They told us it’s normal to be wildly divided on how we feel about being here, and I’m already convinced it’s true. Yesterday was arguably the best day of the entire summer; today I feel thoroughly spent, insecure, and bleak. Reality has arrived. When I come home from work at night, it’s to nothing. No cats. No mail. No phone messages, with the promise of dinner or ice cream or skating or a trip to the lake. No debriefing the day or catching up on a project or dashing off to some obligation, desirable or not. And, right now, no internet, which is another whole can of worms. Just endless hours of utter solitude. Which is not entirely bad. I spent a very happy morning yesterday intermittently reading fiction. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I can watch DVDs I’ve had for years, but if the computer dies (and it’s threatening to), that pleasure is over.
Today has been a long and many-faceted example of equal and opposite reactions. It was my first day at school, and things were generally ok. They gave me a somewhat functional laptop to use, but are no longer providing teachers with cell phones. I think I made a good first impression on the teachers and administration, but they seem to expect me to just intuit the curriculum and what I’m supposed to teach. The kids are friendly (I got a lot of startled looks, giggles, and handshakes)—and not all boys, as I’d been told—but not very motivated students. The other teachers are young and nice, but there’s no English classroom and no materials. Planning lessons is difficult because I have absolutely no resources to draw on, either at school or at home. Besides my tree in the front window, I’m really missing my massive collection of children’s books. But I digress. The classrooms have computers, projectors, etc, but I’ve been warned some of them don’t work (which really throws a snag in planning anything involving technology). I was informed today that I’ll be charged 100,000 won/month for utilities and more in the winter (which strikes me as a ridiculous sum)—I’d been thinking one advantage of this tiny place was saving money in that department. On the other hand, I’ll be teaching in an after school program that pays extra money, so that may relieve some of my worries. And I don’t know if it will be like this every day, but the cafeteria served up big hunks of tofu with lunch, so I didn’t go hungry.
I’m primarily troubled by the complete lack of information about how to do my job. At orientation, they kept saying our co-teachers would give us the details; now all I hear is “didn’t they tell you that at training?”. I’m scheduled to teach the after school advanced English program tomorrow; I still don’t know the curriculum. I have my schedule, but just room numbers (if that’s what they are)—no levels, no background information, no idea whether I’m expected to present content or just help the students work with it, no answer to my question of how many different lesson plans I need to write per week (do I teach the same thing to everyone? differentiate within grade levels?). I feel like I should be preparing something, but in the absence of parameters, I’m dangling in the wind.
I’m also frustrated that everything I want to do in my “apartment” requires creative improvisation. Tonight’s vegetables were cut with a small camping knife on the styrofoam tray that came with the bananas. (Koreans LOVE excess packaging) I feel like I have so much junk at home, but most of it has an indispensable use. I did take some small steps toward a proper home tonight by picking up a colander, 2 plastic cups, dish soap, a hand towel, and a little rug to dry my feet when I leave the bathroom after showering (there’s no stall on the shower; everything gets drenched), and all for under $10.
Mama said there’d be days like this.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Kiss Me! I Have Swine Flu!
Dont' worry, I don't actually HAVE swine flu; it's just one of the many jokes going around as the ghost of this virus rattles its chains ever louder. The title of this post was a caption one of my classmates invented for a picture of a pig wearing lipstick. Someone sneezed this morning and the whole class went, "ooooohhhhh." One presenter asked for nouns, and--after razzing the Canadian with "Wayne Gretzky", "Calgary", and "maple syrup"--we gave him swine flu (so to speak). Our city tour was cancelled for today due to the frenzy, but so far we’re still on for meeting our new lives on Saturday. I was worried that that was tenuous, but, as my roommate pointed out, if they keep us here longer, they’ll have to continue paying to house and feed 400 people. Fingers are crossed.
I'm also optimistic about it being 10 pm and I’m still functioning. One of my friends slept through the night last night, which was cause for celebration. I haven’t reached that point yet. 4 am seems to be the magic hour for everyone—we can sleep until then; after that we just doze. I just returned from a perimeter walk of the SKK campus (the farthest my chain extends) and realized it’s the latest I’ve been out since arriving here. The place was hopping. Cyclists, several basketball games, lovers strolling, grannies power walking, a young girl & dad playing badminton in the street. Koreans are night owls. Or maybe they just don’t sleep at all. I’ve been warned by pretty much everyone that kids sleeping in class is a common problem. They go from school to extra classes, from there to the library, and routinely get home in the wee hours only to get up at dawn and start again. I don’t know how they manage.
I hope I can manage to get & keep all my ducks in a row for the next week or two. Everything hinges on something else, and everything costs money. (They told us today that the cost of our medical exams, plus a 500-won housing deposit, was going to come out of our first month’s paycheck. Fab. I was wondering how I was going to make it work with the whole thing) I can’t get internet in my apartment until I get an Alien Registration Card, and I can’t get an ARC until I get my medical clearance in the mail. I can’t buy anything until I get my settlement allowance, and I need a bank account to make that happen. (fortunately, I did sign up for one, although I have no idea what the terms are…they provided reps from Hana Bank for us, then in the Q&A today, said that Korean Exchange Bank has better rates on international transfers) I need money to get a phone, too, and possibly the ARC…I lose track. I need a checklist for everything I’ve got to attend to. I have to get my visa changed to multiple-entry if I want to go to Japan or China at all—I figured I’d do that when I actually wanted to go, since they’re not at all cheap, but it sounds like it has to be done when getting the ARC. Somewhere in all that, I’d like to eat and buy stamps, too.
Tomorrow, we’re doing teaching practice all day. Each of us, in groups of 3, has to do a mini-lesson, with the rest of the group as students. I wish I could post pictures—my group made nifty devil and angel crowns to go with our activity on vocabulary for making an argument. Today was a bit of a waste, as they had to come up with some way to fill the hours of time left by the absence of the Seoul tour. A couple groups actually have “Reflection Hours”. Tell me that’s not desperation BS. Virtually all our sessions turn into Q&As. If the speaker opens himself up to it, we never stop asking. I guess everyone’s a little insecure; we are pretty underinformed too.
I should probably be collecting email addresses. Unfortunately, it’s the old thing where I don’t know people well enough to ask for contact info, but I would know them well enough eventually if I had a way to contact them. We’re supposed to find out tomorrow which district we’ll be in…slowly, we stalk useful information. I did learn something rather useful today, and totally unexpected. Every speaker has us doing ask-your-neighbor activities, and everyone I sit near is very aware that I have cats and love Newfoundland. Today, one instructor gave us time to go farther afield, and I actually found someone else who’s cat mad, and who isn’t new to Korea. She told me about cat cafes, like coffee shops with cats hanging about that will sit on your lap and you can play with and feed. I was a bit apprehensive; I asked her if it would depress me and she said no, her own cats in Busan are at one while she’s here—you can pay the place to keep them for you and it’s cheaper than boarding. I need to locate these in Seoul. If I ever get there.
I'm also optimistic about it being 10 pm and I’m still functioning. One of my friends slept through the night last night, which was cause for celebration. I haven’t reached that point yet. 4 am seems to be the magic hour for everyone—we can sleep until then; after that we just doze. I just returned from a perimeter walk of the SKK campus (the farthest my chain extends) and realized it’s the latest I’ve been out since arriving here. The place was hopping. Cyclists, several basketball games, lovers strolling, grannies power walking, a young girl & dad playing badminton in the street. Koreans are night owls. Or maybe they just don’t sleep at all. I’ve been warned by pretty much everyone that kids sleeping in class is a common problem. They go from school to extra classes, from there to the library, and routinely get home in the wee hours only to get up at dawn and start again. I don’t know how they manage.
I hope I can manage to get & keep all my ducks in a row for the next week or two. Everything hinges on something else, and everything costs money. (They told us today that the cost of our medical exams, plus a 500-won housing deposit, was going to come out of our first month’s paycheck. Fab. I was wondering how I was going to make it work with the whole thing) I can’t get internet in my apartment until I get an Alien Registration Card, and I can’t get an ARC until I get my medical clearance in the mail. I can’t buy anything until I get my settlement allowance, and I need a bank account to make that happen. (fortunately, I did sign up for one, although I have no idea what the terms are…they provided reps from Hana Bank for us, then in the Q&A today, said that Korean Exchange Bank has better rates on international transfers) I need money to get a phone, too, and possibly the ARC…I lose track. I need a checklist for everything I’ve got to attend to. I have to get my visa changed to multiple-entry if I want to go to Japan or China at all—I figured I’d do that when I actually wanted to go, since they’re not at all cheap, but it sounds like it has to be done when getting the ARC. Somewhere in all that, I’d like to eat and buy stamps, too.
Tomorrow, we’re doing teaching practice all day. Each of us, in groups of 3, has to do a mini-lesson, with the rest of the group as students. I wish I could post pictures—my group made nifty devil and angel crowns to go with our activity on vocabulary for making an argument. Today was a bit of a waste, as they had to come up with some way to fill the hours of time left by the absence of the Seoul tour. A couple groups actually have “Reflection Hours”. Tell me that’s not desperation BS. Virtually all our sessions turn into Q&As. If the speaker opens himself up to it, we never stop asking. I guess everyone’s a little insecure; we are pretty underinformed too.
I should probably be collecting email addresses. Unfortunately, it’s the old thing where I don’t know people well enough to ask for contact info, but I would know them well enough eventually if I had a way to contact them. We’re supposed to find out tomorrow which district we’ll be in…slowly, we stalk useful information. I did learn something rather useful today, and totally unexpected. Every speaker has us doing ask-your-neighbor activities, and everyone I sit near is very aware that I have cats and love Newfoundland. Today, one instructor gave us time to go farther afield, and I actually found someone else who’s cat mad, and who isn’t new to Korea. She told me about cat cafes, like coffee shops with cats hanging about that will sit on your lap and you can play with and feed. I was a bit apprehensive; I asked her if it would depress me and she said no, her own cats in Busan are at one while she’s here—you can pay the place to keep them for you and it’s cheaper than boarding. I need to locate these in Seoul. If I ever get there.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
First Impressions, Part I
**In the absence of internet on my personal computer, I composed a blog entry in Word to cut and paste. It ended up being 2 pages long, so I'm splitting it into 2 entries for easier reading. Since the most recent will show up on top, I'm manipulating things a bit and posting part 2 first. So here's the beginning: **
Two days in country, and I have a mission. Lots of missions, actually—becoming literate, finding a burrito, creating a balanced life, and so on—but this one involves a man. A man who looks a bit like Murray Foster, has traveled to Poland and Namibia, and is from Newfoundland (oh, the accent!!). It’s been a long time since I had a mission of this sort, and it’s never been my specialty, but I’ve learned a lot in the last few years, and one thing is that if you’re waiting for the right person to knock on your door, you’d better allot a lot of time. Another thing is that if you overplay your hand, you’ve shot yourself in the foot. Somewhere between those is the sweet spot, which is located in a café (or Mexican restaurant) with this man. Weak knees, racing pulse, and mania should be the harbinger of something, should it not? How I will bring this about is a subject for my early morning musings, when I should be sleeping but my body isn’t sure why.
There’s so much to comment on, I’m not sure where to begin. Things are good so far. I’m really pleased I’m working for SMOE, and so thankful for this orientation—not only is it full of excellent information, it’s a nice, gentle crescendo into the country. It’s indispensable to have people I can talk to, help coming at me from all directions, and meals provided (even if they’re not that appetizing) while I find my feet. These folks know what they’re doing.
We’re housed in a university in Suwon, south of Seoul. The view from my window looks like a third-world stereotype (though I don’t want to give the impression it’s a shantytown, because it certainly isn’t), but it’s a fascinating look into Korean life. I see people’s gardens, people’s laundry, lots of chili peppers being dried on mats, lots of kimchi pots, garbage collectors, businesses with the ubiquitous neon, high rise apartments, and even a cat. The aesthetics and the density (and the fact that folks hang their laundry) are the main things that differentiate it from an American urban view…otherwise, there are bicycles, potted plants, satellite dishes, chaise longues, highways, and just generally the accoutrements of everyday life. Korean architecture is extremely functional, and not very historic, but the insides are quite spiffy.
I find my dorm room very agreeable, and am hoping my apartment will be similarly so. There is a large cupboard for my clothes (which I am extremely loathe to unpack, but can’t really avoid), and a desk with numerous cubbies and drawers—things I’m a complete sucker for. There are drawers under the bed, too (how I long to unpack here!), and the traditional quilt instead of sheets on top. I’d been warned about Korean pillows—it’s high and firm—but I prefer it to any I’ve owned in the last 10 years. We have our own bathroom right in the room, separated British style into a toilet room and literal bath room. There’s a step down into the little entryway, linoleum tiled so we can take off our shoes and squeeze them into the cupboard that’s there for that purpose, only just accommodating American size 9 monstrosities. The light in the “hallway” has a motion sensor and comes on whenever we’re in the vicinity, so if one of us visits the loo in the night, we’re both awake. My roommate is from Pennsylvania and has been a great companion, and very generous, including letting me use her computer, which, presumably not having had its OS installed by a moron, can get internet through a cord.
My grandma would love this building—it’s brand new and painted in assertive yellow, green, and orange. The whole campus seems brand new, which I haven’t figured out…is this a newly-established university, a new location, a rebuild…no idea. The campus is quite pleasant (good thing, ‘cause we’re not allowed to leave it), with trees, squirrels, magpies, lots of humming cicadas, and a large garden area with ponds, art objects, and caged birds. And fighter jets roaring over every hour or so. The smog here is considerable, and there’s no daylight savings time (we’re 13 hours apart, my East Coast readers--“I’m in the future,” my roommate told her boyfriend--but it’ll go to 14 in a couple months), so it’s dark by 8 and light by 5.
Two days in country, and I have a mission. Lots of missions, actually—becoming literate, finding a burrito, creating a balanced life, and so on—but this one involves a man. A man who looks a bit like Murray Foster, has traveled to Poland and Namibia, and is from Newfoundland (oh, the accent!!). It’s been a long time since I had a mission of this sort, and it’s never been my specialty, but I’ve learned a lot in the last few years, and one thing is that if you’re waiting for the right person to knock on your door, you’d better allot a lot of time. Another thing is that if you overplay your hand, you’ve shot yourself in the foot. Somewhere between those is the sweet spot, which is located in a café (or Mexican restaurant) with this man. Weak knees, racing pulse, and mania should be the harbinger of something, should it not? How I will bring this about is a subject for my early morning musings, when I should be sleeping but my body isn’t sure why.
There’s so much to comment on, I’m not sure where to begin. Things are good so far. I’m really pleased I’m working for SMOE, and so thankful for this orientation—not only is it full of excellent information, it’s a nice, gentle crescendo into the country. It’s indispensable to have people I can talk to, help coming at me from all directions, and meals provided (even if they’re not that appetizing) while I find my feet. These folks know what they’re doing.
We’re housed in a university in Suwon, south of Seoul. The view from my window looks like a third-world stereotype (though I don’t want to give the impression it’s a shantytown, because it certainly isn’t), but it’s a fascinating look into Korean life. I see people’s gardens, people’s laundry, lots of chili peppers being dried on mats, lots of kimchi pots, garbage collectors, businesses with the ubiquitous neon, high rise apartments, and even a cat. The aesthetics and the density (and the fact that folks hang their laundry) are the main things that differentiate it from an American urban view…otherwise, there are bicycles, potted plants, satellite dishes, chaise longues, highways, and just generally the accoutrements of everyday life. Korean architecture is extremely functional, and not very historic, but the insides are quite spiffy.
I find my dorm room very agreeable, and am hoping my apartment will be similarly so. There is a large cupboard for my clothes (which I am extremely loathe to unpack, but can’t really avoid), and a desk with numerous cubbies and drawers—things I’m a complete sucker for. There are drawers under the bed, too (how I long to unpack here!), and the traditional quilt instead of sheets on top. I’d been warned about Korean pillows—it’s high and firm—but I prefer it to any I’ve owned in the last 10 years. We have our own bathroom right in the room, separated British style into a toilet room and literal bath room. There’s a step down into the little entryway, linoleum tiled so we can take off our shoes and squeeze them into the cupboard that’s there for that purpose, only just accommodating American size 9 monstrosities. The light in the “hallway” has a motion sensor and comes on whenever we’re in the vicinity, so if one of us visits the loo in the night, we’re both awake. My roommate is from Pennsylvania and has been a great companion, and very generous, including letting me use her computer, which, presumably not having had its OS installed by a moron, can get internet through a cord.
My grandma would love this building—it’s brand new and painted in assertive yellow, green, and orange. The whole campus seems brand new, which I haven’t figured out…is this a newly-established university, a new location, a rebuild…no idea. The campus is quite pleasant (good thing, ‘cause we’re not allowed to leave it), with trees, squirrels, magpies, lots of humming cicadas, and a large garden area with ponds, art objects, and caged birds. And fighter jets roaring over every hour or so. The smog here is considerable, and there’s no daylight savings time (we’re 13 hours apart, my East Coast readers--“I’m in the future,” my roommate told her boyfriend--but it’ll go to 14 in a couple months), so it’s dark by 8 and light by 5.
First Impressions, Part II
**In the absence of internet on my personal computer, I composed a blog entry in Word to cut and paste. It ended up being 2 pages long, so I'm splitting it into 2 entries for easier reading. Since the most recent will show up on top, I'm manipulating things a bit and posting part 2 first. So here's the rest: **
We’re in program for 3 hours in the morning and 3 hours in the afternoon, then there’s a 2 hour class at night which is optional, but the topics are essential. The instructors aren’t all yummy, but they’ve so far been very good—knowledgeable and engaging. All the Koreans who have addressed us have been very halting and bashful, which gives me hope for how my delivery style will be received in the classroom. Around 2pm, aka 10pm in my last known time zone, my body’s been going into a major winding down cycle, so our 10:00 curfew has been a total non-issue. Butterflies kept me awake this afternoon; I’m hoping I’ll start to simply adjust soon. Folk wisdom is to allow one day of adjustment per hour difference—that’s over 2 weeks!
They’ve been good about accommodating vegetarians in the cafeteria, too. I wasn’t expecting this, although maybe I shouldn’t get too excited because I’m not really certain I’m not eating fish and chicken stock. While here, and especially this week, I’m adopting a don’t ask, don’t tell policy…not that I could ask or tell anyone anyway. It’s early yet, way too early to make definitive pronouncements, but I’m not sure I’ll be turning into a Korean food fan. I’m usually highly in favor of eating ethnic, but I’m really understanding the allure of home cookin’. Mac & cheese, mashed potatoes, hell, I’d even go for an enchilada and some hummus. We had french fries for lunch today. They only gave me 5, but man, did they taste good! Meals generally consist of rice and kimchi (which looks like flayed skin, another teacher aptly observed), soup (or silky tofu and garnish vegetables floating in water), some vegetables, possibly more cabbage, sometimes pale eggs, and, for my carnivorous colleagues, a salisbury steak patty or the like. A guy from Toronto nailed it: “there’s no flavor, only spice.” It’s not that satisfying and doesn’t taste that good, especially for breakfast. I haven’t seen a piece of fruit since somewhere over Russia.
Tomorrow, I’m not allowed to eat breakfast at all, since I have my medical exam (involving 3 vials of blood, according to the group who had it today). Breakfast is the only time they put out any western food, with a cereal station that’s been my saving grace! While people are getting x-rayed and grilled about H1N1 exposure (this is in addition to signing in each day with our temperature, taken with provided thermometers), the rest of the group is making Korean fans. The ones I’ve seen are really really beautiful. I wonder how coordinated I’ll be after having no breakfast.
I’ve been thinking a lot of the countless hours I’ve spent grilling kindergarteners on letters and sounds. Watching kids scrunch up their face or chew on a finger while they struggle to identify these symbols that are so obvious to me. Now that’s me. The “ah” and “aw” sounds in Hangeul (the Korean alphabet) are like b and d in that they’re mirror images of one another, and I’m having a dreadful time remembering which is which. I know most of the consonants, but not the “double” letters, and I’m still struggling with vowels. So I’m back to sounding things out for the first time in 30 years. For that matter, I don’t know how much sounding out I did when I was learning to read English—I’m kinda thinking I was more of a whole word learner. At any rate, once I’ve figured out what a Korean word says, I still have no idea what it means.
We’re in program for 3 hours in the morning and 3 hours in the afternoon, then there’s a 2 hour class at night which is optional, but the topics are essential. The instructors aren’t all yummy, but they’ve so far been very good—knowledgeable and engaging. All the Koreans who have addressed us have been very halting and bashful, which gives me hope for how my delivery style will be received in the classroom. Around 2pm, aka 10pm in my last known time zone, my body’s been going into a major winding down cycle, so our 10:00 curfew has been a total non-issue. Butterflies kept me awake this afternoon; I’m hoping I’ll start to simply adjust soon. Folk wisdom is to allow one day of adjustment per hour difference—that’s over 2 weeks!
They’ve been good about accommodating vegetarians in the cafeteria, too. I wasn’t expecting this, although maybe I shouldn’t get too excited because I’m not really certain I’m not eating fish and chicken stock. While here, and especially this week, I’m adopting a don’t ask, don’t tell policy…not that I could ask or tell anyone anyway. It’s early yet, way too early to make definitive pronouncements, but I’m not sure I’ll be turning into a Korean food fan. I’m usually highly in favor of eating ethnic, but I’m really understanding the allure of home cookin’. Mac & cheese, mashed potatoes, hell, I’d even go for an enchilada and some hummus. We had french fries for lunch today. They only gave me 5, but man, did they taste good! Meals generally consist of rice and kimchi (which looks like flayed skin, another teacher aptly observed), soup (or silky tofu and garnish vegetables floating in water), some vegetables, possibly more cabbage, sometimes pale eggs, and, for my carnivorous colleagues, a salisbury steak patty or the like. A guy from Toronto nailed it: “there’s no flavor, only spice.” It’s not that satisfying and doesn’t taste that good, especially for breakfast. I haven’t seen a piece of fruit since somewhere over Russia.
Tomorrow, I’m not allowed to eat breakfast at all, since I have my medical exam (involving 3 vials of blood, according to the group who had it today). Breakfast is the only time they put out any western food, with a cereal station that’s been my saving grace! While people are getting x-rayed and grilled about H1N1 exposure (this is in addition to signing in each day with our temperature, taken with provided thermometers), the rest of the group is making Korean fans. The ones I’ve seen are really really beautiful. I wonder how coordinated I’ll be after having no breakfast.
I’ve been thinking a lot of the countless hours I’ve spent grilling kindergarteners on letters and sounds. Watching kids scrunch up their face or chew on a finger while they struggle to identify these symbols that are so obvious to me. Now that’s me. The “ah” and “aw” sounds in Hangeul (the Korean alphabet) are like b and d in that they’re mirror images of one another, and I’m having a dreadful time remembering which is which. I know most of the consonants, but not the “double” letters, and I’m still struggling with vowels. So I’m back to sounding things out for the first time in 30 years. For that matter, I don’t know how much sounding out I did when I was learning to read English—I’m kinda thinking I was more of a whole word learner. At any rate, once I’ve figured out what a Korean word says, I still have no idea what it means.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Hey, those aren't clouds, they're mountain peaks!
I’m composing this post on the plane over Alaska. I’ve wanted to go to Alaska since I was a teenager; this is the closest I’ve ever been. So far, I’m seriously impressed with Korean Air. Check-in was ridiculously easy; boarding was well-run with an effective system of having everyone line up in different lanes, then opening the gates when it’s that line’s turn (so the folks in row 9 who just HAVE to jump up when rows 44 and higher are called have somewhere to go); they actually had a vegetarian meal for me; there’s bottled water waiting for you on your seat when you arrive and free wine with meals; and there seems to be more leg room than I’ve seen in a long time. Taking the last row seems to have been a good idea—I can cram stuff not only under the seat in front, but also behind and in the generous gap between seat and window (also a nice place to stretch my legs in front of me). The plane is made by Boeing…either the Koreans specify more comfort, or I just haven’t been on a plane this new with any American carriers.
I had a nice view of Seattle and Hurricane Ridge on the way out, and have seen a bit of Vancouver Island and southern Alaska, though they are pretty overcast so it’s mostly intermittent peeks.
I’m already getting used to hearing Korean, and am surprised to find that I understand “thank you”. Only about 4,999 words to go, and I’ll have a working vocabulary. The lead-up to this was so many months, with so much beforehand, it didn’t feel like it was actually going to happen. Being on the plane feels almost ho-hum. Every now and then, the thought of an entire year gives me a jolt, but mostly I’m continuing with the “whatever” theme that has characterized my life for the last few months. What’s uncharacteristic (and probably telling about my state of existence lately) is that so far, being cooped up on a plane hasn’t really bothered me. I’ve still got 8 ½ hours to get stir-crazy, but I’ve also got numerous blogs to write, a movie to watch, the complete Mary Tyler Moore Season 1 to throw in the laptop, and 2 Korea guides to read through, not to mention a book of sudokus, a poorly packed backpack that could use some attention, and a hankering for a nap. It’s 8:44 am in Seoul, according to my seat screen. Inconceivable. This will be the farthest from home I’ve ever been. Interesting.
I had a nice view of Seattle and Hurricane Ridge on the way out, and have seen a bit of Vancouver Island and southern Alaska, though they are pretty overcast so it’s mostly intermittent peeks.
I’m already getting used to hearing Korean, and am surprised to find that I understand “thank you”. Only about 4,999 words to go, and I’ll have a working vocabulary. The lead-up to this was so many months, with so much beforehand, it didn’t feel like it was actually going to happen. Being on the plane feels almost ho-hum. Every now and then, the thought of an entire year gives me a jolt, but mostly I’m continuing with the “whatever” theme that has characterized my life for the last few months. What’s uncharacteristic (and probably telling about my state of existence lately) is that so far, being cooped up on a plane hasn’t really bothered me. I’ve still got 8 ½ hours to get stir-crazy, but I’ve also got numerous blogs to write, a movie to watch, the complete Mary Tyler Moore Season 1 to throw in the laptop, and 2 Korea guides to read through, not to mention a book of sudokus, a poorly packed backpack that could use some attention, and a hankering for a nap. It’s 8:44 am in Seoul, according to my seat screen. Inconceivable. This will be the farthest from home I’ve ever been. Interesting.
Oh Fuuuuuuddddggggge
I’ve alluded to the camera disaster in an earlier post, and those of you on Facebook might have seen the oddly-framed shots from my recent National Park spree. Last Wednesday started out like any other day…well, not really—only once before in my life have I awoken in Salt Lake City, and even then not in a hostel-cum-boarding house. But anyway, I did some errands (a useless fuel run to REI, as it turns out—I suspect the Hanukkah miracle was really because they were using a JetBoil), snapped some photos, and headed for Promontory. I took some pictures of the trains, set up a timer shot of me and the Golden Spike monument, and did a panoramic photo of the Great Salt Lake…never knowing it was The Last Time. I paid my dollar for the Big Fill trail guide (this is the latest thing in the National Parks—pony up for hiking information…the wrong person must have gone to Europe) and sat in the parking lot assembling my mini-pack for a short hike…water, Clif Bar, tripod, car key, Lumphy…and put my camera in my lap so it could go in my pocket when I got up. But it made a detour first.
When I was almost ready to go, an old couple of Illinois Republicans pulled in and parked next to me. Seeking to avoid the awkwardness of hiking next to them, I tried to hurry it up. Stood up, forgot the camera was there…boom. It might have been ok if the parking lot weren’t gravel and it didn’t land screen-down on a large jagged edge. I noticed a dent right by the LCD screen. Didn’t think it was that big a deal, but turned on the camera just to make sure. And nothing appeared. Nothing but a small, broken-glass design black spot emanating from the dent.
I was devastated. I felt like a friend I’d just seen had suddenly died. It cast a significant pall on the whole day. No more setting up shots. No more of the neat features I’ve been gaining facility with. No more status reports on batteries or memory cards. I was envisioning my suspension-bridge budget stretching to cover disposable cameras, film developing…another real camera? Glacier National Park on a 10-photo-a-day budget. Trying to sketch what I see. My will to travel was gone.
I went through the stages of grief. How could I have been so careless? Could I just have that one moment back and be a tiny bit more careful? I’m so conscientious about keeping the wrist strap on me at all times…why did I slip up here? Maybe the screen’s just recalibrating and it will come back to life. Maybe someone has a camera they’re not using that I could have. I’ll just start carrying my old film camera again. Why did this have to happen?
I’m happy to say I’ve reached acceptance. A quick check with the laptop reassured me that even though I can’t see them immediately, photos are still being taken. I remember the sequence of buttons for self-timer and flash adjustment, and even made a stab at a panorama of Seattle the other day (it ended up with 2 Space Needles, but the idea was captured). I’ve quickly gotten used to the uncertainty of not knowing how or whether a picture came out (kinda like my entire life up until 2 years ago), and I’ve gotten rather skilled at framing shots blindly. I even figured out how to format a card via the computer! My camera is still a trusty friend who was just crippled, not killed, in a recent accident. Things are going to be ok.
When I was almost ready to go, an old couple of Illinois Republicans pulled in and parked next to me. Seeking to avoid the awkwardness of hiking next to them, I tried to hurry it up. Stood up, forgot the camera was there…boom. It might have been ok if the parking lot weren’t gravel and it didn’t land screen-down on a large jagged edge. I noticed a dent right by the LCD screen. Didn’t think it was that big a deal, but turned on the camera just to make sure. And nothing appeared. Nothing but a small, broken-glass design black spot emanating from the dent.
I was devastated. I felt like a friend I’d just seen had suddenly died. It cast a significant pall on the whole day. No more setting up shots. No more of the neat features I’ve been gaining facility with. No more status reports on batteries or memory cards. I was envisioning my suspension-bridge budget stretching to cover disposable cameras, film developing…another real camera? Glacier National Park on a 10-photo-a-day budget. Trying to sketch what I see. My will to travel was gone.
I went through the stages of grief. How could I have been so careless? Could I just have that one moment back and be a tiny bit more careful? I’m so conscientious about keeping the wrist strap on me at all times…why did I slip up here? Maybe the screen’s just recalibrating and it will come back to life. Maybe someone has a camera they’re not using that I could have. I’ll just start carrying my old film camera again. Why did this have to happen?
I’m happy to say I’ve reached acceptance. A quick check with the laptop reassured me that even though I can’t see them immediately, photos are still being taken. I remember the sequence of buttons for self-timer and flash adjustment, and even made a stab at a panorama of Seattle the other day (it ended up with 2 Space Needles, but the idea was captured). I’ve quickly gotten used to the uncertainty of not knowing how or whether a picture came out (kinda like my entire life up until 2 years ago), and I’ve gotten rather skilled at framing shots blindly. I even figured out how to format a card via the computer! My camera is still a trusty friend who was just crippled, not killed, in a recent accident. Things are going to be ok.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Not Long Now...
The days have been too wall-to-wall for me to post anything this week, but I hope to catch up soon. I've got at least 4 posts waiting to be written, including wildlife, National Parks, and Washington. I'm hoping I'll be able to compose some on the plane (which I'm scheduled to board in 5 hours), then put them up when I arrive in Korea. Once I start orientation, I probably won't be in the head space to be reflecting on my time in Wyoming or Washington. It will seem as far away temporally as it will be physically. I could use about 1 more day to get things in order, but isn't that always the case?
Maybe it hasn't really sunk it yet...actually, I'm sure it hasn't. I slept like a rock last night, and have only the slightest of butterflies now. I should be a wreck if for no other reason than considering everything I need to do before leaving for the airport in 3 hours. I could spend an entire afternoon just returning all the emails I've left languishing. Instead, though, I need to make my final phone calls, go to the grocery store one last time, and try to cram everything into the bulging bags that are making the journey.
Being in Colorado all summer is definitely a plus. I'm past the acute stages of homesickness, so hopefully I won't have that on top of all the other adjustments...I'll be homesick for the US in general and leave it at that (not that I'm not missing you all very much...I'm just used to it). I've just experienced the stages of acclimation, so I'm familiar with the process. And things have been so surreal for so long, I'm far less fazed by it than I might otherwise be. I sleep in new places, fumble my way around, and never know where the next bathroom will be, and that's just the way life is. I've been trying to savor life in these United States, but it's difficult to do before you leave. The things I'll miss haven't even occurred to me.
This past week has been amazingly fast--5 days sounds like a vast span of time into which all sorts of activities can be arranged, but we all know how foolish that line of thinking is. I saw quite a lot--the locks, the view from Smith Tower, Gas Works Park, Alki point, Mt. St. Helens, the Olympic Peninsula--and left plenty for next time. I've been very fortunate this summer to see so many incredible places and sights. Time to say good-bye to my car--one of the most difficult separations--and fly farther than I've ever been before. I very much look forward to seeing you all next year, and, of course, visitors are always welcome!
Maybe it hasn't really sunk it yet...actually, I'm sure it hasn't. I slept like a rock last night, and have only the slightest of butterflies now. I should be a wreck if for no other reason than considering everything I need to do before leaving for the airport in 3 hours. I could spend an entire afternoon just returning all the emails I've left languishing. Instead, though, I need to make my final phone calls, go to the grocery store one last time, and try to cram everything into the bulging bags that are making the journey.
Being in Colorado all summer is definitely a plus. I'm past the acute stages of homesickness, so hopefully I won't have that on top of all the other adjustments...I'll be homesick for the US in general and leave it at that (not that I'm not missing you all very much...I'm just used to it). I've just experienced the stages of acclimation, so I'm familiar with the process. And things have been so surreal for so long, I'm far less fazed by it than I might otherwise be. I sleep in new places, fumble my way around, and never know where the next bathroom will be, and that's just the way life is. I've been trying to savor life in these United States, but it's difficult to do before you leave. The things I'll miss haven't even occurred to me.
This past week has been amazingly fast--5 days sounds like a vast span of time into which all sorts of activities can be arranged, but we all know how foolish that line of thinking is. I saw quite a lot--the locks, the view from Smith Tower, Gas Works Park, Alki point, Mt. St. Helens, the Olympic Peninsula--and left plenty for next time. I've been very fortunate this summer to see so many incredible places and sights. Time to say good-bye to my car--one of the most difficult separations--and fly farther than I've ever been before. I very much look forward to seeing you all next year, and, of course, visitors are always welcome!
Monday, August 17, 2009
I Should've Taken a Picture!
Signs, sights, and surprises of the last week:
--a cow in the health clinic parking lot in Montezuma Creek, UT. Cattle wander around like squirrels. You see cows in the dirt, cows on rock, cows dotting every conceivable and inconceivable landscape. I don't know what they live on.
--a planned forest fire south of Salt Lake City. Signs along the road reassured drivers there was no need to call it in. The smoke made the sunlit valley hazy like a Bierstadt painting and provided some welcome, if eerie, shade for me.
--a replica Delicate Arch at a mini golf place in Provo
--orange flags you can carry while crossing the street in SLC and some spots in Montana. There are little buckets on either side for picking them up & deposit when you make it very safely across.
--some kind of defense facility near Promontory. Signs promised a Rocket Display, but it was in the opposite direction I was going. Wonder what those holes in the hillside are for.
--"Idaho is too great to litter"
--Central Idaho is where God dropped his toys. It's mostly flat and sagey (in color and smell), but mountains are scattered improbably like a young child's train setup. Also strewn about (and sometimes piled into levees) are black lava rocks, so looking across the land creates a craving for mint chip ice cream.
--Idaho National Laboratories owns a vast percentage of this alien land, and mileage signs for Idaho Falls and Pocatello (a captivating, European-looking hillside town) are interspersed with arrows to sets of initials. Tour coaches with "Idaho National Laboratories" emblazoned on the side pass regularly. How'd that be for a business trip?
--Huckleberries are all the rage in the northern US Rockies. I had a huckleberry shake and homemade huckleberry ice cream, but missed out on pie, jam, candy, or any of the other dozens of permutations.
--Electronic sign at entrance to Grand Teton: "Hitting a 2000 lb buffalo will ruin your car. It will ruin your day."
--Jackson, Wyoming, is a precious hole. The Ripley's Believe It or Not hall is architecturally similar to Wall Drug.
--Standing in a cloud of steam is an essential Yellowstone experience. The steam is hot, but quickly cools you as the wind blows. It can be so thick it's all you see.
--the Old Town Cafe in West Yellowstone is a RIP OFF. Many things in that town probably are. The pharmacy in Ennis, MT has a nifty old soda fountain and, while not a bargain, is a much better value.
--Hail that hits like gravel won't necessarily do any damage to a car. Watching storms in the mountains should be on everyone's bucket list.
--Colorado + Illinois = Montana
--two things in Apgar Village in Glacier NP caught my eye: a green and yellow shirt with a John Deere logo, but a closer look revealed that the text was "Glacier National Park" and the leaping animal was a moose; a photo of the turn-of-the-last-century prospectors who first inhabited Apgar--rough and tumble guys with steely eyes, one of whom was holding his cat for the photo
--regular gas goes back to 87 octane in Kalispell
--when driving the Kootenai River Valley, definitely stop for the Falls. I didn't because I'm dumb.
--Bonners Ferry, ID = Little Falls, NY
--the Idaho panhandle must have been the inspiration for their license plate
--Washington is probably pretty cool, but I wouldn't know
--driving drowsy really is like driving drunk
A Day Off
I haven't done this is a LONG time. Woke up at 8 this morning--the older you get, the less relationship there is between the time you go to bed and the time you get up--but I think it was noon before I got dressed. I've been needing that! Cats, internet, a shower...it was a banner morning. After emptying the car (and filling the apartment), we went to the Ballard locks and watched a rising tide lifting all the boats, then spent a leisurely hour rooting for the salmon as they climbed the adjacent ladder. It was warm & sunny, I had someone to talk to, and no worries about what time it was. It was really lovely. And my brother was right...I do like Seattle a lot. Next time I want to spend the summer somewhere, this should be on the list. Now we're just waiting to go pick up my dad at the airport. I'm lovin' it.
My brother's apartment is techno monastery. His roommate is fairly domestic, so the place is clean and has homey touches like an area rug and cats. It doesn't have other things that some consider essential, though, such as dish soap, or, for that matter, dishes. Good thing I've gotten rather accomplished at one-pot, one-dish, nothing-but-boiling-water cooking. And Lemur the cat is at this moment doing dishes for me anyway.
I've got a lot of blogging to catch up on, and a lot of other competition for my time. The last few days have had some captivating moments, some weird and wonderful details, and a bit of intense suckage. As I'm driving, I make notes of things that catch my attention on the back of my gas receipts, so I'll use those, my photos, and my memories to take a stab at some sort of chronicle of my transit-turned-vacation. A tentative table of contents:
Wednesday: the Golden Spike, Craters of the Moon, and camera tragedy
Thursday: the first nuclear power plant, Grand Teton
Friday: Yellowstone, driving through Montana
Saturday: hiking to Grinnell Glacier
Sunday: Going-to-the-Sun Road and driving to Washington
This pirated wifi is ever so helpful!
Still Alive...
Still alive, but barely. It's 3am Mountain time, and I recently arrived at my brother's apartment in Seattle. I've been enjoying our awesome National Park system, where internet doesn't exist (and shouldn't) for the last 5 days. Drove through Glacier this morning, decided to get to Spokane, then thought I'd just keep going. I'm tired. Full details over the course of the next few days. :)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I'm a City Girl!
I'm in Salt Lake City tonight, and my my, does it feel good! I've been lamenting leaving the outdoor life behind, but when I found myself navigating 5 lanes of traffic with Aerosmith coming in clearly on the radio, I almost wept with happiness. I like my time in the woods (or wilderness--out here the terms aren't interchangeable), but I also like coming back to "cement & steel & flashing lights". SLC has its share of rustling trees, too, and my explorations tonight were quite satisfying.
I defied my principles and didn't hike in Capitol Reef today--more on that later--which turned out to be an excellent decision as it gave me time for a city hike--I think I did about 2 1/2 miles from the hostel to Temple Square & the State Capitol and back. Both the hostel itself and the city in general look impossibly seedy at first glance. Passing pawn shops, tattoo parlors, and the baseball stadium on the way in made me wonder what I'd signed up for. But the place is really friendly, the facilities are more than adequate, and I have the women's dorm all to myself tonight. Spike, the neighborhood cat, came to greet me as soon as he heard I was here. So I got settled, picked up a sandwich from a nearby shop (with a Michael Jackson and Obama obsessed 2-year-old running around the place--he told me Michael Jackson has an owie, then did a rendition of Beat It), and hoofed past all the car dealers and check cashers to central downtown. Temple Square is, without question, the main attraction. It was just 9 when I got there, and they were shooing people out of the Tabernacle, but I was able to watch the organist through a window for a bit--it's just the place that's pictured on the cover of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas album, strangely enough! The whole squeaky clean complex, with its flowers and fountains, and turreted meringuey Temple put me powerfully in mind of Disneyland. Even the teenagers by the reflecting pool stopped their horseplay when they saw me fumbling with my little tripod and offered to take a picture for me.
I may go back in the morning, once I figure out whether I can spare the time. I left Lumphy in the car because I wanted to travel light, but a photo of him with the beehive sculptures at the Capitol would be super. I guess I've really missed city life. Despite my long-held ambitions of seeing Glacier, what I really feel like doing is hightailing it to Seattle and veging there for as long as I can. I haven't slept in a real bed since I was at the Osbornes' in June. I hope doing so tonight doesn't ruin me for the week ahead. Pulling into town, I was thinking longingly of Chicago and Springfield, where a long day on the road ends with a warm welcome and familiar comfort.
I've grown tired of saying it, but the landscapes I drove through today were really weird. I tried photographing each one, but I'm not sure I got them all. Spires, canyons, buttes, desert, and every combination thereof, plus a full palette of colors. Throw in a couple of rivers as well. Then, near Hanksville, the buttes started looking like the condenser units on tall buildings. Hanksville itself was surreal, surrounded by these ashen condensers and looking itself like it was built as an Old West movie set. Capitol Reef National Park was quite impressive and scenic, but by the time I got there I had rock ennui. After intensely appreciating rocks for 2 months, and all day to boot, I just didn't have that much excitement left. Especially when it's 95 degrees and I'm in a state where shade is outlawed (Salt Lake City being an exception to this). I took photos, I stopped at pulloffs, I did the scenic drive (at twice the recommended speed), and--this was the cool part, even though it lasted all of 3o seconds--I picked some apples in the historic orchard the Mormons had a century ago. Then I drove 4 hours to SLC without stopping once.
Contributing to the rock ennui was also the fact that I camped in Valley of the Gods last night. I wanted to go there because I was enthralled with the area when I passed by a couple times in June. I'm also a fan of free camping, which can be done on most BLM land. I'm not sure I camped in a totally acceptable spot, but with no threat of rain or cold, I was able to leave the rain fly off the tent, and it sure was nice. I could open the "windows", so I had the Big Dipper perfectly framed in one and the Milky Way in the other. I noticed moonrise through the walls of the tent, it was so bright.
This morning, I made a pig's ear of breakfast. After I'd rigged up the JetBoil, I noticed some mud in the cup, so I turned it upside down. Bad idea. The ground wasn't the only place I spilled precious fuel--when I pressed the ignition button, there was a flash fireball. I brushed the black flecks off my arm and realized that they were my singed arm hairs. Wonder how long it'll take to grow back. The 17-mile Valley of the Gods drive was unfortunately even less enjoyable. When I wasn't fretting over the climbing temperature gauge, I was worrying about how much damage the extreme washboarding of the road was doing. There were some nifty formations, and I knew I was saying goodbye to the Utah I've known, but by the end, I was counting down the miles.
The parks were full of French people today. I wonder if that trend will continue. Golden spike and Craters of the Moon tomorrow, then Tetons and Yellowstone Thursday. Can't complain.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The End.
If all goes well, this will be my last night in Colorado for a good long time. It could possibly also be my last post for a while. With the prevalence of wifi, and library computers in every town, I'll probably be able to post from the road, but I can't count on it--I'm going to some pretty remote areas--and my schedule is awfully tight to boot. I may have to do a lot of back blogging.
I took today off to pack, and a good thing, too, because it pretty much took all day. The bags I'm taking to Korea are all bulging, and there's still a sundry heap of things that need to go in them. I have no idea how I'm going to pull this off, but it's been done before. I've made countless trips through the stupid lawn sprinklers to the car today, and I've got about 4 more to make, maybe more with all the stuff in the tent. I left out an outfit for tomorrow, but I conveniently forgot to leave myself any long pants or a second shirt to sleep in--it's been COLD at night recently. It was 46 when I woke up this morning, and that was well after sunrise.
Now that I've packed everything up, I'm really excited about what's next. Working tomorrow is going to be a horrible letdown. I've been gradually saying goodbye to people--with things quieting down, a lot of folks are taking days off, so it's been a rolling roster of last times. If I hadn't run into Seth in the bakery this morning, he would just have quietly disappeared. Speaking of the bakery, it was fantastic! Better than Jine's. I wish I'd tried it sooner, though I probably saved a lot of money by not doing so. All organic, very veggie-friendly, and creative menu items. Plus, a case of really tempting bars, cookies, and pastries. I succumbed to the lure of a lemon-blueberry bar. I think there were more people in there than there are in all of Mancos. I'm sure if I lived here, I'd be a regular.
Off to stargaze one last time. I'm going to really miss those little guys.
I took today off to pack, and a good thing, too, because it pretty much took all day. The bags I'm taking to Korea are all bulging, and there's still a sundry heap of things that need to go in them. I have no idea how I'm going to pull this off, but it's been done before. I've made countless trips through the stupid lawn sprinklers to the car today, and I've got about 4 more to make, maybe more with all the stuff in the tent. I left out an outfit for tomorrow, but I conveniently forgot to leave myself any long pants or a second shirt to sleep in--it's been COLD at night recently. It was 46 when I woke up this morning, and that was well after sunrise.
Now that I've packed everything up, I'm really excited about what's next. Working tomorrow is going to be a horrible letdown. I've been gradually saying goodbye to people--with things quieting down, a lot of folks are taking days off, so it's been a rolling roster of last times. If I hadn't run into Seth in the bakery this morning, he would just have quietly disappeared. Speaking of the bakery, it was fantastic! Better than Jine's. I wish I'd tried it sooner, though I probably saved a lot of money by not doing so. All organic, very veggie-friendly, and creative menu items. Plus, a case of really tempting bars, cookies, and pastries. I succumbed to the lure of a lemon-blueberry bar. I think there were more people in there than there are in all of Mancos. I'm sure if I lived here, I'd be a regular.
Off to stargaze one last time. I'm going to really miss those little guys.
Preparation for Seoul
My first thought upon crawling out of my tent this morning was, "Who's smoking a cigar?" In the city, it could be any one of the neighbors, but out here, it would have had to have drifted quite a long way. Then I stood up and, as I will no longer be able to do, looked across to Mesa Verde. It was bisected horizontally by a brown cloud which stretched across the Mancos Valley. Smog. The way you see it in anti-pollution commercials. I've seen it hang over Boulder countless times; smelled it and felt it burning my throat in downtown Denver; but having it out here is a new one. The cigar smell pervades Deer Hill today. I guess I'd better get used to it.
Today, I am preparing for Seoul in more concrete ways as well. I have the day off to pack. I was debating whether I was going to bother taking a day off; now I'm wondering how I'm going to get it all done in just one day. I should have thought earlier of my horrible last day in Rochester, and how I don't have Mark here to keep me going this time. At least everything that needs to be packed is condensed into one small space, simplifying things. So am: pack for the road trip like that's all I'm doing, then go into Mancos and finally visit the bakery and take pictures around town. Pm: laundry, pack everything else, and innumerable little tasks. Tomorrow: bring down the tent and everything in it. The next 2 days are going to be nuts! And it won't stop there!
Today, I am preparing for Seoul in more concrete ways as well. I have the day off to pack. I was debating whether I was going to bother taking a day off; now I'm wondering how I'm going to get it all done in just one day. I should have thought earlier of my horrible last day in Rochester, and how I don't have Mark here to keep me going this time. At least everything that needs to be packed is condensed into one small space, simplifying things. So am: pack for the road trip like that's all I'm doing, then go into Mancos and finally visit the bakery and take pictures around town. Pm: laundry, pack everything else, and innumerable little tasks. Tomorrow: bring down the tent and everything in it. The next 2 days are going to be nuts! And it won't stop there!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Addenda
A couple things I forgot to include in the last posts:
I went to St. Rita's in Mancos on Sunday. A cute little adobe church with wood paneling on the inside. There were only 8 rows of pews, but it was standing room only. Very friendly. Their only stained glass is a picture of mountains.
Some signs I saw in New Mexico:
Billboard with Evolution crossed out
Pray to End Abortion
Get US out of UN
Sarah Palin in 2012 for a socialist FREE America
Also seen in New Mexico: 2 coyotes and a jackrabbit. None paused long enough for me to get a good look, but man, jackrabbits are HUGE! I understand how the whole jackalope myth sprang up.
I went to St. Rita's in Mancos on Sunday. A cute little adobe church with wood paneling on the inside. There were only 8 rows of pews, but it was standing room only. Very friendly. Their only stained glass is a picture of mountains.
Some signs I saw in New Mexico:
Billboard with Evolution crossed out
Pray to End Abortion
Get US out of UN
Sarah Palin in 2012 for a socialist FREE America
Also seen in New Mexico: 2 coyotes and a jackrabbit. None paused long enough for me to get a good look, but man, jackrabbits are HUGE! I understand how the whole jackalope myth sprang up.
The Last...
Things are really winding down here. Four days left, and I can't wait. I'm completely exhausted, and I'm done with the crap here. We have a bunch of evaluations to do, and I gave them an earful. Carefully thought out, of course, but stuff that needs to be said. I'm listening to my roommates complain in the next room, and for once I agree with everything they're saying. We're all pretty done with the place.
Yesterday I did my last breakfast. My last deissue. My last store hit. And my last shuttle. The shuttle was amazing, up one of the hundreds of dirt roads that sit unobtrusively all over the state. There's some good stuff up those roads, but most people (myself included) never think to look. I'm glad I did. I passed the settlement of Dunton, like a ghost town except it's inhabited. It's 22 miles (half of it dirt) from the main road. The way people in Wyoming County go to Rochester to get stuff done, these people have a similar trip to Dolores. Except that the people in Dolores go to Cortez or Farmington. It's hard to imagine being that isolated. You get some wicked scenery, though.
Tomorrow is debrief day. We're going to spend the whole day Talking. Then have a big party. I hope we're all still speaking to each other.
Yesterday I did my last breakfast. My last deissue. My last store hit. And my last shuttle. The shuttle was amazing, up one of the hundreds of dirt roads that sit unobtrusively all over the state. There's some good stuff up those roads, but most people (myself included) never think to look. I'm glad I did. I passed the settlement of Dunton, like a ghost town except it's inhabited. It's 22 miles (half of it dirt) from the main road. The way people in Wyoming County go to Rochester to get stuff done, these people have a similar trip to Dolores. Except that the people in Dolores go to Cortez or Farmington. It's hard to imagine being that isolated. You get some wicked scenery, though.
Tomorrow is debrief day. We're going to spend the whole day Talking. Then have a big party. I hope we're all still speaking to each other.
The Landscape Changed as if by Decree
The title of this post is a line from a Bill Bryson book, and it's amazing how often it applies. I went to New Mexico on Sunday. It first struck me that it isn't Colorado any more when I was driving along the highway to Aztec through parched and scrubby land, but the mountains near Durango were just on the horizon. Aztec & Durango are maybe 40 miles apart, but they might as well be opposite ends of the country. Initially, I wasn't too impressed with Aztec and its mobile home-inspired architecture, but after visiting the stellar ruins and driving down adobe-ful Main Street, I could concede that it might be acceptable to live there.
Aztec Ruins National Monument has nothing to do with Aztecs, but the misconception of a century ago has never been officially corrected. For a place that accepts my Park Pass, it's improbably tiny, but provides the best bang for your buck of any of the Ancestral Puebloan sites. The building is massive, and you're actually allowed inside in spots, to stand in the room where they found dozens of bodies, and to appreciate the original roof and 800-year old willow door. It's also interesting to note the clues of the stones--where they've been re-mortared, where a door used to be, where certain features don't match the typical style. The Great Kiva is also huge (they think it was a central one, like a cathedral as opposed to a church) and it's been rebuilt, so you can go inside and see what it would have been like to be in there with the Puebloans. There was a really old Parks volunteer in there answering questions, and he was impressively knowledgeable. The one thing he didn't know was why the people ultimately left (nobody has come up with a conclusive explanation for this). There was a guy from Illinois who really wanted to know, and asked the question several times, evidently hoping the answer would change. Did it have anything to do with the Longbodies the Parks guy had mentioned? (The following day, I heard a voice across the canyon at Hovenweep talking about supernovae. I looked across and there was a familiar figure saying, "and then there's the Longbodies...")
A flock of Canada geese flew over while I was walking around there. Talk about juxtaposition! Such a familiar noise...but there? There also were a lot of sirens, and copious black smoke over yonder. I forgot to go check it out, though.
The other thing I learned at Aztec was that the Chaco Canyon campground is closed. Interesting. Twice (at least) this summer, I have had plans to go to New Mexico, and twice I have changed my mind at the very last minute. The original itinerary was to bypass Aztec entirely and spend the night at Chaco, which is at the end of a very long dirt road. I'm very grateful to whatever subliminal message kept me from driving many miles & hours only to find that what I wanted to do wasn't available. And I loved Aztec & Bisti anyway.
Before Bisti, though, was Farmington. Definitely bigger than Cortez, and maybe even bigger than Durango. There was a mall. When I asked our marketing guy, Richard, what there was to do in Farmington, he said it's a good place to shop. Where I'm from, that means it's full of boutiques and fudge shops and art galleries. Here in Nowhere, that means it has a Sears and a JC Penney and is a good place to procure socks & underwear. Farmington is also full of interesting junkyards, some of which are actually car dealers. I guess it's officially the Southwest--the preponderance of impossibly old vehicles is rather delightful. Farmington's other arresting detail is that it's sandwiched between two mesas. Look north or south down any street and you see a typical assortment of houses, traffic lights, shops, etc, and a rock wall at the end.
Leaving Farmington entails a swift, steep, climb, after which you arrive in a landscape that's even more featureless than Illinois. Illinois has a farm or two, and occasional rivers marked by a strip of lush vegetation. New Mexico has scrub and electric wires. After 30 miles of this, you crest a ridge and are suddenly in badlands. The Bisti Wilderness is one of the USA's great wacky places. It's got black lava mounds. It's got odd green hilly things. It's got red & white rock spires. It's got dust. Petrified wood chips. And it's got a really astounding array of little rock sculptures littered all over the floor. It's like walking into a Dali painting.
And walk it I did. Lonely Planet said the best formations are 2 miles east of the parking lot. They put it that way because there's no trail. When a woman who arrived just after I did started questioning my lack of map or GPS, I started questioning it too. Is wandering into the desert alone really the smartest thing to do? Even though it's flat as can be, I took the one of my hiking poles with a compass in it and checked it frequently. I followed the fence for some distance, then when it veered off in the wrong direction, I walked the rest of the way in a wash. It wound this way and that, but at least I'd be able to trace it back. Finally I got to some pretty cool stuff, at a distance that was believable at 2 miles. I turned and looked west. I could still see the rocks I parked next to. I was emboldened to wander a bit, and was rewarded for my efforts. It was Lilliputian Utah. At one point, I surprised a very tiny rabbit. I don't know if it was a baby, or whether that's the growth limit for that limited assortment of vegetation. I have no idea where it gets its water. There were some places where I walked on cracked, rock-hard sand; in some places, the surface was ashy; and then there were spots where it looked as though pebbles and wood chips were laying about, but if you tried to pick one up, you'd find it stuck fast in the dirt, like the quarters you see in road tar. It's one of the most unusual places I've ever been.
Next time, I'd like to hike farther and camp in the middle of it, but I was set for car camping, so I found a quiet spot (not difficult--this place is spectacularly untrafficked) and set up the tent. It was nearly sunset, and the almost total absence of bugs made it pleasant to sit in the dust and skywatch. Mountains were visible in the far distance, and so was rain--I had been expecting to get doused for hours at this point, and was realizing it wasn't going to happen. Out here, I've always lived next to the mountains, where the rain always falls. Get far enough out, though, and you have the privilege of just watching it. One of the rangers at Mesa Verde said it's a treat to see rain in the desert, and he's right, especially if it's not hitting you. I later realized I'd set up the tent under power lines (of all things, way out there), which thrummed and twanged all night, but I didnt' get electrocuted, so all's well that ends well.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Ever Heard of Hovenweep?
I’m writing this in the parking lot of Mesa Verde’s amphitheatre. I have 3 hours to kill before tonight’s program starts. Sitting in the car (sideways, so my back dries), sucking on a freeze pop, Ozzy on the radio—life is good. Especially considering that I was originally supposed to be working today. Bought this day off with the early airport run on Saturday. It’s been in the mid- to upper 90s today, with no shade to speak of. Up on MV, though, it’s 84 and breezy. I’m about to break out my picnic, such as it is. I always feel real when I’m in City Market, but sometimes I wish there was a Wegmans available. Had sort of vague plans for dinner tonight, but have been hungry all day and want to really eat. I haven’t looked at the food in the cooler since last night, but as of then, it could only be called a cooler out of deference to tradition—the air inside was as warm as anywhere else. So I have a little bit of leftover salad, but not sure if it’s edible. Thought I might get a slice or two of pizza, or some other quickie item, but alas, I’ve been conditioned to think that Wegmans represents reality. What I did dredge up at City Market was almost-out-of-date cottage cheese on sale for $1.19, raspberries on sale for 97 cents, and, after some problem solving, freeze pops on sale for $2.50/bag (as opposed to the popsicles I was originally dreaming of, I can let these thaw in the car, then just refreeze them when I get “home”). If I’m still hungry, I can cook up the dried soup.
Today’s main attraction was
The Square Tower Group requires a 2-mile walk to see. The brochure I had talked of an 8-mile trail that links Square & Holly groups, and that’s what I had intended to do, but the 8 miles was in addition to the 2 to check out the squares, and the ranger said I wouldn’t be any more enlightened by seeing both, so since it was hot and I was (as ever) tired and hungry, I opted for just the Square Group. I saw pictures of the other stuff, and I think the ranger was right. There’s a definite point of diminishing returns. Hence my super-early arrival at MV.
Today’s other diversions have included a pass-through of Shiprock, on the Navajo rez. The town is as bleak as other reservation towns I’ve been through, with an apparent passion for chain link offsetting the disdain of vegetation. The fast food restaurants are glitzier than Kayenta’s, though. I tried to visit the eponymous rock, but highway 491 is as close as you get, and they’ve thoughtfully strung power lines in front of the highway pulloff, so I didn’t even get a clean photo. You can just about see it from Cortez, anyway—it’s big! It’s a sacred site for the Navajos; I guess they don’t want a bunch of crowds defiling it.
Driving up 491, I saw the big rock thing (volcanic plug, maybe?) that so impressed me when I did my first shuttle to Ute headquarters at the beginning of June. It’s still pretty cool, but not especially distinctive. The urge to photograph it has passed. So I wonder again if I have rock ennui. Not entirely. Back for more next week.
Realized in the demo post, I forgot to mention the Mennonite woman I saw there. Demos have the best people watching anywhere!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Bang! Or, rather, bink!
At demolition derbies when I was a kid, cars used to smash into each other. It was fun. I wish I could see one like it.
I went to the Montezuma County Fair tonight, hoping that the Western cowboy spirit would mean a more spirited demo. Instead, it made the beater ballet in Hemlock look like American Gladiator. 4 heats took 3 hours, and I've seen more vicious hits--many of them, in fact--on the bumper cars at Seabreeze. The average Manhattan taxi has more body damage than these cars did when they drove away. It was like watching a game of tag where everyone's it and everyone's playing defense. The first 3 heats were over when the clock said they were, instead of when only one car was moving. A bumper was lost, a couple of tires, one car would erupt like Old Faithful every few minutes, but it was highly anticlimactic.
It looked promising at the beginning. Despite the small size ("We've got 15 cars this year!" the announcer exclaimed in an impressed tone, "That's five times the smashing we had last year!"), all the entries were '70s or early '80s American sedans. One was a former police car, with the insignia still on the doors. There was a station wagon. A '76 Chrysler Cordoba and a similar vintage Mark IV that both got knocked out more or less immediately.
But we had to wait for the long line to get in before we could start, then we had to have a Prettiest Car contest that nobody in the audience was very into. I suppose if you're used to running an entire derby with 3 cars, you're pretty skilled at throwing in stalling strategies. Finally they ran the first heat. It was rather dusty. So the irrigation truck came out and sprayed the dirt before the second heat. Unfortunately, he overdid it, so for the remaining heats, nobody could get any traction even when they did have all their tires. The highest drama was during introductions, when the cars would zoom in and skid uncontrollably sideways in the muck as they lined up by the other entrants.
The setup was also not as good as at Hemlock. The arena was about half again as big, giving the cars more room to zoom around like the Ice Capades. The boundaries were marked off with tractor tires rather than cement walls, so nobody could get pinned. And there was no crazy driver award, which eliminated the usual one person per heat who's actually trying to cause collisions.
Then before the final heat, they had an auction. People bid on the car they thought would win, and all the money went into a pot to be split between the bidder on the winning car and the Fair committee. This was interminable--a whole auction routine for each of the 9 entries. I thought about leaving. I got up at 4 this morning, and the crowd and tedium was wearing on me.
The final heat redeemed things somewhat. There was a fire. The former police car drove around with its back end smashed flat (it ultimately took second). There were a couple of hits with wind-up. And it went on until only one car was running (which took a very long time). It made me feel like the evening wasn't wasted, but it was also a bit like smelling baking brownies and not being allowed to eat any. They don't even use a forklift for cleanup.
I'm glad I went though. I got my fix, such as it was. I had a local experience. I did a bit of people-watching.
Sign of the times:
little boy: "Dad, what time is it?"
girl (in the clenched-teeth, exasperated older sister tone): "He doesn't KNOW. He didn't bring his PHONE."
Gotta love little boys:
The 2 boys next to me are horseplaying. Suddenly they're giggling uncontrollably.
Older brother (about 8) (who'd sold a goat at the Fair) in the next row turns around. "What's so funny? Did you guys lick each other?"
One more color in my Summer in Mancos tapestry.
I went to the Montezuma County Fair tonight, hoping that the Western cowboy spirit would mean a more spirited demo. Instead, it made the beater ballet in Hemlock look like American Gladiator. 4 heats took 3 hours, and I've seen more vicious hits--many of them, in fact--on the bumper cars at Seabreeze. The average Manhattan taxi has more body damage than these cars did when they drove away. It was like watching a game of tag where everyone's it and everyone's playing defense. The first 3 heats were over when the clock said they were, instead of when only one car was moving. A bumper was lost, a couple of tires, one car would erupt like Old Faithful every few minutes, but it was highly anticlimactic.
It looked promising at the beginning. Despite the small size ("We've got 15 cars this year!" the announcer exclaimed in an impressed tone, "That's five times the smashing we had last year!"), all the entries were '70s or early '80s American sedans. One was a former police car, with the insignia still on the doors. There was a station wagon. A '76 Chrysler Cordoba and a similar vintage Mark IV that both got knocked out more or less immediately.
But we had to wait for the long line to get in before we could start, then we had to have a Prettiest Car contest that nobody in the audience was very into. I suppose if you're used to running an entire derby with 3 cars, you're pretty skilled at throwing in stalling strategies. Finally they ran the first heat. It was rather dusty. So the irrigation truck came out and sprayed the dirt before the second heat. Unfortunately, he overdid it, so for the remaining heats, nobody could get any traction even when they did have all their tires. The highest drama was during introductions, when the cars would zoom in and skid uncontrollably sideways in the muck as they lined up by the other entrants.
The setup was also not as good as at Hemlock. The arena was about half again as big, giving the cars more room to zoom around like the Ice Capades. The boundaries were marked off with tractor tires rather than cement walls, so nobody could get pinned. And there was no crazy driver award, which eliminated the usual one person per heat who's actually trying to cause collisions.
Then before the final heat, they had an auction. People bid on the car they thought would win, and all the money went into a pot to be split between the bidder on the winning car and the Fair committee. This was interminable--a whole auction routine for each of the 9 entries. I thought about leaving. I got up at 4 this morning, and the crowd and tedium was wearing on me.
The final heat redeemed things somewhat. There was a fire. The former police car drove around with its back end smashed flat (it ultimately took second). There were a couple of hits with wind-up. And it went on until only one car was running (which took a very long time). It made me feel like the evening wasn't wasted, but it was also a bit like smelling baking brownies and not being allowed to eat any. They don't even use a forklift for cleanup.
I'm glad I went though. I got my fix, such as it was. I had a local experience. I did a bit of people-watching.
Sign of the times:
little boy: "Dad, what time is it?"
girl (in the clenched-teeth, exasperated older sister tone): "He doesn't KNOW. He didn't bring his PHONE."
Gotta love little boys:
The 2 boys next to me are horseplaying. Suddenly they're giggling uncontrollably.
Older brother (about 8) (who'd sold a goat at the Fair) in the next row turns around. "What's so funny? Did you guys lick each other?"
One more color in my Summer in Mancos tapestry.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
