Bussy Go!!

Long time, no blog

2012-02-05T12:30:00.000+05:30

Well it has been a very long time since I have blogged. Above all else, what I truly feel now is . . . disconnected from my own life. I have been moving around (literally . . . I moved from my home of 12 years in Seattle to the Big Island of Hawaii in November), doing things (surfing, SCUBA-diving, swimming, snorkeling, hiking with the dogs . . . sounds great doesn't it?), and trying to just manage most of the time. And yet, I feel very disconnected from all of this. And so, I write.

A lot has happened since the big India adventure in 2010. Rather than rehash all the ups and downs of life in the interim, I will simply start with today:

I saw the Grateful Dead, in concert, and danced about 15 feet away from the stage here in Hawaii beneath clear blue skies. Yes, in 2012.

Ok, so it wasn't exactly the Grateful Dead. But it was as close as I'm going to come! The official name of the group is The David Nelson Band, but, come on, the guy is famous because he played with Jerry Garcia.

I danced. I watched people. I thought about who I wanted to be. I imagined what it might feel like to have some of the things I think I want. I looked at my partner Karl, really looked at him. I was connected. I was present. I participated in my own life and I knew it while it was happening. Consciousness.

Then, the moment ended, the band went on break, we came home, fed the dogs, showered, made dinner and watched the end of Rambo 3. And just like that, I was disconnected.

But in that period of time, when I was present and available to myself and to others, I decided to blog because nothing helps me remain connected so much as putting pen to paper, or, in this case, fingers to keyboard. So, lovely readers if there are any of you remaining, you may look forward to further discussion of this issue of trying to remain present and connected for our own lives. I hope you'll share your thoughts and experiences as I share mine.

Cheers for now :-)

Abigail

My Sweet Joe

2011-05-17T04:42:00.001+05:30

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2011-01-02T05:32:00.000+05:30

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The Beautiful People of the VSPCA

2010-08-06T19:17:00.000+05:30

When good things are happening for animals, you can bet that compassionate and hard-working people are behind it. The people who work at the VSPCA are committed to making all the animals at the shelter happy and comfortable. Not only that but they have fun while they are doing it!

For many of these folks, working at the shelter is a terrific opportunity to have a job. For the women in particular, the VSPCA offers perhaps their first employment outside the home.

The happy, smiling faces of these beautiful greeted me every day. Before I left India I persuaded almost everyone to let me take his or her picture. I think these photos capture the essense of love and joy that emanates from each of these beautiful people.

I will be updating this post with the names as Sarada and Raj send them to me. I have included as many names as I can.

Pradeep, the founder of VSPCA has saved thousands of animals

Sarada, the shelter manager for the small animals pictured here with her favorite "Blackie"

Raj, the shelter manager for the large animals

Malika, Pradeep's wife, whose home is overflowing with the animals she has saved

Raju works in the office and definitely enjoys life!

Virender also works in the office and has way too much fun!

All over the shelter are beautiful quotations painted on the walls. I love this one:

Chenna, who did not want his picture taken. He helped me give lots of dog baths!

One of the veterinarians, gently giving vitamins to a guinea pig

The best cat-catcher at the shelter!

Back to work:

Turtles, Tortoises and Lizards!

2010-06-19T17:17:00.007+05:30

Sea Turtles enjoy the status of one of the world's most highly protected animals. They are protected under international treaties and by the laws of many nations. Such high protection comes because seven species of Sea Turtles are critically endangered species. Despite strict laws, the Sea Turtle continues to be illegally hunted and traded in many parts of the world. The VSPCA is involved with Sea Turtle protection and conservation off the East Coast of India and works to enforce India's laws which strictly prohibit the sale or trade of Sea Turtles and their eggs.

I did not take the following photo of this beautiful Sea Turtle happily in its natural oceanic habitat, but I found it uncopyrighted on the internet!:

Prior to the VSPCA's inception in 1996, Sea Turtles and their eggs were openly traded on the streets of Visakhapatnam, India, despite strong national and international laws banning such activity. Pradeep Nath, the founder of VSPCA, used to enforce the laws himself by following such traders down the street, bringing them to police attention, and demanding arrests and prosecutions of the traders.

In addition to seeing their numbers threatened by illegal poaching, the turtles were subjected to terrible cruelty by the traders. To kill the turtles, the traders would turn them upside down and slice open their bellies, an act that did not kill the animal immediately but rather allowed it to suffer very much alive. Alternatively, some of these sea creatures were placed over a fire until they could not breathe and had to stick their heads out for air. The poachers then chopped off the head. Finally, sometimes they were simply turned upside down and left in the hot sun. From this position these animals could not escape nor obtain water and it could take 3 days for death to occur.

The VSPCA has assisted in preserving one of the ocean's great species and has virtually eliminated this terrible suffering in local areas. In Visakhapatnam today, you will not see any trade in Sea Turtles or their eggs.

Obviously the VSPCA is not home to any Sea Turtles because these lovely creatures belong in the ocean. However, the shelter does provide happy sanctuary to many rescued Star Tortoises like this fellow!

The tortoises have their own dedicated space at the shelter where they roam and play without fear. Star Tortoises have a lifespan of 40-50 years if left undisturbed. Like the Sea Turtle, the Star Tortoise is a highly protected endangered species.

Here is a baby crawling over and around the very patient adults:

And wandering on his own:

At first, I was a little cautious, being fairly new to cold-blooded creatures:

But pretty soon we were holding hands:

Star Tortoises are amphibians that live in rocky areas in the hills. They come down from the hill to access water in a stream and this is often where they risk being captured by poachers. Because the Star Tortoise can go without food for 10-15 days, it is an easy target for the smugglers to trade out of India on the international black market.

The Star Tortoise is one of the top 10 most endangered species in Asia. They are often illegally sold into China for use in medicinal remedies and as food for the dinner table. They are also sought as pets in several Western nations including the United States, despite international protection, and reach a black market price of $200US per animal.

Star Tortoises are nearing extinction, which is why the preservation of Star Tortoises at VSPCA and elsewhere is critically important.

They are gentle, curious creatures:

He checks me out...

Gets a little closer...

Then decides I'm cool enough.

Last among the cold-blooded friends today is the Monitor Lizard. VSPCA has rescued several Monitor Lizards in the past but does not have any at the shelter right now. Therefore, I am using another picture found uncopyrighted on the internet:

These creatures, like the turtles and tortoises, are endangered yet hunted. It India, they are so strictly protected that it is illegal just to be in possession of one. But before the VSPCA sought prosecutions for illegal possession and trade of these majestic animals, these laws went unenforced and traders could be seen walking openly down the city streets with these huge creatures slung over their shoulders in a bag.

These animals, when provoked, will fight back. So the poachers would cruelly break the lizard's legs and also its tail, which would have been a good defensive tool for the lizard. The Monitor Lizard also has a terrific set of teeth so the poachers would bang out its fangs.

Here is an action shot of Pradeep apprehending a poacher illegally possessing a baby Monitor Lizard. The baby lizard is hung by its neck from the stick the poacher is holding. Pradeep is in the striped shirt:

The Monitor Lizard is hunted for meat, and for the oils existing in the animals' skin which is believed to have medicinal qualities. The greatest work the VSPCA has accomplished for Monitor Lizards is to effectively shut down any market for their trade in the Visakhapatnam area, thus conserving this endangered species and preventing needless animal cruelty.

No Ordinary Cats!

2010-06-17T17:44:00.003+05:30

I know you've all been waiting for pictures of the Cats at the VSPCA and the wait is over! Jump for joy!

The VSPCA is home to many rescued cats and kittens. They have a beautiful facility built especially for them. When I was preparing to travel to India, I received many donations from my friends of toys, medicines, leashes and collars and other useful things for all the animals at the shelter.

Among these donations were dozens of colorful, handmade pockets of catnip that my friend Claudine put together for the kitties in India. Here is Sarada, the shelter manager for all the small animals of the VSPCA, getting ready to give the cats the catnip toys!

A few of the cats weren't quite sure about this...

While most were overjoyed with their new presents!!

Here is the whole group of kitties playing and roaming around with the catnip:

The afternoon before my flight to India, my friend Shelly brought by a special delivery for the cats: two long wands, approximately 3 feet long with fuzzy ends that dangle from a piece of string. As I stared at these wands and my already packed suitcase, I decided that if I curved them gently, they would fit from one corner of the large suitcase to the other. I just had to hope nobody would open the suitcase in the airport...the toys would come springing out!

Having never had much interaction with cats, I wasn't quite sure how to play with them. I discovered that it isn't very hard, even a dog person can figure it out!

At first I thought I was pretty smart and quick...

But this fellow was much quicker, here I am extracting the toy from his grasp!

These two look like they are going for a jump ball in the NBA:

These cats were primarily rescued from the city streets in Visakhapatnam as kittens. Many of the town's residents don't mind having an adult cat around the house to keep the rat population down. But if she has a litter of kittens, who meow as kittens will and demand attention, the humans will throw them away. And I do mean thrown away like garbage.

These lovely cats have been found in horrific places: in garbage cans; in bags thrown into the sewers that run alongside the streets; some even have been carried out to the beach in the city runoff and were rescued just short of drowning in the ocean. These kittens make their way to the VSPCA shelter only if some kindhearted person overhears their meowing calls for help, someone who knows these sounds shouldn't be coming from these places, and cares enough to call the VSPCA.

Sarada bottle-fed these kittens with specially-donated glass bottles from the US. These bottles had tiny little nipples so the tiny little kittens, some so small they didn't even have hair yet, could be nourished into life.

Now these cats have a wonderful life in their beautiful jungle gym home, with toys and lots of love.

They have several fully-fenced outdoor areas in addition to their inside playroom:

Check out the guy lounging in the sun behind me:

New he's joining in the fun!

Look at how this "dog-lover" was treated after spending a few hours with the cats!
Step One: Contemplating the human.

Step Two: Acceptance.

These cats love to play...

and climb...

And wrangle that furious pink monster!

VSPCA continues to rescue cats and kittens and welcome them into the shelter. The life they have here is the best and doesn't even compare to life on the street.

High Five to Everybody who gave me supplies for the Indian animals (and from the VSPCA cats and for the photos in this post of cats leaping into the air, special thanks to Claudine and Shelly!)

A face to launch hearts?

2010-06-15T08:59:00.019+05:30

On Wednesday June 9th, the VSPCA received an emergency SOS report of a dog hit by a car in town. The family who called the shelter reported that the little dog had managed to crawl across the road to their house. They took her to a local veterinarian who told them nothing could be done. This answer was not good enough and the family telephoned VSPCA.

It was only my second day at the shelter but I was invited to ride in the Animal Ambulance to pick up the little dog. I was afraid of going, afraid the animal we were picking up might be in severe distress, afraid I would be upset by what I saw; but I also knew these were selfish fears. And so I went.

Imagine my surprise when we picked up a sweet little puppy, barely 5 weeks old!

She was not bleeding, nor crying in pain. Though her back legs dangled and her spine was obviously injured, she exhibited no other signs of injury at all. She was too small to ride in one of the ambulance crates, so the shelter workers put her on my lap for the car ride. Within moments, our mutual fears subsided and she gave me sweet kisses. She seemed comfortable and very happy to be riding with us!

As I looked at her I wondered, would this be a story of tragedy? Or of joyful recovery? Is this one of those instances where all we can do is reduce suffering, rather than save the life? She showed none of these concerns. In her eyes were hope and trust. The compassion I felt for this little creature was overwhelming.

When we arrived at the VSPCA, she was whisked away to the vet’s office and I was left to wait out front with the ambulance. Here she is being carried to the operating room:

The man who does all the emergency driving for VSPCA is Srinu, pictured here proudly with one of the ambulances:

The vets immediately began a series of treatments. The primary of these is intended to stimulate the damaged nerves in her lower spine. They also began giving her vitamins, especially Vitamin B, as well as nourishing supplements to give her strength.

In the few days that have passed since her rescue, we have given her a name: Maria. She has been eating very well. I spend several hours every day with her. I give her a bath and feed her and play with her. When I come to greet her, she is so excited and wants to be picked up and loved and snuggled. I hold her close to my face and she rubs the top of her head against my hair and chin. She makes sweet little clucking noises when she sees me, the sounds of a happy puppy!

Maria is extremely curious. The vet describes her as "energetic." Here she is contemplating what to do with my orange sunglasses!

Like any normal puppy, she opts to chew on them!

Here she is looking very proud of herself!!

Maria is fascinated by all the sounds of the shelter and she enjoys looking out and seeing all the other dogs. When they come near her, she barks a very cute little bark!

It has been several days now and Maria still cannot use her hind legs. The injury to her spinal column is severe. The vet has told me that in treating approximately 30 dogs with similar injuries, only 2 have recovered (one is Jessie, whose happy story is told in a previous post: “Already in love at the VSPCA.”) Maria walks using only her front legs. She drags her lower body on the floor. One of the problems this creates is that she is bruising her back knees and the tops of her back feet because they are always dragging on the ground.

In the following pictures, Maria is figuring out what to do with a piece of bread. Her knees and feet are already showing the wounds from being dragged behind her:

She is a good eater and especially enjoys the bread broken up into her special and tasty liquid supplement:

After eating, gentle sleep...

Maria is a “special needs” animal. The VSPCA vets and staff are doing all they can for her but it is unlikely she will ever walk normally. She needs a small set of wheels for her back body and then will need a bigger set of wheels when she grows up.

She is a playful, loving little girl who embodies the work and accomplishments of the VSPCA. Even if she does not fully recover, her life is filled with kindness now. She is having healthy meals and attentive care, which is more than she would get anywhere else. Were it not for the VSPCA rescue program, she would be looking at one outcome: suffering and dying, probably on the side of the road. Now she has a chance at a joyful life. She is such a happy little girl!

Maria does need funding for her specialized care. If anyone is willing to make a donation for her recovery, please go to www.HelpAnimalsIndia.org and make a donation in her name or a general donation to help the VSPCA carry on this wonderful work.

Also, if anyone has been so moved by Maria's story and would think about adopting her, I will do what it takes to bring her home and transport her anywhere within the US or Canada. Maria would love a caring human to adopt her!! Please email me directly at: awscromwell@gmail.com.

Maria thanks you sweetly!

Buffalo Gals Won't You Come Out Tonight?

2010-06-13T07:27:00.004+05:30

Introducing George!

George (so named for George Bailey, the despair-filled, yet redeemed, main character in It's A Wonderful Life) was found lying in a road, unmoving. He had been hit by an auto, fell down and, having gone into shock, refused to get up. The VSPCA SOS team was called in to rescue George and they brought him to the shelter. For more than a week, George continued to lie down, did not move, would not eat and was terrified of anyone coming near him.

But now, many months later, he has recovered and is a happy and engaging fellow!

As I was taking pictures of him, he continued to preen and engage with me, making faces and sniffing me out with curiosity!

George is a Water Buffalo and has many friends at the VSPCA shelter, all of whom were rescued from injury or some cruel environment. At the shelter he has a terrific life in the large animal area, with both a covered area of stalls and a large back field in which to roam outside.

Pothuraju is one of George's Buffalo companions, although he is still in his early stages of recovery and was *not* so eager for me to come close and snap his photo:

A few months ago, Pothuraju's mother was walking down a road when a milk van sideswiped her, breaking both of her right legs. VSPCA came to her rescue, having no idea yet that she was pregnant, and transported her to the shelter. The very next day Pothuraju was born at the shelter! Sadly for his mother, due to the shock of her trauma, her broken legs and the birth of her boy, she died during the birth.
Having no mother to feed him, Pothuraju was bottle-fed by Ramarao, the man pictured here:

Ramarao has been at the shelter since he was a child and his parents brought him here, and has dedicated his time and love to the cows and buffalo, nursing dozens of the babies from a bottle!

Here are some of the truly happy cows that Ramarao looks after:

Rani and her daughter are particularly entertaining to all the staff because they are the cleanest cows at the shelter. Rani is pure white and keeps herself exceptionally clean:

Look how clean her feet are!!

Rani cleans herself every day and is very careful to lie down for rest only when the dirt beneath her is dry. She will not lie down in the mud! In comparison, here is what a less conscientious cow looks like (no offense intended to this guy, of course!)

Among her quirks is the fact that Rani refused to dirty herself by allowing her calf to nurse. So Ramarao had to bottle-feed her baby for her. Her daughter inherited the "neat gene" and is beautiful like her mother. She is the golden brown cow here:

Last among the cow and buffalo friends whose stories I recently heard is Baddu:

Baddu's mother was Gowari, a very smart cow owned by a caring man in town. One day, some thieves from a slaughterhouse came through town and stole Gowari and many other cows. The man, discovering that Gowari was missing, went into the street and called her name everywhere as he walked. Gowari, from inside the truck of her captors, heard her human calling her and began to call back to him, mooing and stomping her feet. The man called the VSPCA to report her theft and the shelter rescued all the cows inside the truck, saving them from illegal slaughter.

The man was so grateful that he gave Gowari to the VSPCA so that she would be safe and have a nice place to live out her days. Some time later, her daughter Baddu was born. I guess it must be very hard on cows and buffalo to give birth because Gowari also died during the birth of Baddu. But Baddu has been able to grow up with the friends of her mother who were all rescued that day by VSPCA!

Here are some of the staff of the large animal section, hard at work keeping the stalls clean:

And here I am getting to know (carefully!) some of the cows in the field!

As with all the animals at the VSPCA, each of these cows and buffalo is available for sponsorship. Please go to www.vspca.org for more information or to make a donation to assist VSPCA in continuing this terrific work. If you are interested in an animal not yet pictured on the Sponsorship page, please email me: awscromwell@gmail.com

Thanks for reading!!

It's a Dog's Life at the VSPCA

2010-06-11T08:38:00.001+05:30

The VSPCA shelter is very special in terms of the landscape and spaces for all the resident animals. The staff work very hard to keep all the areas clean. The dogs who are lucky enough to call the shelter home have free run of the acreage. There are fences and gates to add some order to the land, but the dogs come and go freely anytime a gate is opened. The only times they are in kennels is for feeding or when they are preparing or recovering from surgery.

The shelter is online at www.vspca.org and there are many more pictures there. The animals who live full-time at the shelter are all available for "Sponsorship" for $20 per month and this is an important part of fundraising for the VSPCA, which is supported entirely through donations and grants. If you would like any more information about any of the dogs pictured below, please let me know! Please also visit www.HelpAnimalsIndia.org to make a tax-deductible general contribution!

Here are some pictures I took of the happy resident dogs at the VSPCA:

This happy dog has a very good story. Her name is Muthi. She was found on a train track, her jaw was broken and mangled. With successful surgery at the VSPCA, she has a metal pin in her jaw and has made a full recovery:

Sotta has the most beautiful eyes!:

Naveen is a very happy and playful boy, like a puppy:

This beautiful girl is Rani, she has amazing coloring and loves to play. In fact, she tries to get my full attention my gently nipping at my pant-legs:

I think Yanna is the perfect demonstration of the sentiment above her:

This poor fellow was dumped at the shelter by some people who bought him from a "breeder" and who expected him to be a "Dalmatian." When it was clear that he was not a Dalmatian, they didn't want him anymore. He is looking for a home and is a perfect candidate for adoption. He is very sweet and adorable so it is no surprise that his name is Sweety!:

This smart dog is escaping the afternoon heat in a tub of cool water!!:

Brownie is watching us unload my suitcase full of goodies that I brought to the shelter from the US. My friends donated lots of items (more about all the stuff in a later blog!):

This is Teena, she enjoys this cool, quiet, shady spot near the duck sanctuary:

Leelli is an older dog and is blind, but he has a wonderful life at the shelter with all the caring staff who are careful not to startle him:

"Little" is not sure if she wants to try the chewy:

Tichy wasted no time getting into his chewy!:

I spent the whole day at the shelter on Wednesday and, among other tasks, gave dog baths to many of the resident dogs:

They were mostly very agreeable to the bathing and waited patiently for me to read the directions!:

It was a team effort as we bathed a second dog while the first one was sitting already shampooed. That's Jessie on the right hanging out with us after her bath:

This little cutie was especially fun and sticking his tongue out!:

The dogs were very happy once it was all over and they ran and played, and dried off almost immediately in the Indian heat!

Already in love at the VSPCA

2010-06-10T05:59:00.002+05:30

There are so many things going on at the VSPCA here in Vizag, India. The staff work very hard all day long, and the animals have clean spaces and lots of love and attention. Yesterday I spent the whole day at the shelter and have many stories and adventures to tell. It is hard to sit down and attempt to write about everything, so for now, I will start with my favorite little girl dog whose story captures so much of how I feel about the VSPCA. Her name is Jessie:

Somehow I missed meeting her on the first day, but on the second day she came running up to me as soon as I got out of the van. Actually she wasn't running. When she gets really excited, she scoots.

This little girl was paralyzed when she came to the shelter. Her hind legs are damaged. But Jessie is one of the luckiest dogs because at the VSPCA she learned to walk!

Here she is playing with her friends:

and resting!:

Her hind legs work very well. Her back knees seem to be where most of her injury remains so she can't bend her back legs the way a fully healthy dog can. She can sit and lie down, and then to get back up she hoists herself upright with her front legs:

And once standing, her hips work fine and she can move her back legs and run around. She's off again:

In fact she moves so fast that it is hard to take a picture in focus of her!!:

Jessie is so sweet and loving and has the happiest demeanor I have ever seen in an animal. Can you see her smiling here?:

Here she is hanging out with her buddies Namam (on the right) and Naveen (on the left).

Jessie is totally unafraid of falling down, which does happen. When she gets really excited she goes too fast and her back legs sometimes slip out to one side. But she doesn't even slow down, she just keeps going as fast as she can with her front legs. And she is fast even when she is scooting! When she has a minute, she stops and gets all the way back up again.

Of course she was one of the lucky ones yesterday to get a bath! Here we are:

Jessie's story is a very happy one. Were it not for the VSPCA, she would have suffered on the street with her injuries and would not have survived. But here, she is strong and happy. She does not even seem to know that she is different. The vets and staff have worked hard for her and she has worked hard to recover. The result is a happy happy little dog who shares her love with everyone.

India First Impressions: People, Trains, Traffic, and Animals

2010-06-06T17:15:00.002+05:30

Before I traveled to India a few days ago I had heard my friends talk about this place with varying degrees of imagery, warnings, eagerness, and despair. What I now know is that India cannot really be captured with words. I can understand why my friends speak of it with enthusiasm, often searching for the right word, usually a suitably extreme adverb, and find that none seemed to fit their memories.

As I walked down this street, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of excitement to finally be in a place unlike anything I had ever seen:

It seems to me that India is a place of extreme conditions. Though I knew that it is a country of 1.2 billion people, it is impossible, as a Westerner in general and an American in particular, to have any inkling as to what that might actually look like. To say that it is crowded does not convey a clear picture. Waiting in line to buy a train ticket yesterday from the Santa Cruz station to CST in Mumbai, there were lots of people in line, people milling about selling things, and the general hustle and bustle of a train station. I am certain that I looked confused. I also looked very non-native, being white, blonde, and several inches taller than most locals. So I was only mildly surprised when, as it became my turn at the ticket counter, a woman snuck up on my right, money in hand, to cut in front of me and buy her ticket before she had to wait behind my fumbling questions and delay in the general efficiency. She was pushy but her eyes conveyed an apologetic explanation that she simply did not want to wait behind me. In most things in India it seems that if you wait, someone will cut in front of you, whether it is at the train station, at the airport baggage claim, in a car, at a restaurant, even buying water from the local kiosk.

Here is the car I eventually got into:

And a woman enjoying the breeze (somewhat dangerously, in my opinion!) from the moving train:

Given all the people here, India does seem to be remarkably efficient. For example, there are a ton of cars here in Mumbai and traffic ought to be a mess. But in both the auto-rickshaw and a regular taxi, my driver has been able to sneak, amble, zoom, and bully his way through a seeming mess to get me to my destination surprisingly fast, often in a sea of honking. I'm not sure if these signs accomplish their goal:

Here is what the standard taxi looks like:

And this is a very tame image of driving in Mumbai: Lane lines are for sissies, I guess!

Crossing the street as a pedestrian is probably the most dangerous adventure I have undertaken thus far. Just now, on my way back from a terrific late lunch, I waited for a nice break in traffic to cross the street to my hotel. But before I was even half-way across, a car was bearing down upon me, laying on his horn the whole way. I don't think there has been a crossing yet where I have not dashed at some moment. And the rule seems to be: "Pedestrians, get out of the way!"

Here are some photographs from my first day exploring Mumbai:

I visited one tourist attraction, the Gateway to India:

Here is the inscription:

This field offered a nice change from the congestion of the city and I settled in to watch a pick-up cricket game. I did have to get up rather quickly at one point as it suddenly became clear that I was sitting in center field!

In the distance of the cricket match is a tower which turned out to belong to the University of Mumbai. I managed to snap these photos from inside the University before a guard told me no pictures were allowed. What is it with the Indians and their government buildings? At the airport they made it very clear that no pictures would be tolerated.

This awesome gargoyle was the last one I took before the guard interrupted me.

After that, I did not even question whether I might take any pictures of the High Court, which is right next to the University. (Plus, the armed military personnel out front at regular intervals dissuaded me from even pausing.)

In my wanderings I came across a Catholic church that looked pretty, so I wanted to explore it and thus very nearly crashed a wedding in progress. If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed this getaway car parked out front!

In my wanderings I have obviously been meeting lots of animals. The dogs are quite friendly and come to me when I make my go-to-move kissy noise. They put their ears back and wag their tails, grateful for the kindness and attention. More than one person has stared at me with surprise and skepticism as I greet the dogs, and I am hoping that my actions will wear off on the locals.

Here are some of the first-day-wanderings animals:

This kitty has a very nice life in a park and I caught her hissing at a crow before she lay down for the nap:

The farm animals, cows, oxen and goats, seem to have a bad go of it in the city. The cows are often tied to something on a very short rope so that they cannot turn around and can only lie down right where they are standing. And they often cannot lay their heads down because of how they are tied:

This poor fellow was standing in his own urine, so I am sure he was not looking forward to lying down:

For the dogs, there is some progress being made toward adoption of street animals, as evidenced by this sign which gave me a lot of hope:

There is also an effort at a cleaner environment, something drastically needed in India:

Overall, I must have walked miles and miles yesterday and tired myself out completely. But it gave me a chance to rest today and compile this blog post! That's all for now. Thanks for reading. Please comment or ask any questions!

Schiphol, AMS

2010-06-06T10:17:00.000+05:30

From Seattle it is about a 10 hour flight to Amsterdam and a 9-hour time change. So I left home around 1pm and arrived into Amsterdam at 8 o'clock the next morning, which was interesting since I had not slept at all (the fatigue would not catch up to me until later...)

I lived in The Netherlands for several months in 2007 but I never did fly into or out of Schiphol. So here are some pictures of this lovely airport, the Dutch generally know what they are doing when it comes to travel, organization and cleanliness. It's pretty much the exact opposite of India!

This is the plane I took from AMS to Mumbai:

It was another 9 hour flight to Mumbai and 3 more hours in time change, and I got really really tired about half-way through this second flight. I was able to snooze for maybe an hour and a half.

Once in Mumbai, the weight of the humid 90 degrees, even at 11 o'clock at night, was obvious immediately upon landing. I had to wait nearly an hour for my two bags to arrive off the carousel. The baggage claim in Mumbai was similar to a rugby match in the aggression to be right next to the conveyor belt. Though I was tempted to start explaining that it would be much easier if everyone stood a few feet back so we could all see our bags coming and then grab them easily, I knew this would be fruitless. As in Mexico, I have learned not to ask "Why?" and instead just join them!

I breezed through Immigration and Customs and managed to hire a taxi at the airport which took me to my hotel. It was about 1am at this point, two days after I had left Seattle! Despite only 90 minutes of sleep during the journey I could only muster about 5 hours of sleep that night before the super-Seattle-coffee-sensor in my brain kicked on and demanded attention. And so I arose to several cups of decent coffee and a terrific breakfast of spicy vegetarian Indian food!

I spent the entire day exploring and will post my adventures in Mumbai shortly!

Mumbai Saturday

2010-06-05T08:46:00.001+05:30

Day One India!

Here is just a short update as I explore this new city and a new country for me:

Even though I was really tired last night, it took me a while to settle in to sleep. Finally around 1:30am here in Mumbai I was able to sleep. But I awoke at 6:30am and the idea of coffee was too powerful to even think of trying to sleep more. I think I will manage to transfer myself to this new time zone almost immediately. It was bizarre when I realized that I had woken up at 6pm Seattle time and was ready to go and start my day!

The hotel is very nice and has a view of the ocean. It includes breakfast so I had a good one of hearty, spicy Indian food! Also fruit and coffee. I am able to make tea in my room so I am enjoying a cup now.

I took a short walk on the beach after breakfast ... it is indeed hot! Humid and sticky. Of course I am exceedingly comfortable. I am headed into the touristy central area of Mumbai shortly. I waited for my luggage for seemingly almost an hour. But I had no trouble whatever getting through immigration and customs.

All is going as well as I could have hoped for!

India is crazy. I'll post some pictures later.

The Sights and Signs of Mexico City

2010-04-24T03:22:00.000+05:30

Mexico City is full of color and life, mountains, cars, people, lush greenery, and at least one well-made highway. Here are the pictures from our journey west. We did not stop to look around, but captured as much as we could from the car. My favorite billboard is the car on fire!

An Open Letter to Myself

2010-04-06T23:27:00.004+05:30

The time has come that I must leave Sayulita and embark on my journey northward to Seattle. The past few days have presented apprehension and fear as I have been thinking too much about the future. I want to return here within a few months. I want to want to return here. But what if something happens in the next few months that causes me to change my plans? What if I forget how good this place is for me? What if I become stuck and unwilling to move? And so, a letter to myself.

What is it about this place?

I am happy, joyous and free here in Sayulita, Mexico. Joyous and free in particular. It’s hard to pinpoint why.

The sun, the light, the waves, all are a constant source of energy. But there is something more. I can be anonymous if I want to be. Or I can reach out and make friends pretty much immediately. I wonder if I could do that anywhere, I don't think so. There's something about this town. Maybe because everyone's like me, nobody's really from here, everyone is a tourist at some level. But it's not tourism exactly, everyone is looking for something and the ones who stay here, they're like me. Not exactly like me but they share a common pursuit.

I like that it’s a small town. I think I could really stay here, make a life here. I could surf, meet people, some will stay, some with go. I'd really like to know and make friends with all the different groups of people here. The local surfer guys, I'd like to know them but I have to get my Spanish better. I'd like to know the locals who work here. I'd like to know some of the older people. A lot of them are North Americans, who have come here for retirement; I bet some of them are really interesting.

People here are happy, and I think the ones that aren't are trying to live the lives they are used to with big houses, fancy cars, parties and lots of stuff. But the ones who live a simple life are happy. I love the Mexican culture, I really do. The people are so open, friendly.

I like the sounds: the roosters, the old trucks. I like the way the local people, they're not sure if I'm going to be okay or not. But when I say Hola! and buenas tardes, they're so friendly, their faces light up. They are open. They don't hate…us…the North Americans…they don't hate me. It’s amazing really.

I don't know, life seems manageable here. More than manageable here, it seems wonderful.

It’s hot and I certainly love the heat. I'm sweating right now. I'm very comfortable like that though. Never have to wear any real clothes. My skin is brown and healthy. My hair is a mess but I love it.

I'm afraid of leaving and I'm not sure why. I think I'm afraid of letting this place go without my being here. I'm afraid I won't be able to come back. I think what I'm even more afraid of though is for some reason, something will happen and I won't want to come back. And that I'll forget how wonderful it is here. How happy, joyous and free I truly am. And so I have to remember, I have to write it down.

And yet it's so hard to articulate, what it is about this place.

Places are significant to us as humans. I don't think I'm the same person here that I would be elsewhere. I don't think I would be the same person in New Hampshire as I would be in Manhattan. And so it’s not unreasonable to choose a place because it suits us, because it helps us become a good version of ourselves.

Sayulita certainly brings out a good version of me. The best version. I am kind and patient, very rarely in a bad mood and if I am it’s usually because I'm tired. And if I'm tired it’s probably because I've been doing so much surfing and so much living. I do get uncomfortable here, but not for long. If I am patient, the feelings of discomfort pass, and the next day, or even sooner, I am filled once again with love and joy. When my friend Shannon walks into a room, she brings light and love with her. Ever since I have known her I have wanted to be someone who brightens the lives of others the way she does. And somehow here I feel that this is possible.

I could do some good here. I could do some good beyond just this town. I think if I join up with the peacemexico group we could do really good work throughout this country. And I like that group because it isn't only dedicated for animals, so it’s very hard to attack it, because it has a broader mission. I can practice my legal work here, write a brief or two.

The dogs are happy here. They run around the yard. Carrie and Robert have never played so much as they play here. Carrie loves to rub her belly in the grass. Joe is all smiles when he runs on the sand and through the water. Robert would probably be happy anywhere, but here he loves the sun. They get to be outside. There's no snow. We don't hike but we walk. We walk on the beach and through town.

They need so little. We should take an example from them. They need so little to be happy. They need a nice place to sleep; they need food and water, and companionship, a little bit of exercise, and lighthearted love. These are all any of us needs. And yet we think we need fancy cars, big houses and stuff. And I don't think those things make anyone happy. I understand the desires to have them. I think it’s human. But once we have them, do they actually bring us anything? Do they bring us any joy? About the only material items beyond the basic necessities that might bring joy are photographs, pictures of happy times, people and animals we love. I've never really been one for wanting to give things to people and I have often given photographs instead.

I'm an experiences girl, not a stuff girl.

I love surfing. I don't ever want to forget this fact and so I am putting it in writing. All of my problems and concerns and fears simply cease to exist when I am on my Robert August surfboard on the water. Surfing. Surfing makes my problems go away. It doesn't solve them, it just removes them. Surfing is a pure source of unfiltered joy.

I caught over a dozen waves this morning, right here in Sayulita. I was the second person on the water; we were out on the dark blue waves beneath grey skies before even the sun had crested the horizon. There is a moment in surfing that I love above all the rest. It is that moment when I am on my stomach, I have been paddling for the wave, and I feel the wave picking me up. The tail of my board becomes light, as it begins to shoot forward, pushing me. The water rips past my fingers more quickly. The moment has come. I know that I am on this wave. I arch my back to keep my weight balanced on the board. My chin lifts. I press my hands down evenly, close to my ribs so as not to disturb the run of the board. All I have to do is press up and pop my feet onto the board. But it is that moment right before I plant my feet that I love the most. The board is graceful as it catches the wave, my face is close to the water, as the wave breaks to my left and is clear to my right. On a bigger or faster wave I would not have the luxury of relishing in this moment; I would have to popup fast or be tossed. But on these slower waves, I enjoy my consciousness of this moment, when I am one with the movement of the great ocean.

After months in the water, I still rank as barely an advanced beginner, at best. But I have become so much more in tune with the water, the movements of the ocean and the speed of the waves. I can recognize waves that are too big for me, waves that offer barely enough force to be caught, and waves that are perfect. This last group is awesome because I have confidence as soon as I see them forming and I am psyched to pursue them. Surfing, like many activities, requires a mental commitment. Sometimes I start to go for a wave but my heart is not really in it. I don't think I have ever caught a wave under these circumstances. But when I am able to commit fully and paddle with intention and confidence, the result is magical. Even if I catch the wave and fall off the back, I am satisfied with the attempt and I learn how to do it better next time.

I have begun to accept greater speed once I am standing up on my board. When I feel the wave changing behind me, I add more weight to my front foot and ease the board forward into higher speed. I can also now change directions, angling to the right into the clear shoulder of the right-breaking wave, tipping the board to the left to turn back into the whitewater when I get too far ahead of the breaking point.

I love the surfing. I don't ever want to forget how much I love the surfing.

All I need is my surfboard, some wax, and some sunscreen. I need Joe, Carrie and Robert to have their needs met and to be safe. And I am completely fulfilled.

How do I convince myself to come back? Just do it. Just have faith. Have faith that this place is right, and just come back.

And if all these words don't do it, maybe the picture will.

Dirty Bussy

2010-03-25T23:29:00.000+05:30

I still have hundreds more photos from Belize to sort through, but these shots of Bussy after all our Belizean adventures had been survived are some of my most favorite. Enjoy!!

Canoe Ride Carrie!!

2010-03-25T23:26:00.000+05:30

While on Caye Caulker, Carrie, the ever fearless Dachshund-Chihuahua who dutifuly follows me everywhere, got to go on a canoe ride!
Doesn't she look psyched???

We had a great time and enjoyed the breathtaking sunset. Here are the best pics from this adventure:

Departure Belize City, Arrival Caye Caulker!

2010-03-25T22:55:00.002+05:30

We left Belize City by boat to Caye Caulker:

Here is what we all looked like on board:

Joe was having a tough time surfing on the bottom of the boat so Jeff made him into a lap dog:

The view on the way in:

Arrival into Caye Caulker. We arrived after dark, here's what it looks like in daylight:

The Caribbean is such a beautiful shade of blue:

The first night's camping spot. The view from my tent in the predawn light:

The doggies were SO tired after the boat ride the night before, this is what they did most of the day:

Robert tried really hard to stay awake because he never wants to miss any action, but he's looking rather bedraggled!:

And finally he relinquished himself to the nap:

Belize in Pictures

2010-03-25T22:19:00.002+05:30

Once again, far too much time has gone by and I have about a million pictures of my traveling to share. So I will simply go back in time and begin!

At the end of January, Nick and I hightailed it toward Belize to be there in time for Jeff and Steve to arrive from Boston. Here are some of the last senales (signs) en Mexico:

And then the first ones in Belize!

As in many parts of the world, drugs are prevalent. This sign is Belize's attempt to discourage tourists from partaking:

We drove through one town on the way to Belize City and there was a detour. Here is why!:

We continued south toward Belize city and here are some of the sights. Sugar cane is a MAJOR crop in Belize:

It makes the Fanta taste yummy!! Here is a Coca-Cola products distribution center, we saw these all over:

Continuing south...we entered Belize City in short time (Belize is a short country!)

On the map, it was very easy to spot the "Airport" in the northern part of Belize City. This is the road we took to get there:

Thinking all was running along swimmingly: we had made it into Belize, we were on our way to the airport, and we were going to be right on time to pick up the friends, I was very relaxed and happy. But as we neared the "Airport," things began to look a bit suspicious:

"Where's the runway?" We could see propeller planes but, on the far side of this field there was only ocean. And nothing resembled a piece of pavement where a jet from Atlanta might land...

Indeed not! The local signage referred to this place as an "Airstrip." I returned to the map and the iPhone, googling "Belize Airport," and found that the international airport was totally on the other side of town. Lucky for us, Belize City is the size of a postage stamp and we made it there in about 15 minutes.

We arrived at the proper airport in time for Jeff and Steve, who took these fantastic pictures from the airplane:

Here is what Jeff looked like in Logan Airport!

Ha ha ha!! He looks much happier upon arrival in Belize!! I am thrilled they have arrived!!:

Here is the road away from the proper airport and into town:

Belize City is the largest city in Belize with a whopping 35,000 people:

We had our laundry done here and then we rearranged all of our packing while pulled over in front of the laundromat!

Here is Team Cromwell looking excited for the adventures to come! This is also the photo which betrayed my tattoo to my mother:

A Few Questions, Fewer Answers, and One Sincere Apology

2010-03-23T02:23:00.003+05:30

What does it mean for a life to have meaning?

What does a human life need to be worthwhile?

Why do some people accumulate large quantities of “stuff,” while others of us do our best to live as simply as possible, with few material belongings burdening us?

Is riding on the nose of my longboard a satisfying enough goal?

What if it were only one goal among others?

I have a lot of questions these days and not many answers. But I have been learning what I don’t need and don’t want. I don’t want four full sets of china. Of this small fact I am certain. Material items are no measure of what I value.

I have also learned of some things I do want. I want good relationships of all kinds, especially friendships. Yet I continue to damage friendships with much too much frequency; and the demise of a terrific friendship causes me much pain and sorrow. I want to learn to be happy with what I’ve got, the friendships I might forge, and see the value in all these connections. How many more times will I push people away, by being demanding and selfish, before I develop love, acceptance, and patience?

This post is for the surfer from Victoria. A person who lives joyously, in ways I have never before seen in one human. His purity of happiness is contagious: everyone, men and women and kids and dogs, likely all creatures who cross his path, are drawn to him. He seems to be free from the sense of self that burdens many of us. How I want that! And once again I made the mistake of trying to gain access to something I want by taking it from the person who has it.

In the past when I met people who were living a life I wanted, or were living in ways I wanted to live, with an attitude of freedom and possibility, I tried to take it from them. Not take it in a way so that they wouldn't have it anymore, but, because I was unable to create it for myself, I tried to get close enough to someone who had what I wanted so that I might be engulfed into it. Sort of take the qualities I desired by osmosis, a closeness in proximity. This doesn’t work.

Now, through so many changes: sobriety, movement, freedom, and new attitudes and outlook on life, I have created a life I love. And yet there is still more that I want. But, as I have experienced in the past, I know that it is not enough to see these things in others, try to get as close as possible to them, and in this way make their attitudes my own. No, I must cherish these people, hold on to these friendships and connections, and then work on my own evolution from the inside out.

I am addicted to romance. Again and again I imagine that I will be swept off my feet by some knight in shining armor, or, in my case, an impossibly adorable surfer guy with a hidden nerdiness. What I truly want, something real that is more than a fantasy, will take time, and patience, and acceptance. I must not be in a rush because I will only create struggle for myself and others by trying to make the world into a certain shape in a certain timeframe, which in my case is usually immediately: I want what I want and I want it now. Ahh, how the old Abigail turns up at the wrong time! The new Abigail wants to love and cherish all that she has right now: my health, my opportunities, my freedom, my Robert August surfboard, my awesome little doggies, my friends, my mom, and my sobriety. I am trying to live my life differently today.

And so, an apology. To the surfer from Victoria: I am so sorry for being selfish and self-seeking. For thinking only of myself. For wanting something different than what was offered and not being grateful for what was. I wish I could do it all over again and not screw it up. Is there anything I can do to make this right?

What is it about surfing?

2010-03-22T01:08:00.003+05:30

What is it about surfing? I don’t know yet, but right this moment I feel so good, so happy, and so full of love and I know this state comes from the four hours of surfing at Punta Burros this morning. I was catching small waves, medium size waves, waves that close out, waves that I fall off of, waves that I ride on my knees, and, every once in a while, waves that I stand up on, make turns on to stay in the clear shoulder, and ride all the way to shore. I even got stung by a jellyfish today—twice! It felt like someone was alternately dragging barbed wire across my feet and then burning them with fire. And still the feelings now are those of pure joy. Pure, clear, happy, joy.

What is it about surfing? I don’t know, but for as long as I can feel what I feel, I will keep surfing.

My handstand dream

2010-03-08T00:49:00.000+05:30

I have a particular dream sometimes, and I always wake up happy. And not only happy; I wake up with the most satisfying feeling of peace and contentment I have ever felt. In my dream, I watch my hands as they approach the earth, usually grass, but sometimes firm sand, and occasionally a wood floor, glossy and bright, just like a yoga studio. The light is a muted brightness, and the edges of my view are fuzzy, such that only my hands are truly in focus. As I observe my hands, I gently kick my legs up into the air above them. I balance. My legs and feet sway slightly, but I balance. In my dream, it is effortless. I am aware, in my dream-consciousness, that this is the first time I have been able to balance in a handstand without the necessity of a wall. I am pleased, and satisfied, as my body seems to float, straight into the air, strong and free.

In the dream, I never come down from the handstand, I hold it until my dreams take me somewhere else. But it always feels like this is the dream immediately prior to waking. I wake rested, and still so pleased. It doesn't take long for me to realize that it was only a dream, but instead of being sad that I can only do this handstand in my dream, I recognize that I want the dream.

And so I practice. One of these days, this will come true for me. And when it does, I will continue to practice, every day.

The Great Blue Hole Adventure, Belize

2010-02-19T04:47:00.007+05:30

February 4, 2010 on the very small island of Caye Caulker, Belize, the alarm went off at 4am. Dark but not quiet, a surprising amount of wind rattling and flapping the large flat palms of the tree out my window. Was it raining? No, only the wind. Fear settled deep into my stomach within a few moments of the alarm as consciousness returned. Today was the day I agreed to dive the Blue Hole. Arrgghh. Why had I signed on for this adventure?? Because my two dear friends, Jeff and Steve, visiting from Boston, wanted to do it. Left to my own, I would not have chosen this particular dive. 130 feet below the surface, 2 hours off shore, a dark hole deep into the ocean floor, and an all day commitment to this terror. Oh and did I mention it is infested with sharks because they like the deep, cool water and the Blue Hole is their favorite spot? No, I would have chosen a nice little dive, close by, with lots of gentle sea creatures and pretty coral.

Bumping around the house in the pre-dawn, making sure to pack snorkel, sunscreen, water and some food. What else? Oh hell, it’s time to go and we can’t be late this time. The boat leaves promptly at 5:30am. Jeff and Steve already out the door and me clamoring to catch up. This would be my fate for most of the day: trailing behind in body as well as spirit. The last one to arrive, the last one to have my gear ready, the last one to get on the boat, the last one in the water…but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

We set off. Here is what we looked like in the first five minutes off shore:

Sleepy and a little anxious but not uncomfortable. Not Yet.

Two hours boat ride you say? Well, alright, I agree. How bad can it be? We had taken a speed boat to reach Caye Caulker from the mainland at Belize City, it was about 45 minutes. I had no problem with the boat ride to see the manatees just the day before and that was an hour away.

Five minutes off shore, we reach the first reef that protects Caye Caulker from storms. “Hold on!” shouts our captain from above. I look around at our boatmates and our fearless (though slightly crazy) divemasters wondering innocently what he means. And then it hits me, the boat that is. Into the air, a momentary disconnect as we are suspended, and then WHAM! Rolling up the face of the next wave, airborn again, WHAM! Rocking side to side too, this little 40’ cabin cruiser and the open ocean, a match made somewhere in hell. All that wind rattling the palm trees overnight? Yup, a bit windier on the open ocean too. A LOT windier.

“Ha ha ha, only an hour and 55 minutes to go!” jokes CJ, one of the divemasters. I look at him like he is insane. Still in disbelief, I look around the boat and no one seems particularly disturbed. One girl looks uncomfortable as she clutches her boyfriend, but her face is relatively calm. I become aware of the look of panic that must be obvious on my face. Rocking left, up a wave, clearing into the air and then WHAM again, rocking right, taking on water from the side, the small side door comes unlatched and swings open, water gushes in toward the stern. I feel like I am inside a washing machine.

I now have a death grip on the seat beneath me, which is a fiberglass bench that wraps around the interior of the boat. Beneath the seat is a sharp edge, into which I grind my fingers for the next hour.

Jeff and Steve are both sitting in the very back, exposed to the elements (which consist of a lot of spray and the occasional stern flooding, as well as the direct hit of the wind), but they also have a better ride in this little boat, or so they claim. About 15 minutes into the boat ride, I have developed a pattern of flexing my legs when we go airborn and cushioning my fall back down onto the hard seat. With my hands, I grip the seat with all my might so as not to hit the roof. All in all, a pretty good workout, if only I could breathe! I look over at my friends, Jeff looks pretty calm. Since he is a boatbuilder by trade, I figure he would know if we were in danger, so I try to garner some of his calm by staring at him. Nope, not working. Still terrified. I look at Steve and he is sprawled on the floor! having been tossed there like a rag doll by the most recent wave. So much for the “better ride” being in the back. Great, just great.

The guy across from me tries to assure me that this is really quite safe, that he has been on much smaller boats in much larger waves. Right, not helping either. Then he goes back to his BOOK! I now stare at him as if HE were insane. Reading while traversing a gale storm in this cracker jack boat? Obviously can’t listen to a word he says!

Oh, what’s this now? One of the three overly-horsepowered engines is making a funny noise. “Oh, please, let the engine fail so we have to turn around” I pray silently. (When do you EVER pray for engine failure??) But no such luck, with a little tinkering the engine stops making the funny noise and we don’t even pause in our journey.

I find that I have a new empathy for my dogs whom I drag around this earth and had only days before put on a speed boat to the island. Poor Carrie! She is the most anxious, the most concerned with what is happening and how long the terror will last. I even took her by herself on a (totally unnecessary) canoe ride only two days prior! On today’s boat ride I feel captive and wholly at the mercy of others as I hold on for dear life and I understand that such is how Carrie feels much of the time in her life with me.

Suddenly, I have an idea! “CJ, are we going to go past any islands on our way to the Blue Hole?” I ask loudly enough to be heard over the roar of the engines but not so loud as to betray my fearful mind to everyone on board. “Yeah, we’ll go past Turneffe.” He tells me. “Can you let me off there? I’ll just wait and you can come back for me at the end of the day. I’ll be fine!” His look is quizzical. “I’ll still pay for the dives,” I offer at the end of my plea. “Ummm, we are not in the practice of leaving tourists on deserted islands,” he tells me with a smile, “So… no. It’ll get better once we get there,” he offers as reassurance.

Once my attempt to negotiate my way off the boat had failed, and I knew that I was stuck, I started to accept the situation with all of its elements. It had been some 20 or 30 minutes since the treacherous ride began and at least it wasn’t getting any worse. I began to chant inside my head, some of you might call it “praying.” “Relieve me of the bondage of self,” I repeated over and over to fill the space in my mind. I found the tune and most of the words to Paul McCartney’s “Blackbird,” which also gave me some peace as I hummed it, not even audibly over the motor but the action helped to quiet my heart. I was scared, but there was nothing I could do about it and at least I was with my friends! So I began to babble to Steve, who, after his fall from the seat in the back moved over towards where I was sitting and I closed the distance so that I could sit next to someone I knew.

When we reached the Turneffe islands, about half way to the Blue Hole, they provided a glorious respite from the beating ocean swells.

Focusing on breathing, I was even able to look about and take in the scenery. This was a big change!!

This is what Steve looked like as he pointed excitedly to a silvery flying fish!

Next we glimpsed a pod of dolphins dancing through the waves. Moving calmly through the islands gave me the rest I needed to prepare for our reentry into the open ocean. It did not get any worse that the previous leg of the journey and an hour later we arrived at our destination.

The Great Blue Hole:

Not much to look at from above!

Unlike training dives where the instructors lead you by the hand every step of the way and make sure you are comfortable, here it was: “Put on your gear, perform your checks, do your buoyancy test, and meet over here by the bow of the boat.” I was dawdling, wanting to be at the back of the pack, closest to the divemasters who would bring up the rear. As such, I was the last off the boat, hastily swallowing a spoonful of peanut butter to reinforce my physical body, whilst my friends were getting ready to go.

The big step off the boat, in full SCUBA gear is really fun. With the tank on the back, you have to step way off the boat or you will hit the gunwale and the tank will smack you in the back of the head. I take this big step and, despite the weight of the tank and my weightbelt, I am buoyant with my BCD, have my snorkel on and am able to breath through my regulator. I go through my checks, hurrying more than I would like because I am the last, but at least I do not have much time to think about the dive itself. The air flow is easy, my weight and buoyancy seem manageable, my mask is fog-free. I swim around to the bow just in time to hear the divemaster leader say, “Let’s go down!”

My heart begins to really race and I feel it pounding in my chest. Everyone is below the surface and I have to go too. No sense staying up here by myself. I empty my BCD and begin to slowly descend.

Thirty feet below the surface I look up and see clearly the outline of the boat through the clear green-blue water. All the bubbles released from the divers beneath me careen up toward the surface. I think, “I should just bail out now, go back up, and from this depth I won’t even have to do a safety stop.” But as I consider this wimpy idea, I take no action and thus continue to descend.

Below me: getting darker, and narrower. All the other divers are below me, ahead of me. I have to catch up because to be alone is not a safe option. The next thing that hits me is the COLD. No one mentioned this! The water must have dropped 20 or 30 degrees in a matter of inches. And it was a lot darker, a deep blue. I can still see but not very far.

I float, continuously deeper, trying not to shiver from the shock of the cold and the insurmountable fear. Below me, I make out an outline, “Is that a shark?” It s a very large sea animal but I cannot make out if it is a shark or not. Honestly, the marginal increase in my state of worry is not much at this sighting. I rationalize that a shark, or a large fish, which was at least 20 feet away and not paying me the slightest bit of attention, was not a significant problem. (Note: This turned out not to be a shark. However, a large white shark WAS spotted on this dive by CJ, who caught it on film with his underwater digital recorder.)

The next time I look at my depth gauge, it reads 100 feet. OMG! My breathing, having slowed to a good pace momentarily, is fast again. I have never been this deep. I am acutely aware that if something goes wrong at this depth, and if I am not very near to another diver, preferably a divemaster, I will die. To my left, and about 10 feet below me, I make out the silver shortie wetsuit of Greg, the most friendly, happy and capable divemaster in our troupe. Here is a picture of Greg looking as he usually does!:

He looks at me and gives the signal to ask if I am okay. I answer with the signal to signify “more or less.” I also give him the okay signal because I am not having a problem yet, just a lot of fear!

The best way I can explain this fear is to say that it was a fear of fear. My gear was working, I was not having any cramps, I was able to equalize my ears as I descended. Other than being cold, everything was physically fine. But I was afraid that I would become afraid and not be able to stop myself from doing stupid. I have been a certified SCUBA diver since 2005 and I have always felt that it is a very safe activity. I believe that the only way to hurt yourself is to freak out and do something stupid. Like ascend too quickly (which causes the bends), or see a shark, panic and flap around so as to ensure the shark sees you and decides to check you out. As long as I keep breathing, remain physically calm, and stay with the other divers, nothing much can go wrong.

But right before we began this dive, the divemaster leader gave a little speech. In it he included something that went like this: “Now when you go this deep, sometimes you can go a little funny in the head. So try to ask for help from one of us before you, say, take your regulator out of your mouth and try to offer air to a passing fishie!” Everyone on board laughed, but I turned to Steve and whispered, “Jeez, SCUBA humor is about as funny as pilot humor.” And this little “joke” came right to the surface of my consciousness as I found myself at 100 feet and still dropping. What if I lose my ability to be sensible?

I see Greg swimming over to me right away. I point at my head, I’m quite certain that the look in my eyes conveyed the rest: fear. Greg takes a firm hold of my right arm, between my elbow and shoulder, with both of his hands, just as you might support an old lady across a street. I feel better right away. If I take my regulator out of my mouth, he will see me and stop me! It is such a comfort! My breathing slows, becoming deeper and more gratifying.

I look at my gauge again and see that we are nearing 130 feet. Up ahead I can see my friends and boatmates swimming happily in and out of the majestic stalactites that make this dive so unique. I look up: the rock outcroppings resemble a gothic church, gargoyles extending from stone walls into a twilight night. It is beautiful!

CJ swims towards up with his camera rolling, and what do I do? With Greg still clutching my right arm, I find I have a sense of glee and I begin to wave at the camera with my left hand. Like a kid on a ferris wheel, “Look at me!” 130 feet below the surface, smiling and waving! Next I turn to Greg, give the okay and he lets me go. I swim over with ease to the other divers and am pleasantly surprised when I catch up with Jeff, who is right behind the leading divemaster. I did not go under any of the stalactites, but I swam close to them and enjoyed watching my friends floatily zigzagging around them.

Having spent about 6 minutes of this dive in a personal mini-meltdown, I was able to enjoy the last 2 minutes of this 8-minute bottom-time dive. And then, it was time to ascend. Ahhh, we climbed. The light getting closer, brighter, and the water all at once warmer.

And so I survived the Great Blue Hole dive in Belize. I don’t think I will be afraid to dive again. We had watermelon on board and I am intently focused on it!

We did one more dive and then stopped for lunch at an island. I clutched my plate and stumbled, gratefully, onto the warm sand. I pulled out my iPhone, laid it down on the towel next to my head, and listened to Blackbird. I was calm and warm and on solid ground.

Steve said, "Oh your hair is looking wild again!" and then he took this picture:

Jeff and Steve went off on a little walk and took these pictures. I think the photos of Jeff wandering around this desert island in his WETSUIT are hilarious!

This one is my personal favorite!! (What is he thinking? "Just goin' on a hike, in my wetsuit, gotta be prepared! Ooh look, a birdie!")

We did one more dive (where we had a special treat of a turtle!) and then prepared to head for home. Now all I had to do was hold onto this boat for two hours and I would live to tell this story!

Starting out this return journey, I am in the back of the boat, in the sun but also close to the roaring motors. The ride is indeed smoother and I have the idea to improve my position further by sitting down on the floor just in front of me, in the well of the boat. I ask permission and then basically dive onto my hands and knees with about as much grace as you might imagine a 5’10’’ girl can muster on a bouncing, slippery boat. Some friendly laughter as I took my place in what I believe was definitely the best seat in the house.

The sun in the afternoon has a clear shot to me, I am largely protected form the breeze and the spray. I watch the whitewash extend from behind the boat as we rock side to side. The gunwales dipping but I find I am able to stay upright, vertical, by allowing my lower body to rock with the boat, my stomach remains calm, and my body is not disturbed. I am like a compass, no matter how much you jiggle me, I am still facing up.

Suddenly a lot of commotion and the captain cuts the engine! What now to disturb my afternoon reverie? A Whale!! In all my thirty-two years on this wild earth I had never seen a whale. We circled around and watched this beautiful creature, a Humpback, take some air and dive below. After this fun sighting, we all settled back in and continued.

Jeff decides, or perhaps gives himself over, to take a nap. “What did you do on your birthday?” “I stuck out my bottom lip and fell asleep!”

(Yes, it was Jeff’s birthday. Early in our journey I remember thinking, “If it was my birthday today, I would have cried before 7am.”) Instead, I laugh! How freeing to laugh out loud! I can feel the muscles in my stomach, tired from so much tension and strain during the morning, release and melt.

And Steve laughs too!

When I am not laughing, here is my view for most of the journey home:

As I sit and look at the ocean, I begin to contemplate.

The ocean is a higher power for me.
Always stronger and more powerful.
Fighting is useless.
But it continues to invite me.
To enjoy it. To ride it. To explore its breadth and color and life.
I must remember that the ocean is in charge, not me.
I cannot enter the ocean on my terms, always on the ocean’s terms.
But if I do so with respect for its power and all it has to offer, I will be given so many rewards and adventures and pleasures.
I accept the ocean for its power and majesty. I do not seek to alter the ocean in any way (although I did pluck a floating plastic bag out of its depths during one of the dives). I want to explore and have fun in the vast ocean being ever mindful that the ocean is in charge, not me.

Some might be able to replace the word “ocean” in the foregoing with “life” or even “God.” For me, the way I have written this is the most precise and articulate that I am able to be. I am and always have been a water girl. It is fitting that I should come to the understanding of acceptance in this way.

“Oh great ocean
Oh great sea
Run to the ocean
Run to the sea.”
-Bono (Exit, Joshua Tree)

Contempt prior to examination

2010-02-11T21:15:00.000+05:30

“There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance—that principle is contempt prior to examination.”

—Herbert Spencer

How often do we judge something—a place, a people, artwork—without actually having encountered it? Too often. I had all kinds of fears about driving around in Mexico. I was afraid of the police, the military, the border agents, other drivers, the banditos, impassable roads; I was afraid of seeing poverty, hungry people, starving animals. These fears at times filled my imagination and left no room to imagine all the beauty that this place might offer.

In Mexico, I have seen people living in shacks constructed of corrugated metal, sometimes concrete, with holes left open for windows, people sitting in their front yards which are mostly dirt sipping Coca-Cola, and I have seen that people here find ways to make it work wherever they are. I have felt the hand-made dresses and blankets that are beautiful and soft. I have bought coconut empanadas from a young boy whose mother makes them by hand every day and he walks around town selling them from a bucket. Embarking on this journey has opened my eyes, not only about Mexico but all places. I would love to go to Iraq: sure, it’s a war-torn country, but it is bound to be breathtakingly beautiful and so different from other places, especially anywhere in the US. I’ve wanted to go to Sierra Leone for years, to see the scars but also to look for what hope might exist there.

Sometimes we even form positive judgment before we should: I decided at age 26 that San Francisco was the place for me. Had I been there? Of course not. But I had grown up in Boston and wanted to move west. Having already tried out San Diego and Seattle, I decided that San Francisco would have what I wanted. Lucky for me, I did visit prior to moving, prior to accepting at a local law school, and I decided I had been wrong about the place.

This happens to me often with books too. I tried to read Faulkner in college, the assigned book was Absalom, Absalom, and it was so difficult that I gave up and decided Faulkner was not for me. But does that really mean that nothing this writer ever created would appeal to me? What if we take this further and lump an entire category of American writers together and reject the whole lot? “Well, I struggled with Faulkner so I’m not going to read Henry James either.” That sort of thing. Or maybe this: Honduras seems dangerous these days, so I’m going to avoid all of Central America. This last one was nearly true for me, I’m ashamed to admit. Honduras is indeed having some political unrest these days, and I would have had to pass through it to find my way beyond; and in the end, for this reason and a few others, I decided to remain north of that particular border thus missing out on Nicaragua, Panama, and others that I yearn to explore.

Maybe some of you are thinking, “That isn’t contempt prior to examination, that is just plain practical.” And that is true, but many people find their personal limits much short of this. Fears prevent us from venturing beyond what is known and comfortable.

So, what to do about all of this? I have had occasion in the past 24 hours to contemplate what it means to have an open mind. One fellow traveler pointed out an important distinction: if an “open mind” seems too impossible, too static, or too demanding, how about simply striving for an “opening mind.” It is difficult to be open, and we ought to forgive ourselves for our preconceived notions, but equally important, we must be willing to toss out these notions as soon as we see their flaws. We must be willing to change our minds.

It isn’t a question of being wrong in the first place, but what we expect to see or feel is so very often different from what we end up seeing and feeling. We must give up on what we expected and accept what is.

Travels through Colima, Michoacan, Oaxaca and Chiapas

2010-02-10T10:26:00.000+05:30

I have been extremely delinquent in posting anything about my adventures of late! On January 19, Bussy, et al, departed Sayulita for points East, namely Belize, where we were to meet my two wonderful friends, Jeff and Steve, who were flying in from Boston. More about Belize adventures later!!

For now, here is an assortment of pictures from the trip across the vast and beautiful Mexican coast and countryside.

This one was a lovely camping spot in San Juan de Lima, where we spent a couple of days enjoying our own three-kilometer beach stretching out in either direction.

Random picture of Robert looking more angelic than he deserves!

Carrie looking happy in the van!

We were very entertained by these funny taxis: front and back!

After driving along the Mexican 200 for EVER, we turned north in a port town called Arriaga. From there we headed up into the mountains in Chiapas, toward San Cristobal and the ruins of Palanque. San Cristobal is a lovely old Spanish colonial city. Here are some pictures taken from the largest church at the top of the hill in the city.

Fanta Strawberry is officially the greatest beverage on earth

Baby goats are just about the cutest creatures ever!!

Ummm, this water bottle looks like a nice pillow?!

Another Mini sighting! This was in Tustla Gutierrez, before our ascent toward San Cristobal but the plate is from the D.F., Mexico City. During this day, we saw three more Minis! Chiapas is billed as the poorest state in Mexico but the Mini count seems to contradict that premise.

From the sea level city of Tuxtla Gutierrez, we began a long ascent up to an elevation of 6000 feet in San Cristobal. The view was amazing.

Have you heard about driving in Mexico? Wow, this "two-lane" road was frequently four cars abreast!

City Center, San Cristobal

Fog!! This glorious site was coming down the northeast side of San Cristobal. As much as I love Mexico and the sunshine, it was a nice respite and comfort to have a foggy day.