Figs!

I found a large sized bag of organic figs at Costco and couldn't help but get them. I can just eat them, one after another. However, they are also fun to add to all kinds of things. So far I've just used them as a topping on pizza and in crapes.

Caramelized Onion, Fig and Goat Cheese Pizza: For the dough, I used the recipe from Fine Cooking. I let it rise over night in the refrigerator. I used all kinds of toppings, but I did enjoy the fig, caramelized onion and goat cheese pizza I made. I gained my inspiration from this fig and goat cheese pizza recipe. However, I made some changes. I used most of a sweet white onion, and cooked it down with olive oil and salt until caramelized. Then I added the soaked and cut figs and some thyme leaves to the pan and cooked a little longer. Once the figs have absorbed some of the oil and flavor, I set the mixture aside and readied the dough. I spread the onions and figs over  the pizza dough and then sprinkled goat cheese over the top. I cooked the pie for 10-15 minutes at 425 degrees, depending on the size. When the crust is cooked, it's ready!

Fig Crapes with honey and goat cheese: I followed this basic crape recipe. I was pleased with the result. I have not made crapes in a long time, and though I do not have a special pan to make the flat pancakes, they still were good. I made them smaller at first (not the size of the whole pan), but as a went, I was able to spread the batter out enough to fill the whole frying pan. They did not stick very much (I oiled the pan between each crape). To add the filling, I flipped the crape once, the placed crumbled goat cheese on half of the crape. I then placed the dried figs (smashed flat and cut in half or quarters). When the second side of the crape is nearly finished, I drizzled honey over the cheese and figs and folded the crape in half. You could cut it up or just eat it right away (which is what I did).

If I find any other uses for the figs, I will post them here.

Catching up to do

I've been reluctant to close some of my browser windows because I have yet to save the great recipes trapped on their glowing pages. So many people are posting recipes, and I have been inspired by many to try something new. Pretty much anything you ever want to make can be found online.

I wanted to share some of these. In the future maybe I will add my own photos or experiences, but today I will just post the links.

Soy Milk: Recently I decided to try making homemade soy milk. The process takes a long time, and I am still getting used to the flavor, but my boyfriend uses it in smoothies daily and has not complained! I make it almost every week now. I do not have a machine, so found these two sites helpful:
VeganYumYum : http://veganyumyum.com/2008/05/homemade-organic-soymilk/ and
Soya : http://www.soya.be/how-to-make-soy-milk.php

Butternut squash gnocchi: I have been wanting to make gnocchi for a long time and had seen a recipe on PBS that used arborio rice instead of potatoes, however, I really liked this version with squash instead. I used melted rosemary butter and cheese as a topping.

Brussels Spout Potato Casserole: I had some old brussels sprouts and white and purple potatoes. Instead of bacon I used salami. At the end I sprinkled some asiago cheese and baked it for 5 more minutes until melted. I of course also added 3-4 cloves of garlic.

Basic Pizza Dough: I was satisfied with this dough. I think I will keep looking for other recipes, but I can't complain! The key is kneading it a lot the first time so it is very elastic. I made 3 different pizza types.
1. salami, tomato paste and garlic sauce, caramelized onion, mozzarella cheese and artichoke hearts
2. thinly sliced sweet potatoes, roasted garlic, rosemary butter, feta cheese, parmesan cheese, artichoke hearts and caramelized onions
3. thinly sliced beats, olive oil, feta cheese and artichoke hearts.

In the Kitchen

My good friend Nikki recently suggested I start posting again. This time I will probably mostly focus on the products of my kitchen, and less on the products of my wandering mind. It's been a while since I've written anything. It is too much to stop and really think very deeply. I know it would help me sort through the mush that my brain must resemble, but these days I spend much of my time in the kitchen. Here I cook food into mush (or into something delicious) and I can easily document my experiments with the ingredients.

I will start with my muffin recipe. Though I admit, these muffins are different every time I make them, there is a basic formula I follow. I will share that formula and maybe some of the alternatives I have found to be so delightful.

Dry Ingredients:
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup okara (I roasted and ground mine into a flour)
1/2 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup oats
1/3 cup ground flax meal
1/3 cup garbanzo flour
1/3 cup corn meal
1 Tbs baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground ginger

Wet Ingredients:
1/8 cup coconut oil, melted
3/8 cup canola oil
1/3 cup sugar (mix of coconut palm and brown sugar)
1/8 cup flax seed cooked with 3/8 cup water (replacement for 2 eggs)
1 grated apple
2-3 lbs previously roasted butternut squash (2 cups or so)
1/4 cup agave nectar
1/4 cup soy milk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract



Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix dry ingredients in medium sized bowl. In larger bowl, mix oil and sugar.  Next add squash and mash it together, adding grated apple on top. Add cooked flax seed and water mixture (the consistency of the flax seed should be similar to a raw egg). Finally, add agave, soy milk and vanilla. Stir until blended. Pour in dry ingredients and mix until combined. If the mixture seems too dry, add more soy milk.


I use one muffin tin and one cookie sheet to bake. Oil muffin tin/cookie sheets and distribute dough evenly. I was able to make 16 larger muffins and 16 smaller "cookie muffins."

Bake until knife comes out clean, between 15 and 25 minutes.

I have tried many variations on this recipe. In the summer I use zucchini or summer squash. A carrot/apple mixture is nice as well. Canned pumpkin (I just use one whole can) and other winter squash are delicious too. You can add nuts, dried fruit, various other spices (cardamom is good) and try using other flours as well.

Here's the basic, simpler recipe that I based mine off of:

Dry:
3 cups flour
1 T backing powder
1 t baking soda
1 t cinnamon
1 t salt
1/4 t ground nutmeg

Wet:
1/2 cup canola oil
1/3-2/3 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups grated carrots (firmly packed)
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup sour cream or yogurt
1 t vanilla extract

Use same procedure as above recipe.

Farm Girl Returns

I don't know much about the future...none of us do. But I am fairly certain of one thing: I will be growing my own food. 


Whether it's for recreation, my livelihood or pure survival, being self-sufficient is an aspiration I'm coming to take very seriously. The building hype surrounding locally grown, sustainable agriculture, urban gardening, free-range pasture-finished, make your own yogurt/cheese/vinegar/alcohol (etc)...makes it hip to think about raising chickens in your background and generally just making conscious choices about where food comes from. For me, this return to the earth and an understanding of our connection to what's on my dinner plate goes a bit further back. It's in my blood. The ironic thing is we all come from farming lineages; hunter-gather lines. It's not far enough back to have been bred out of us, though it feels that way. The egg of knowledge is slipping toward the edge, but it hasn't yet shattered. 


Reading Tuesday's FOODday in the Oregonian compelled me to reflect a little on why I would choose farming as a profession (if I should be so lucky) or more simply, how I can make the most of the bits of earth I can till and what I can do to shrink my own "ecological footprint." "Nurturing the next crop of farmers" by Leslie Cole follows a couple approaching retirement who built up their 17 acre land into a functioning food producing farm. They sell at the Hollywood Farmers' Market and to many restaurants in the Portland Area (and beyond?). They have hired 5 full time employees, all twentysomething graduates with an interest to start their own farms or at least gain experience. A statistic that strikes me is the average age of American farmers is 57 "and few young people with farming experience are waiting in the wings to replace them." This is a serious problem to the future of our country and our food security!


While the average American cannot pack our bags and move to some abandoned tillable land and begin anew, there is much we can do to impact the food economy. I'm starting with growing seeds. 


Here are a few things I realize I do (or am thinking about doing) when I go to a grocery store or in need of food:


1. I ask myself "where did item this come from?" If it's not from the States neighboring mine, I try to avoid it (luckily California is one of those States).
2. Is it in season where I live? (If so, chances are it's local, though not a guarantee).
3. I try to avoid lots of packaging. It's wasteful and required extra energy on the processing end.
4. I love buying bulk items.
5. I take my own containers and bags to put grains, oils, peanut butter, EVERYTHing in.
6. I go to as many farmers' markets as I can. Different markets are priced differently. Some areas have cheaper markets than others (for example, Downtown Portland is much more expensive than some suburbs). Do some investigation.
7. I like to support restaurants that have local, organic foods on the menu. I try to pick items that are in season (sadly, no asparagus in December).
8. Now I'm starting to grow my own lettuce and other veggies. I will take advantage of any fruit trees or other edible herbs and plants in my garden.
9. Finally, I am interested in how to preserve in season foods so they can be enjoyed out of season (if this means canning tomatoes, making pickled vegetables, or drying fruits I'm going to try!).

Many of these suggestions involve sacrifice. It is hard to resist bananas or other tropical fruits. I love crackers, chips and granola bars. However, my food choices do matter. Just because the item is in the store already, doesn't mean you don't impact the system when you choose not to buy it. If less people in the Montana decide to buy avocados from Mexico, the store will stock less of the product and cut down on the fossil fuels used to transport it. On average, most of the food in a typical American diet has traveled something like 1,500 miles to reach their mouths. That's each item and some come from much farther (those New Zealand apples flew at least 6000 miles to get to the USA+what it took to get to your market).

After reading Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" I am a convert. 100-mile diet, Locavore, whatever you call it, eating responsibly is one important way to save our planet for the future generations. There are many complexities, but I'm going to do what I can, the best I can. I hope you will too. There are lots of resources, check http://www.animalvegetablemiracle.com/Resources2.html and go from there.

Mixed Media: I've got the evidence...

This summer is testing my patience. Less than 2 months to go before I start my Montessori primary program at MINW. I recall the slight feelings of dread and panic that used to accompany the waning of summer's freedom. This time around, I feel more like a child wearing one of those monkey-on-my-back backpacks (you know, the ones with the leash). I'm ready to bolt forward (to September), but someone's got me reined in, restricting my movement. That someone would be Time, and he's not about to let me go an inch (or minute) faster than he pleases. So I wait.

A few years ago while cleaning out the attic, I discovered a huge pile of papers stuffed into an old art portfolio folder. Upon further investigation, they revealed themselves as my 3-6 year old self's artwork. While I haven't yet learned the elaborate theory behind art's role in the primary Montessori classroom (and I'm sure there is one), I can explain what I glean from examining their ink blot mysteries. Directly below is a list I came up with for planning and promoting art with young children. Below that are the observations that lead to these conclusions.

Suggestions for the Art Encouraging Parent/Teacher/Nanny:

• Set up an Art Corner or Shelf where supplies are accessible to the child. At first, maybe rotate types of medium and paper, keeping only one type available at a time. As the child gets comfortable, make more available at a time for his or her choosing.
• Prepare various sizes and types of paper to have on hand at all times. Let the child choose which to use. Butcher paper, water color paper, construction paper, old newspaper/magazines, etc. are some ideas.
• Teach the child how to take out the materials, set them up, use them and put them away. Do so by example without a lot of talking.
• If you save the art (which any art loving person would), write the child's name and date on the work.
• Teach the child to use both sides of the paper. This saves paper and teaches conservation.
• For the younger child, use on one medium at a time. This limits the mess and helps them focus on the behavior and properties of each type.
• Be sure that the materials are non-toxic and easy to clean up. Good media include tempera paint, oil pastels (cray-pas), chalk, watercolor, glue, etc.
• For collages, show the child how to cut up smaller pieces of paper, newspaper, magazines, tissue paper, etc. and glue them onto a lager paper. Other items such as leaves, thread, stickers, cloth, etc. can be used. I even have a collage with small scraps of wood glued and painted to a stiff cardboard. Help the child gather appropriate items for collage and put them in a basket only for these things so they aren't tempted to glue puzzle pieces, socks, or cell phones to the paper!
• Use an apron to designate the time specifically for art. Make it clear that the child can do the activity as long as they want, but show by example that it must be cleaned up afterward. Art should be done at a table or easel, but not on the walls!

Observations of My Primary Art


First of all, I observe the sheer volume of work. I now consider myself an artist and suppose primary was where I made my grand debut. My mom evidently cherished each and every scribble and glue caked paper because she saved all of it. I must have done other things in Ginni's classroom, but a big chunk of my time had to have been spent engaged in artistic wanderings.

Next I notice a level of consistency. The paper size, while varied, was clearly cut (by the teacher or assistant) and available for use at all times. There were large butcher paper pieces, which were taped to an easel for use with tempera paint. The next size down was still large...maybe 10 by 16" and was used primarily with oil pastel crayons (cray-pas). Finally there were various types of paper (watercolor, construction, stationary) cut in half to about 8.5 by 5.5." These are filled with three distinct media. Either (but not mixed) chalk, watercolor or collage.

That's where the subject of mixed media comes in. I guess in this case, instead of mixing media together, my art from primary is made of many distinct materials. In most cases, each piece of art is made with only one medium. I think this points out the importance at the 3-6 age of focusing on one thing at a time; allowing the child to get to know the properties of chalk and chalk alone. Later, after putting away the chalk and cleaning up it's dust, one could move to the easel to paint large dripping strokes; mixing colors into mud. The next day, chalk and paint are old news. How about using scissors to cut, paste and tear small scraps of paper into a masterpiece?

My art is evidence to these theories...just see for yourself.

The Long and Winding Road

Earlier, I felt so inspired to write. But now the whirring of my computer seems to disrupt my forming thoughts, much like a strong gale throwing a formation of migrating birds off course. Where am I headed? I mention my journey and think of it often. My journey really means my life and the path I continue to wander. Montessori's presence in my life has been a constant throughout, whether explicit or not and I recognize that now as I await the start of my primary training at MINW.

Though I am young I've always known and appreciated my old soul. Not old as in decrepit, but old as in joined to the long chain of time and able to access its wisdom. I can say that my Montessori education reminded my old soul of this connection and its implications. The more a child learns, the greater weight each grain of knowledge hold somehow. It all relates and new insights illuminate old truths. I believe the interconnectedness of our own in and out breaths amazed and startled me. I realized that the air I breathe once was a star, oyster, ocean, bird. Now it gives me life as it has always done.

Maybe you see the connection, maybe not. I think I do.

What I find interesting in looking back on the long and winding road are the signs pointing the way. Most often, these are not bright arrows at forks in the road. Still these turning points in life are glaringly obvious when we wear our retro-spectacles.

Now it must be time for my story - my signs - the moment my feet began choosing their path without my input. I had just graduated from college. I think I'm supposed to feel empowered, vibrant and invincible. While I managed to muster some confidence, I knew there was something more I had to do; a piece of my formal education to complete. I worked and waited. And a "plan" sprouted: Nepal. I would go, meet some college friends and see where the winds took me next.

Off I went. It was so easy to leave all I had ever known behind. I embraced the newness, the difference. Watched, listened, smiled. I learned so much, lost some of my innocence, became a sister, auntie, daughter, friend to many. I embraced so much and let myself become lost and intertwined in a place so unlike my home. Yet it was just like I had been there before. I lived at Ama Ghar home for underprivileged children, taught at a private school in Kathmandu, visited an orphanage near Chennai, Southern India, flip-flopped over the hills near Darjeeling, sweated in a hostel in Dheli and spotted yaks in the high Himalayan plains of Ladakh. All the while I absorbed the plight of the earth, the people and the culture in each region I visited. The eyes of the small children still stare into mine as their grubby hands lift toward my elbow; begging.

Eventually I had to leave, return home. It was harder than I fully realize, even now. I still suffer in small ways. I have been marked by that time away and it was hard to embrace the road that seemed so simply laid before me: find a job, stick with it, marriage, kids, retirement, death. I knew I could do more...but what?

I didn't do much and an answer fell into my lap. The foundation that ran Ama Ghar Children's Home in Nepal needed part time administrative support at their Bay Area "office." I thought about it and agreed to join the effort. At first I felt swamped with the tasks and mysteries of accomplishing the day to day operations of the nonprofit out of my bedroom. But I learned and grew. Understood my reality differently and coped with what I could not change. I surrounded myself with the work but also with people connected to the organization, and in turn Nepal. I held onto the place and people as a lifeline to those in need who I hoped to help. Montessori was with me all the time, I know now. My ability to work independently, focus, set goals and communicate with others served me well. Patience didn't hurt either.

The most glaring sign though was the day I learned that 24 children from Ama Ghar had received scholarships to Montessori House in Kathmandu. Wow, I thought. I went to Montessori too. How can I use my knowledge and connections to help this school? I turned to Facebook, where I could find Montessorians galore. I contacted Peter Davidson, the founding Head of Montessori School of Beaverton, my elementary, and he gave me some leads. I contacted one, Susan Stephenson, who shares my impulse to flee the comforts of Western life to breathe the thin air of the Himalayas. She continues to inspire me through her work in Bhutan and other Himalayan countries. Unfortunately distractions always abound. I lost momentum until I made another amazing connection.

The founder of Ama Foundation, Shrawan Nepali lives on the bottom flour of a typical Noe Valley San Francisco house. I'd always enjoyed the weekly gatherings held at his place after serving another Curry Without Worry meal to homeless friends at UN Plaza (a different story all together). Upstairs lived a young couple who sometimes frequented the parties and also expressed interest in Ama Foundation and Curry Without Worry. Not long after the children at Ama Ghar received scholarships to Montessori, I learned that a long time Montessorian was staying just above Shrawan. Victoria Barres, who has sat on the board of AMI and is a representative to UNESCO happens to be the mother of the woman who lived above Shrawan. Coincidence? Maybe...but I think not. Here I encountered another glaring signal to change my direction.

After meeting with Victoria, I continued on my way...working and working for Ama Foundation. I was inspired by her words, but still had many task to complete and I was yet to feel truly compelled to seek a new reality. I learned that my Montessori upper elementary and middle school teacher Elise Huneke-Stone was taking the primary training at MINW in Portland. I learned that my first teacher, Ginni Sackett was the head primary trainer at MINW. Slowly I made the connection.

"take the Montessori training" said a small voice said inside of me. but i wasn't quite ready.

one day i heard "TAKE THE MONTESSORI TRAINING" a bit more loudly. I looked up the program online and BOOM, it hit me. and I made my decision.

Now it seems obvious, but just a year ago I had no such clarity. Open your eyes. The answer will reveal itself.

To Nepal and Back

My journey to the AMI training must have started the first day my mom dropped me off at Whole Child Montessori. It was just shy of my third birthday. That first day I probably cried. The second, I walked straight to class without looking back.

I've always held on to very vivid memories of my primary years at Whole Child. While much of life has whizzed by me, my memories of preschool float peacefully, like the white mushroom clouds outside my window after days of rain. They don't intrude, but rest as friendly reminders of my roots. Yes, my roots. Normally I think of my roots as my great-grandmother who immigrated from Ireland or the cemetery in Page, North Dakota where my relatives are buried. But right now my roots are what keep me grounded. What feed my hungry soul. Right now those roots are my memories of Montessori.

I have lots of them. From the ages of nearly three until fourteen Montessori was the only education I really knew. But still I stress the clarity of my memories from my primary (3-6) years. In my application essay to Montessori Institute NW (where I will be attending in the fall) I discussed this very topic:

"I close my eyes. Quickly my Montessori classroom renders itself in my mind. Every time, I’m amazed at the details I unearth: the memories and feelings. I remember my devastation when the porcelain horse I brought for Show and Tell broke it leg. The joy when I zipped, buttoned and tied the wooden frames. My amazement when my teacher sucked the water out of our fish tank to clean it. But mostly I remember a clear sense of myself attending primary in an environment that nurtured a passion for learning through exploration and experience.

Through these memories I have come to understand the skills and personal qualities Montessori has helped me develop throughout my life; and it is these same memories that draw me back to Montessori now, back to the point where I embarked on my biggest adventure: a life of learning."

Recently I found this photo while cleaning out (purging more accurately). See, I just returned home. Home from Nepal. While Nepal features prominently in my return home to Montessori, I'll leave the explanation of its significance to another day. Back to the photo: the image exemplifies my point. This is what I remember. Only through an inner calm and confidence in myself could I achieve this state of concentration. At age three or four I wanted order and created it wherever I could. From a box of several hundred multicolored beads I chose one color to place in a line. Now, twenty some odd years later I would do anything to be able to sort, order or organize the piles of stuff currently creating islands around my room. Chaos became a resident in my life long ago and I have long been searching for that calm eye inside the twirling storm. Finally I (re)found something: Montessori.

With my decision to attend MINW this fall and pursue my Masters in Montessori Primary Education at Loyola MD, I am going back to my roots; revisiting those memories to unlock their forgotten lessons. Ultimately I will harvest new meaning and sprout deeper roots, anchoring me more firmly when the winds of life again blow.

Stay Tuned....

I often think how different it is to write in public: putting my thoughts out for all the world to search and tag and comment. So here is a direct address to you, written over a few weeks ago, that is still relevant today.

I am sitting on a purple bench in at gate 1 in the Hong Kong airport. I'm on the last hour of my 10 hour layover here. Soon we'll be boarding our plane to Kathmandu. I am so tired I cry spontaneously. I can tell my travel muscles are weak and unused. I think I'm at my low point, but still am so excited to be returning to Nepal.

March 29, 2010: "For some of you, much of the following will be old news, but for others, I may not have contacted you in at least 2 years. I apologize for being out of touch, if that is the case, and thank all of you for being in my life and sharing it with me.

I feel compelled to write you all for various reasons. There are many things happening in my life that I want to share so you can be a part of them as well. Where to start?

Wednesday is my last day with the Ama Foundation. I have been working for this small non-profit organization for over 1 year now. I first became involved while living at Ama Ghar Children's Home in Nepal. Ama Foundation supports Ama Ghar so I have been working here in San Francisco sustain the operations of Ama Foundation so that the underprivileged Nepalese children have a bright future. It has been a wonderful journey and I have received so much for all the time and energy I have given this organization.

What's next? Well, I thought that in the beginning of April, I would be moving back to Portland to start a new chapter of my life there. I still am but there is a twist. I will actually be returning to Nepal around the 9th of April to spend time with my boyfriend's father, who is living in Kathmandu (yes, I have a boyfriend from Nepal, who I met in San Francisco. We've been together for over a year!). I look forward to returning to Kathmandu, where my eyes were opened to the world in many new ways and spending at least a month visiting my friends and family there. Those of you in Nepal, I hope to see you. I fear one month is not long enough to see all the wonderful people I met there two years ago.

When I return from Nepal, I will be moving back to Portland. I'll spend the summer there, hopefully working and enjoying my favorite fruits (peaches and berries). In the fall, I'll begin a one year program at Montessori Institute Northwest to become a primary teacher (for children ages 3-6). Through my adventures, job with Ama Foundation, and Montessori upbringing, I have come to see myself as a Montessori teacher and I couldn't be more excited to start this program.

I have so many thoughts and feelings about all of these changes, but I cannot fully express them yet. All I know is that I am ready to take it all on.

Thank you for your support throughout the years. Whether I've known you my whole life, or I met you recently, you are all special to me.

Now, one last thing that is hard for me to do, but I find so important. As you know, I've been working to support the orphaned and abandoned children at Ama Ghar in Nepal. I ask that if you have not already, please consider making a donation to the Ama Foundation. Currently, we are running a campaign to raise money to install a sustainable water conservation system at the new Ama Ghar home near Kathmandu. This system will purify gray water and keep pollutants out of the nearby river. It will also promote innovative green technologies in the local community. Please support this effort if you are able. It would mean so much to me and the community of Ama Ghar. Visit http://www.globalgiving.org/projects/amafoundation-h2o-conservation/ to learn more and donate.

Thank you again for your time and support. Even when I am alone, I know I have so many friends and family members all over the world. Please keep in touch."

a new beginning

after many months, i sit to reflect. i have new ideas. using all the amazing knowledge bestowed upon me in the past few years...it's all coming together. i guess i don't want to torment over decisions or pain myself at which direction to take. I believe that the right thing comes to all of us, without the difficulty and struggle. like clouds breaking, allowing the clear light to penetrate our being...an insight otherwise hidden will make itself known.

the other day i decided i want to apply to the pre school montessori training program in portland. it wasn't all that hard. i had a thought and decided to investigate the reality of my idea. after a few moments of discovery, i decided it was the right thing to do. a few tears followed. but of relief. it has been a while since i felt that way. knowing that this moment has brought me this far and that i now have a choice.

maybe i have not expressed here the amazing feeling i've experienced since traveling. like my life clicked and it all was out of my control. after that moment, though i cannot pinpoint it exactly-i realized i was riding a nice, comfortable wave...taking me to Ama Foundation, Curry Without Worry and a relationship that means something more than I know. Yes, I can say I have fallen in love and I am so grateful for this and for the person and energy represented by this relationship. Really, I can see that my whole journey was for this reason. To find a complement and someone to learn from and understand the world from his perspective. not to discount my own, but always it is important to look at things differently than natural. sometimes i struggle, with my own emotions, expectations and hopes. I care so much that sometimes i find myself getting angry and upset. why these feelings? what do they matter? i guess my conclusion is that they do matter. always. but they do not have to consume, debilitate. in my life i let my emotions take me over...make any action difficult and pointless. instead i must learn to accept them as feeling but never reality. all we are is waves. up and down...pushing and releasing the energy inside and outside.

nothing matters yet everything hold importance. details are just moments of clarity and joy or sorrow. however...we hold on to too much. this or that memory is just that. it passes and life moves on. things and remembrances. they are life but also cannot define it.

lately i need my hood. something to cover me...my head, my mind, and my energy. not to hide, but to be protected from the many unknown forces push and pressing. but i've decide a new direction. after months of floating and letting the wind and waves dictate my path, i've push back. paddled forward. paddled in a direction. forward or backwards are irrelevant. it feels good. to take a stand for my own future. regardless of others and letting go of obligations i feel.

Montessori. that deserves a capital letter. an amazing woman who inspired a movement. i just see this as a jumping off point. using all i know to better the world without disregarding my own life and loves and hopes. babies and home and food and friends. all of this is just as important as saving the world. if we can all live happy lives, the world problems dissolve. however, i also feel pulled toward the suffering cultures and lives out there. so many places. no one is an island. someone once said. there is way to service my own need while also giving all to a larger power.

at the moment i don't feel i am doing service to my own being. while i may be giving to others, my personal vibrancy is suffering. this can be changed. i'm not worried. just this moment i need to embrace as i have many others. don't wait for something better to come. this is now and it is all we really have. the cycle that is our happiness continues. moments of sadness are happiness manifesting. life.

thank you. world for allowing my creation. and all how have supported it since it inception. always the holidays conjure up memories of my grandmother Ruth. love to family and struggles and joys that word manifests.

love to all who sacrifice and hope and believe. peace. and peaces.

may the poodle within all of us reveal the simplicity of joy. yes.

a lot to explain

the whirlpool has finally settled. i rest once again at my home in portland, soaking up realities like a reluctant sponge. one you have to squeeze a few times before water easily rushes out.

i've been squeezed a few times already. it doesn't hurt at first...but later on a little soreness persists. but like every muscle, lactic acid in the heart also dissolves. finally the pain eases. pain is a beautiful teacher. scars left over from rough encounters heal but always remind us of our careless fragility. a scar is a wildly used symbol, but fitting here. it is a consequence.

i think lately i've been seeking my consequences. life is full of recklessness, but in my case i think extreme. in my own mind i believe this anyway. i know there is a lot to explain that i just cannot. but sometimes one being survives a long time in a craze. constant flight keeps harm steps--sometimes miles, behind. a head above the foaming waves allows in and out breaths. even as predators circle the clear waters below, quick fluttering feet make bubbles disguising vulnerability.

but consequences--short lived or long lasting, request an emergency landing...the momentary calm acknowledgment of dangers below.

this does apply to me

however, each day teaches us multitudes. knowledge seeps in quickly when the water tight mind-vessel tears.

maybe i tried to be plastic coated...impenetrable. a "man-made" bubble resisting true consequences. but karma has a way of sticking a sharp pin through the thickest armor. even without knowing it, a leak develops...quickly compromising comfortable ignorance.

soon i'm swimming frantically...spitting and gasping as wisdom makes it way down my throat.

but to be a sponge...always filled with life-giving moisture. atoms holding the mystery of life and death. taking in and giving in balance. learning, losing, and welcoming the outside vision. accepting reality as the nourishment sustaining growth.

this moment i soak...the universe ocean gently entering the pour-like wholes in my mind.

eye of the storm

"I shall walk across the land that has been chosen

And I shall climb the mountain so high,
I shall go across the sea and across the ocean
And sing with the bird in the sky,
Its only jah up above man who leads the way
Under whose shadow I abide,
Me say you’re running and you’re running and you’re running away
But from yourself you know you can't hide"

जय ॐ नुमः शिवाय

by Apache Indian

for a while, there i was...drowsy eyes watching the spinning chaos surround and envelop me.
in a rare moment, the peripheral winds would penetrate my senses,
window panes' familiar rattle reminding me of a world losing its mind.

spring's pollen twirls ribbon-like
the wind energy serving an important
purpose

spreading genetic magic,
time encompassing capsules
holding complex patterns of life
humans vainly try to map and improve

but we also spread our pollen in the winds
and must learn to value its magic
and fear its vast power

for it holds every moment of human history,
future moments
and hope for something better

but carelessly it is tossed...
misunderstood
the winds do not make this mistake

dazed and confused

always i am busy...seems to be my nature to fidget and fuss about something. never quite satisfied. there's always something to worry about even if your own life is perfect. and who's life is? can i meet you? i'd just admire your peaceful admiration for the world but i could never be that way. could i...?

i guess this moment i am a little too tired, warm, and ready for sleep. willa, my aunt julie's dog has already drifted into doggy dream land at the foot of my bed. probably seeing visions of jerky treats dancing in her head. i'll envy that until i, too, slip into a different world...one hopefully void of violence, natural disaster, and fear. dreamless sleep is far more appealing to me than dreaming of those things. i am apt to dream furiously, and painfully, so definitely no dreams are better then even the good, slightly twisted ones.

sleep, will you please leave the cords of my mind untangled tonight?

i would be so grateful.

Missing Peaces...

It's been over 6 months since I returned from my travels--yet my mind still wanders, wondering what exactly happened. Still I feel like I'm journeying, always on the move. Settling feels difficult when the desire to move is strong, but I've slowed down enough to look back and breathe.

It's been over 6 months and I feel I am finally ready to explore the path I have taken and reflect upon who I am becoming. It feels strange to write knowing the power will stay on all night and I'm not rushed to complete this entry before my hour is up or something unexpectedly interesting interrupts me.

Now only my Gmail and Facebook distract me from clarity of thought. Constant reminders of my vast network of love, support, and connections that I think of so often but seldom reach out to. Coming home, to Portland (for it will always be my place of peace) allows me to come up for fresh air after many months of swimming....a little oxygen deprived.

I'd like to take some time to share my journeying. Mostly share with myself, because I have yet to really discover the complexly woven pattern binding me to this life on earth. But also to dig up within myself any wisdom I harbor...to share with you. Whoever you are. Whoever I am. By living we all absorb the collective knowledge held by the universe of time. We don't always know it, but each of us have the opportunity to share it, piece by piece, in whatever medium most comfortable.

I will attempt to do this. It may take many months, years, my whole life. But if we are all patient, beautiful images may spontaneously exhale into view. Or upload into view. Just wait, peace by peace....

home is where the heart is?

for those of you who don't know, i've finally arrived. i've landed. i've come down from the highest of heights and come down to breathe the thick, misty air of the pacific northwest...well for two weeks anyway. but at the moment i'm on my way to San Francisco, another land of mist...well fog is the less romantic way of putting it...to....WORK. yes, it's true, after many months of "working" now it is time for real work. i'm excited and ready for a new adventure. lucky for me (and my family who were expecting to see me a little more than two weeks), this job is for about a month (until the fateful election day), and i'll gain some experience, hopefully some friends, and an idea of how ready i am to face this next step.

the last few months of my trip were full of excitement, adventure, and community building. it's too much to really get into. i don't know if i'll ever get into it. about all i can do is breathe in and out and appreciate the experiences and friendships i was blessed to make.

in new delhi i met up with a few friends who also wanted to make the overland journey to Ladakh. my traveling partners were a 19 year old guy from the UK, a 23 year old woman from Germany, and a 52 year old man from the UK. we made quite a good group of companions. i couldn't have been happier to travel with them. we took a 16 hour night bus to Manali, then a 2 day trek (by bus) up to Leh in Ladakh. what a journey. never would i have expected it could be so beautiful and hilarious. a beautiful disaster? could we say. but not a disaster in the negative sense, in the most positive imagination of the word. but, my flight is boarding at the moment, time to fly up again. the world looks different from higher perspectives.

mangoes really do make my lips itchy

delhi is as intense as people make it out to be but for some reason i though it would be terrifyingly confrontational and overwhelming. maybe for a fresh pair of travelling legs, the sea of offering rickshaw drivers, ever persistent "travel agents" and sad looking beggars would inspire a bit of a wobble and nausia. however, i've decided, almost egotistically, that i have become somewhat surprisingly, a SEAsoned traveler in some senses. at least enough to wander around this strange city in search of the modern art museum, india gate, the main shopping circle thing, and hopefully a few more breathtakingly beautiful (not smelling) sights i know this city has to offer. i'm proud of my first few hours in delhi. i arrived in the evening and made friends with the american couple here on business, a Tibetan spiritual teacher, and my German airport buddy. when they had all scattered their separate ways, I found the waiting area for the green 50 rupees bus that would take me close to the hotel area. finally after a long time it came and all those who had patiently waited piled on. it was later than i had wanted to be arriving but it was all for the sake of an adventure and saving a few hundred rupees. when i felt like i was getting close i tried to ask the man next to me but he knew "thoraa english' and me 'no hindi' but he told me to worked for the army and i discovered i do understand some hindi (thanks nepali) but i want to respond in nepali. i got off at my stop thanks to the helpful people and started the most perilous part of my journey from the New Delhi Train Station to Anoop Hotel. if you are white/tourist looking and carrying a backpack you are like a moving target symbolizing 5-10 rupees plus commission (if they manage to take you to the hotel of their choice). they all wanted me to jump aboard so they could take me where they wanted. this is why i avoided the taxi from the airport and i wasn't going to give in now. i politely declined and followed the directions of the kind police officers, web surfers in a cafe and hopeful rickshaw drivers over the train station, through the night food vendors, past the strange cows and stick pile road marker, beyond the henna creators booths, over the cow pies and rubbish piles to Anoop Hotel. Upon arrival, i cleaned myself, so happy for running water i didn't mind using and crashed into the lovely soft bed.

the several days following my arrival have been just as eventful and tiring. even when i don't do much, it is enough to make my cold shower and bed the most inviting ofer i receive. i've met some nice travelers at restaurants: the swedish couple here for a brother's wedding, the woman from holland travelling from varanasi, and Laura and Lauren from england crazily shopping before their late night flight home. and finally i've met alma and ian, two of the people i will be travelling to ladakh with. i'm so happy to be a "real" traveller now, getting places on my own a little and making my own choices. i'm not steering my own ship, getting used to the gentle rocking of the journey, knowing that any storms that come my way will once again go. but all the while thinking, mangoes really do make my lips itchy...or perhaps i'm just allergic to peanut butter/INDIA.

small people

children are the hope, the future, the joy

children also show the faults in human beings. it is hard to be so critical of such small, beautiful, energetic beings. i want to think they are all innocent, kind, well intentioned, and self less. but this is just not the case. much of my experience has been surrounding children. large groups of them in varying situations. sometimes in the classroom, other times on field trips, and mostly in their own home (except there are 40 living in one house). it is just tough to give so many individuals the attention they all deserve. what i've noticed most is the loud, courageous, and sometimes just outright pushy students/children/people in general end up getting the most attention whether they deserve it our not. hmm...i feeling that i sound negative. though it is disappointing to realize that all children are not perfect angels (especially when they are together in a big group), spending so much time listening to shouting voices and so much energy trying to quiet them also inspires me. if we could better utilize the excess energy these children have, and give them the kind of attention that allows them to do this, i think so many things could be improved. they are brilliant, creative, kind, and funny in so many unimaginable ways. for all their faults, they still are the hope, the future and the joy.

soon i leave nepal. yes, i will return. but first i must leave. i am going to india in a few weeks to experience a new culture and work in Ladakh. This is a very Northeast area of India nearby Tibet. it will be strange and inspiring, magical, yet humbling. i cannot even imagine.
imagine: http://www.pbase.com/asianodyssey/leh.
i cannot lie. i am ready for a change. i have done all i can here in nepal but really i feel like i have done very little. it is hard to do things, it seems. i feel the most i have done is created some friendships which will i hope stay with me forever. the conversations i've had with people, old and young, about life, struggle, hope, and despair are most valuable to me. though the words we spoke have now flown into the mists, the feelings they gave me will remain with me for much longer. i've luckily shared the experience with some good friends from the USA also so it will be a good support to me to have such people in my life. i have been here on my own almost four and a half months, but i never truly felt alone. hospitality toward strangers is a skill so many of us have forgotten. for foreigners the USA is a rough, unforgiving, often unwelcoming place. it is just the opposite here. for this i am thankful. i will truly miss my many didis, dajus, bahinis, bhais, anties, uncles, and aamas. what to do without such loving, welcoming, helpful family.

but it is too soon to say goodbye. i will leave but this place will always be close to my spirit and lifeblood. how to make both families happy? how to be so close and so far at once? just because i am not home, does not mean i do not miss it. just because i have a new family, does not mean i do not miss the old.

thinking of you and thanking you.

a few photos...

view of a festival in a village

south india actually happened

i understand now why blogs are so difficult to update. it's not that i don't want to, it's just that i don't do it. i'm so sorry. i know most of you have given up on me. i am really tired and suffering from a cold. malai khoki lageko chha. coughing. but i will do my best to give you an idea of what my trip to india was like. however, complete sentences are the way of the past.

16 hour night bus trip means dinner with the bus drivers...
awkward silence but i'm proud to eat with my hands

arrive in surunga, jhapa district, nepal
my dajyu meets me at 6am as the bus drivers drop me meters from his home
i drink tea and my new sisters come to take me home
tiredness overwhelms me but i am happy to meet more gautams
the little village atmosphere welcomes me, the houses all stand up on steaks
i sleep and eat and we walk to the river
so much more happens there. i feel loved, embarassed for all the attention, happy
but the next day i must go...indiama janchhu.

india is a new world at first. the sights and sounds seem so different
where did my nepal go?
then the bus starts climbing up hills. happy hills
and then we arrive, nepali words i can read once more
and i find thandiwe, my friend. we match. our dresses are the same blue color.
we walk but soon i feel a fever and sickness. i almost don't make it the long walk home.
when i do it is over. all i can do is sleep. my first real sickness.

finally i recover a few days later and meet a friend of mine from kathmandu's family.
connections are webbing outward the longer i stay here. all people are willing to take me in
kalimpong is great. much like nepal but in india things are different.
water is available to more people, lights also come on and off
there are maintained roads.

and there are trains. after a few days in kalimpong the train became my home
siliguri train station. begger children sleep on the stairs.
but once on the train we sleep on blue vinal bunks, that become sticky with sweat and dust
but heat makes us sleep. i open my book to read but my eyes close
food comes through the train. chai, coffee, chai. samosi! lunch?
always our reply is no. but always they ask and then laugh.
the nepali speakers on the train are saviours. kind, giving, looking out.

when we emerge from the cacoon train, i see a new world
bright colors, sweet jack fruit smells.
but i am dirt and sweat only. soiled takes on new meaning.
we wash and dark water flows.

wait, i just found the coolest thing...

now can type in nepali!! look दाल भात this says daal bhat...and आमा घर that says ama ghar. and एमेली that says emily। ऊप्स नो आईटी इस तुर्निंग एवेर्य्थिंग इन्तो थे स्क्रिप्ट! it started to turn everything i wrote into the script.....ook.

pugyo chha! bhayo! dhanyabad!

the food. i never get tired of daal bhat, tarkadi, and achar. (Almost) every day, twice a day and always so tasty! mitho chha!! that's lentils (almost like soup that we pour over the rice), rice, a type of vegetable (i have eaten many new kinds, like jackfriut, every kind of green vegetable, and this one called lady fingers (?), beans, cauliflower, potatoes, etc.) and pickle. the pickles are all different types. some are like salsa, some are made from ground sesame seeds, some actually taste like our pickles. usually they are spicy or bitter or a little salty to add flavour to the meal. I enjoy them very much. i always eat with my hands when possible. there is a specific way to eat and you make a sort of shovel with your hand and push the food into your mouth. it took me a while to master the technique and i still have difficulty at times. the children at ama ghar laughed at me and kept telling me how to do it until i figured it out. in nepal, everyone eats the same thing, morning and night, every day. they drink tea early in the morning, then daal bhat around 9 or 10, more tea and khaaja (snacks) around 3 or so, and then daal bhat again later in the night. i am never hungry. it is nice, but also difficult because i usually do not choose when or what or how much i eat. i am starting to ask for less rice, but less rice doesn't always mean less and even when i say i've eaten snacks, i often am served more anyway. i always eat what is put in front of me. i have to. i cannot waste the food and i do not want to be rude and refuse tea or food when it is offered to me. i enjoy it all, but now i think i am getting fat. yes, it is true. i try not to care so much, but i feel full and bloated. i don't actually thing i'm getting that fat, but maybe i am. it's hard to tell. i have started to do exercises in my room but i am also lazy. fat and lazy. where i stay now is a one minute walk to the school, so i don't get exercise walking to work. i've thought about going for walks, but again, i am lazy. when i wake up in the morning i lay in bed until manju or elija (the wife and niece of gautam, the principal) come in with my tea. so lazy. and they won't let me help clean the dishes or wash even though i try. all this is to say my gratitude for the wonderful hospitality. really wonderful. i always feel well taken care of in the food and drink department. the other things (like having running water) are outside of my hosts' control and i think it is important to recognize (and experience the truth) that so many places in the world do not have all the things i've grown up with.

so if you miss you, just think...at the end of the day i am bloated, lazy, and stinking, so you really aren't missing much!