Nothing

Okay, let's try this again.

This is a test

This is only a test. Do BOTH of my blogs go through to Peace Corps journals? How does one stop that from happening? What if say I want to not be on this website? Any way to opt out? Sheesh . . . .

The Committee

I wouldn't believe it if I didn't live it. I am so different when I am 'on the road.' I become more out-going and happier. The world around me is fresh and exciting. I respond by being alert and open. Now I feel myself shutting down again and I know that I can't stay here. I can't afford the rent on places that appeal to me and the subsidized places are . . . well. . . . they're nice, really. I just don't feel ready for them. They're so plain, boxes full of old women, no vegetable gardens happening, no pets allowed.
I say I can't live without my cat or a dog and yet even as I say that I'm making plans to travel, to live dormitory style, or in an RV for 5 months, or camping and after that to head to Mexico. "And what about Jupiter," Catherine asks me. I know, I know. Is it possible that I could somehow bring him along with me? Well, anyway, I diverge. Or perhaps not. The point of the story is that I seem to be split in half on every issue in my life right now. If I make one choice I gain this and lose that. If I make another, something else is gained and lost.

Ah, the winter blues. I do believe they are bugging me. That melancholy part of me that comes around in January and February. I feel low on energy, easily lose drive, tired a lot, lack of motivation. Or it could be that my thyroid needs some adjusting.

Grand Mesa

At last, an opportunity to get up to Grand Mesa. The sky was brilliant blue and the temps were predicted to be in the 40s. So off I went.

A few tracks on the lake

I followed the main trail for a few hundred feet, then came to a quieter trail that cut off to the right. Not that the main trail was noisy. Although I did meet a few others out there for the most part my day looked just like this.

 

More blue sky sans airplane

 

What a great day! I resisted going out at first - aw, such a long drive I thought. It will probably be cold, I thought. I'm glad I got out there. It was incredible - just what the doctor ordered.

A Sunday at the Monument

At last the smog that has been settled over the valley lifted and blew away. I don't wish it on anyone else, I don't know where it went to, but it's like a weight off my shoulders. From a distance it looked like a 100s feet thick wool blanket. I've had a headache and felt so tired for 3-4 days.

Yesterday I went up to the Monument. The air was so clear and it was so quiet. When I arrived at the parking area at 11am there were two other cars there, but I think they were employees. When I returned, there were a dozen cars there. But where were all the people? I saw no one on the trail and I saw no one walking around. Maybe there was a presentation or something? But I'm not complaining. I enjoyed the crisp air, the solitude, the blue sky, the quiet.

Tracks on the trail, but I saw no other people all day.

The smog still blankets the valley

May He Prosper . . . .

I stayed at the Harmony Hostel while in Istanbul - www.istanbulharmonyhostel.com or on hostelz.com - www.hostelz.com/hostel/156426-Harmony-Hostel. It's a wonderful little hostel very near the bus-line and within walking distance of the central part of town. A very nice ambiance, with pillows on the floor, free meals, open areas where guests and staff can get to know one another, great place for single travelers to meet others. Have I said it all? The hostel is above a carpet shop and when open there's always the sign out front: "Harmony Hostel - same same only different."

Turns out I helped them sell this magnificent bedspread to my friend, Claudia.

Ugur works there. He's a Kurd, self-taught English, a peace worker in my eyes, one of the best in the world. He's from a small Kurdish village in southeastern Turkey, one of the many threatened by flooding from the development of dams in that region, that predominantly Kurdish region. Person by person he spreads truth and peace. He shares his thoughts, gleaned from a difficult life, that violence and hatred are not the path to justice and peace.

When I leave Istanbul he carries my luggage to the bus stop and waits with me for the bus to arrive. We sit together on the bench and chat, this old American woman and this young Kurdish man. I take his photo.

"Ahhhhhhh . . ," he says wistfully, as he looks out across the park. "The women I see here are so beautiful. I would never be able to see women such as this in my own village."

Our Blue, Singing Mother

As the Earth spins on her axis, the Sun is continually appearing along an arc from north to south. As the Sun rises above the horizon, the birds awaken and begin singing. If we could move out into space and had the ears to hear, we would hear her music as she spins, a constant chorus of birdsong, forever greeting the coming of the Sun.

News Flash!!

It was reported that yesterday was a record-breaking day for love. . . .

What Gives My Life Juice?

I've been in a quandary for the past few months about "What to do about the future?" Where do I live, considering it seems I can't find a place to live that I like? But that's not quite true. When I let my thoughts and feelings ramble outside their box, what I discover is that I end up in Mexico again and again. I must return to Mexico, to re-visit Merida and San Cristobal. I must see Palenque and Oaxaca. Aiyeee . . . . yes. When I think of all the places I've been, it's Mexico that calls me back the strongest. I loved Merida, I thought it was one of the most beautiful cities. It's not really. It's just a plain city, all square blocks. But I felt so safe there. A city of one million people, people who walk, people who stroll around the large central park every evening, people who gather in the town center to watch traditional dancers and musicians. I love it. Did I say that already?

Beach near Merida

I think it's fair to assume that when I think about doing something or going some place and I get those wonderful, excited feelings . . . then that's exactly what I should be doing. I can't face settling in to some "nice" senior apartments yet. I'm not crazy about Junction, though I think it will function as a home base someday. Just not yet. I'm certain that I want to spend this coming winter in Mexico. Nothing else will do.

A Moment in Time

Claudia and I have opted for a ferry ride on the Bosphorus. The boat is crowded; a veritable stew of people from all over the world. I settle down on an inside bench, out of the wind and next to a man a few years younger than myself. Somehow in our greeting conversation I learn that he is Iraqi.
"Do you like Americans," I ask?
"No," he replies.
My casual traveler-meeting-traveler facade collapses and tears well up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I say. "I never wanted this war. I cried for Iraqis. I cry now.".
No more words were spoken between us, but our worlds had been bridged and our hearts had touched. We spoke silently of the suffering of being human and our inability to ease the suffering of others. And yet we did, in that moment, do exactly that. I was able to give voice to my grief and he was able to understand and forgive. Was this moment the reason I left Armenia early and traveled to Turkey? Just to meet this one Iraqi, to apologize to him, and to receive his understanding back? It feels that way. It's one of the most powerful memories of my trip.
A few minutes later we have regained our composure and another passenger takes our photo. I notice that our heads are tipping towards each other and we are both smiling.

 

"I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do."  Helen Keller

Good Morning!

I suppose everyone will be out shopping at the mall all day. I'd love to go too, but alas, I must wash my hair and feed the cat today.

On another note . . . 

The Happy Place

I think I should be able to find it. I keep looking.

Okay, so this is me. I want to travel almost all the time but I also want a home base. Unfortunately, I can't seem to afford both. I want to live some place for awhile, then travel for awhile. An RV or trailer of some sort seems like an ideal solution. But I've yet to see even one affordable (under $500/mo) RV park in Colorado that I like.  So until I can find a place to put it - other than in a storage lot - I'll wait to buy it.

A New-Comer's Eye View

I'm new to Grand Junction. When traveling, one of the first things I do when I enter a town is get my bearings. I walk. I step out my front door and I walk the street in front. Then I go around the block. I gradually make longer arcs until I know very well where I am. In this way, I also get a feel for the local culture and people.

So I decided to greet Grand Junction the same way. The fact that Junction was not built with walkers in mind doesn't daunt me. That in itself tells me a story. When walking around a city or town, I like to see what people are doing, how they go about their day. Grand Junction, it seems, was built with the car in mind. It's streets are mostly laid out in square grids. Sidewalks line most of the streets, but very few people walk along them for pleasure. Students scurry about the campus but other than that it seems the sidewalks are only used by those who have no other means of transportation.

In search of a place to walk where I didn't have to deal with traffic noise and exhaust and where I could find a little nature, I stumbled upon Connected Lakes Park on the western edge of town. Its winding path is lined with giant cottonwood trees and follows along the river. I meet other walkers here but it's never crowded. People go there for the quiet and solitude so one can sit quietly by the lake or on the edge of a field to observe wildlife and be assured that others will respect that. It has a very restful feeling about it. Its winding tree-lined path is in sharp contrast to the angular and barren city.

Good Morning!

Welcome to a New Day on Planet Earth! Awesome, eh? Awesome and weird. We open our eyes, we breathe in, we breathe out. I pick up a cup which miraculously holds liquid, even though it is made of nothing but energy and space. I turn my head and direct my hand to lift the cup; I swallow and feel pleasure. Then I return to typing. The most hideous-looking creatures all climbing all over me right now. That little itch on my head, that tickle on my neck. They are grooming me, happily munching my dead skin. I look around and know that I am. How weird and awesome is all that? 

wikileaks

All focus is on Assange, not on the content of the material. Well, perhaps there are many right now sitting at desks high in the sky poring over them letter by letter. I'm sure. But the media, the government. Their reactions have been interesting. Actually, they've been frightening. It seems that we the people are expected to give up every sort of privacy in our dear war on terrorism. To the point that I must allow some goon at the airport to grope my crotch if I want to fly. However, those in the government live so much in secrecy that they can't conceive of living in the open. I see fear on old Hillary's face when she speaks, and it seems to be a personally felt fear. That is, not fear of some abstraction in the future. I swear, she almost looked like a lizard when she spoke out against Assange; her eyes were large, they darted; her skin looked pale, she seemed a little breathless. The most interesting thing about all of this is that it seems to be bringing the rope in tighter around us. Who's surprised? Any excuse. Our freedom shrinks to nearly nothing. They have reacted with knee-jerk quickness. New "Patriot Acts" to follow. Taking any bets?