all adults should get a tetanus booster every ten years? And that adults who get the shot frequently tend to experience the side-effects of soreness and swelling even more severely than the rest of us? Frankly, I can’t imagine walking into a doctor’s office and asking to be punched in the arm more than once every ten years. But to each his own, I suppose.

After all was said and done, the nurse asked me about my insurance plan. I sheepishly had to reply that I didn’t have one but she just beamed at me. “Well don’t worry; you get 20% off the cost if you can pay the bill today!” So out I walked, armed with this pleasant fact.

“So the vaccine will be $44,” the receptionist said.
“Is that after the 20% discount I get for paying out-right?” I asked.

The woman looked concerned and I was afraid there would be more paperwork or even an investigation into my possibly-fraudulent claim to have no insurance. “Well, we’re not going to give you the discount today, but we’re going to waive the ‘New Patient’ fee. It’s just a charge because you haven’t visited the clinic before.”

I didn’t want to argue, afraid that if I pushed too hard, some miscalculation would give me 20% off the vaccine, but have me paying the likely-to-be-nominal new patient fee twice, so I agreed but asked oh-so-politely what the ‘New Patient’ fee usually is.

“Um, let me see. That would be about... $80. Yes, $80.”

Thank Jesus for traveling karma and connections in small communities.

accolades

It seems I've won an award.

The Golden Delete Key Award goes to bloggers who don't suck. It's for anyone who knows enough to hit "delete" rather than to post worthless crap.

Thanks, Monster Librarian, for thinking that I use the Delete Key with discretion. The truth is, I just don't write, therefore there's a whole lot of crap in my head that would otherwise be posted here if I took the time to sit at a keyboard.

Anyway, I'm glad for the notice and the thoughtful solid gold delete key filled with dark chocolate.

Too bad it's only digital.

aqua chautauqua

I want to run away to join the circus.

A couple of weekends ago, a performance group called Aqua Chautauqua showed up in our backyard. They arrived on the south end of the island on a small fleet of sailing ships, their mode of transportation for their Summer ’08 tour. Several truckloads and a couple of busloads dumped this ragtag group of jugglers, storytellers, musicians, and their assorted accoutrements at our front door. The two other interns and I spent the day setting up a stage, lights, trashcans, and parking signs to prepare for the evening’s performance. Poor Lucy had just gotten off the ferry herself that day, not expecting a circus to welcome her to her new home on Lopez.

After the dust settled (did it really?), we shared a delicious dinner prepared in our kitchen by Chautauqua’s support team. The buffet’s scope (and it’s whirlwind preparation) was reminiscent of my old job in Massachusetts, and sharing it with such a diverse group of people seemed awfully familiar, too. Dinner seemed to flow seamlessly into clean-up and before I knew it, the band was dressed and lined up and the yard was full of islanders ready for a show.

The Fighting Instruments of Karma band led a parade of jugglers, hula-hoopers, and ragamuffins through our yard to the make-shift stage just at the edge of the woods where tents were pitched for the troupe’s sleeping. The show was kicked off with an acoustic guitar sing-along led by Faith Petric, a 93 (and ¾) year-old woman who had witnessed an original Chautauqua. We sang Acres of Clams (we live in Puget Sound, after all) and my mind was cast back to morning meetings on the Farm. The other interns who showed up were amazed that I knew the words to the simple chanty.

So many performances rounded out the night. Jugglers passed clubs back and forth, over and under, and backwards. A group of women hula-hooped on each others’ shoulders. There were folk songs and spoken word/performance pieces by children. Gags and hijinks, displays of flexibility and low-to-the-ground acrobatics drove the performance to its finale: a juggle of nine Objects of Terror that included a cleaver, a torch, an egg, and dry ice.

The whole show was built around entertainment to educate. One of the Chautauqua’s missions is to support community endeavors and build awareness in each place they stop of the community-building issues and resources available. The interns building straw houses were recognized for our work and hats were passed to raise money for my hosts’ 4 year-old granddaughter who had surgery to remove a tumor from her abdomen just a week after I arrived. So many people had come out for the show that I recognized, even after my short time here. There were a gaggle of interns and several resident builders, the people whose homes are being built. I met their families and friends and so many other islanders involved with other community institutions like the four-month-old radio station and the CSA farm.

After the show, as the crowd thinned, Levi and I started a fire in the fire pit in the yard. Those who were left crowded around to fight the chill and guitars appeared. We were regaled with Beatles covers by a band called Abbey Road Live, who had just performed a pay show on the island the night before. Another group, from the Chautauqua, calling itself the Snow Cubs played covers of songs by the Fleet Foxes, the Decemberists, and others. They had tight and haunting harmonies, backed up by guitar, mandolin, and bass. It was a beautiful way to end an amazing day.

Finally, when all the locals had gone home and most of the performers had settled into their tents tucked away in various corners of the property, I headed back into the kitchen. I met a woman named Shine who was part of the kitchen team and she asked me if I was going to run away with them. I suppose my interest was so obvious she could read it all over my face. That night I went to bed to the sounds of pans banging below my room and visions of life in the circus.

breathing room

Wow, a weekend to sit still.  Between island fun, circuses in my backyard, and goodbye parties there has been little time to settle down and process all that's been happening.

I guess the last couple posts haven't really been ultra-revealing about what I'm now up to, so I'll make an attempt at clarification.

I now live on Lopez Island in the northwest corner of Washington.  Puget Sound surrounds our fifteen-mile long piece of submerged mountain and provides a mild summer climate of low temperatures and little humidity to this island group, the San Juans.  The days are breezy and the nights chilly, but the sun is warm in the cloudless sky.

I'm three weeks into an internship here, building affordable housing with a mix of traditional timber framing, strawbales, and earthen plasters.  The organization that I'm with buys land and builds homes for local folk who otherwise wouldn't be able to afford to build for themselves on this island of rising property values and small, mom & pop style businesses.  I'm one of almost twenty young people from all kinds of backgrounds who have been drawn here by the prospect of learning to build sustainable homes in a low-impact way.  The goals of the organization in the project include minimizing costs with materials and implementing a net-zero energy consumption program over the next several years.  We've been spending our days the past few weeks building walls with stacked and cut strawbales, compressing them, and then covering them with plasters made with clay dug from the building site, island sand, and manure and straw from local farms.  Most of the work of cutting and placing bales, mixing plaster, and then applying it is done by hand; we crowd into the framed-out houses as the bales rise higher and then huddle shoulder-to-shoulder against the new walls to cover them with mud before each new layer begins to dry in the sun.

My afternoons have been crammed nearly everyday with workshops, information sessions, potlucks, goodbye parties, and even small trips to the beach parks on the island, each more beautiful than the last.  When there isn't something to occupy my time in the evening, I'm sharing dinner with my hosts, a generous couple who put up interns in their post-and-beam home they built with friends.  They like to cook and the meals are always delicious, usually featuring fresh produce from the garden I help tend as part of my work exchange for my housing.

So that's the paradise I find myself in right now.  What's new with y'all?

i live on an island

I've been one week on Lopez Island in the Puget Sound. It's been a whirlwind of a week here in Northwest Washington, and here are a few phrases that describe my new life:

• island time
• elbow deep in llama dung
• yes, there are llamas here
• farmer's market:  more market, less farmer
• sea kayaking
• straw bale houses
• interns and power tools
• organic EVERYTHING
• sailing on the Sound
• potlucks
• the Lopez Wave
• bicycling everywhere
• fresh veggies everywhere!
• ferry schedules
• free clothes at the dump
• 1500 rubber ducks in a cement truck

Did I mention I've been here a week?  My head is still spinning, but as soon as I can slow it down there will be explanations, reviews, summaries.

PS - The Alaska Roadtrip has officially ended.

the southeast

I haven't posted in a while because I got eaten by bears.

Sorry.

In other news, we finally made it off the Kenai peninsula and crossed through Canada (again) into Southeast Alaska. Our first stop was in Haines, a cute town full of Tlingit art. We spent a day here looking for affordable gifts and native experiences, then it was onto the ferry for a trip down the Alaska Marine Highway to Juneau, the state's capital.

This town is spiffy: small and contained, yet full of activity. Juneau is a major stop along cruise lines, so the place fills with people every day. They hit the myriad Alaska-made souvenir shops and seafood restaurants that run up Franklin Street from the Harbor. Just outside of town are several scenic drives along the waterfront or out to the Mendenhall Glacier, where we plan to hike today. There are trails that take you along salmon runs and out to the glacier itself.

Our next stop is anybody's guess. Possibly Sitka, but apparently each of these communities along the coast has it's own unique flavor and appeal. Our ferry tickets entitle us to three stops between Haines and our final destination, Prince Rupert, BC. But which one?! We're also on the lookout for good kayaking! Maybe we'll see some whales!