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.

Can a Chihuahua-Dachshund from Long Beach California surf??

2010-02-10T08:57:00.000+05:30

Ummm....Carrie was not, apparently, taught this particular skill at the shelter...

Surfing Pics!! (finally)

2010-01-19T21:43:00.000+05:30

Sick

2010-01-18T01:44:00.000+05:30

Well, it finally happened. First Nicholas and then me. The dreaded yet somehow inevitable, "if you go to Mexico you'll get sick" event. It began on Monday night for Nicholas. The most puzzling thing is that I did not succumb until Thursday afternoon, and was in fact entirely strong and healthy for several days while he lay suffering.

The cause of our misery will probably remain undiscovered. We ate the same dinner together on Monday night, neither of us has consumed any local unpurified water, and we have been very careful with our dishes, toothbrushes, etc. Yet I do think it is inevitable. Nearly everyone who has moved here or has spent a significant time here has a story of it: the body's purge.

And it isn't like ordinary food poisoning where you suffer for 24 hours and then its over. I was acutely ill for a solid forty-eight hours, beginning Thursday afternoon and lifting sometime Saturday afternoon. And even now, Sunday, I am not exactly strong and happy. Re-introducing food is hard on the body when it has emptied itself and remained empty for 2 days.

One of the hardest factors was that I was forced to forgo my nornal pot of coffee in the morning for two mornings in a row! So I was grouchy and lethargic in addition to being weak and nauseous. In other words, don't you all just wish you were here to join in the fun!

Nicholas' recovery was even longer, he fell ill on Monday night and was only really eating again Saturday, when I watched him eat two avocados and a seemingly entire loaf of bread (which was awfully challenging in my state of not-quite-recovery!) But it was a very good sign that we was finally getting his strength and appetite back. After he did that, he said "I'm still hungry!!" I said "Groan!"

The great news is that the dogs don't have whatever it was that we humans had. Carrie was very worried and anxious for me as I lay unmoving in the van for 36 hours, and she basically refused to eat for the same period of time (perhaps she just wanted to commiserate!) But Robert and Joe ate like champions and show no signs of illness. Carrie is tired after all that worry so I took her to the beach yesterday afternoon in an effort to show her that all was going to be okay. She seemed skeptical but relieved too.

After I walked the dogs for a little while, I laid my towel down on the sand, with a cool breeze and partial shade, and lay down where I could see the ocean. I felt the warm sand beneath my tired body as I rested and it occurred to me that I have always feared getting sick when away from home. But really, of all the times that I have been sick, this has to be one of the best locations. When the first pangs of stomach pain were hitting me on Thursday night, I pulled my mattress out of the van and lay down staring up at the palm trees. Darkness was falling, Nicholas knew what was happening to me to he took care of the dogs, their dinner and walks, and he also prepared the van for me to sleep in (we had both been sleeping in our tents closer the ocean). I continued to lie there (pretty much groaning and eventually getting sick in the bushes) as darkness fell, and, despite the onset of this illness, I was enjoying my surroundings. I don't have a picture of the palms with the stars in the night sky, but here is one from the daytime:

I lay there and watched the palms swaying gently and heard the birds singing and I was warm and my world was okay in the ways that really mattered. As darkness fell, the stars came out brilliantly and clearly. As my body began to purge itself of everything, I remained conscious of this place and its wild beauty and continued to be grateful that this was a temporary fate, that it would pass, and that I was nearly always healthy and happy. There have been days, many days sadly, when this was not the case. But those days are behind me and I will accept an occasional case of food poisoning, or whatever this was, if only to remember how miserable it is to feel that way.

Here are some more pictures of Sayulita and our magical campground:

We now have piles of laundry, not much food, lots of Gatorade and water, and no pictures yet of the two of us surfing! (I assure you, we really really have both been surfing! Many times in fact!)

We are planning on leaving Tuesday, destination Belize, in order to meet the wonderful friends Jeff and Steve who will meet us there for SCUBA and fun. If we leave on Tuesday the 19th we will have 10 days to reach Belize by the time the guys arrive from Boston. In the meantime, we are continuing to recover, eat, drink, and will be prioritizing surfing pictures before we depart this wonderful surf spot!

Hasta luego amigos!!!

Ha ha ha!!

2010-01-14T01:16:00.000+05:30

This may be as close as Robert will ever get to surfing (but not me!)

New Year, New Adventures

2010-01-14T01:04:00.000+05:30

I have been derelict in my posting of late... Sayulita is such a wonderful place and I have been busy enjoying the living here. The people are outgoing, many speak English but I am able to practice my Spanish often. A big swell came in on Saturday night, January 10th or so, and the waves have been BIG ever since. Too big for me in fact, though I have been able to stand up on the whitewash at the end of the beach where the waves are the smallest.

Looking back at some photos of the trip, I remember the tranquil beach where we spent the new year.

North of Mazatlan we discovered a small beach called Marmol, I already wrote about it in a previous post, about our difficulties there in getting to the surf spot. Here are some pictures of the roads we found to get out there:

The town of Marmol was small and very pretty. Unlike some places in Mexico, it was very clean with little garbage littering the streets.

Here are some images from Marmol towncenter:

The beach where we camped (which is different from the location of our terrible surfing attempt!) was so beautiful. On approach, the land just opens up to the sea, the cliffs rise out of the water on the right, and to the left the beach stretches out as far as you can see, with the shapes of Mazatlan barely visible in the distance.

Joe, Carrie, Robert and I enjoyed many walks on this beautiful beach during low tide (when the tide was high, the beach was totally underwater and the only dry land were small rocks.

In the evening, we had some visitors migrate past our camping spot. Other than these folks, we had the place all to ourselves for several days of peace and quiet (except of course, for the ever speaking sea!)

We spent the new year and several days before and after in this lovely spot, basically until we ran out of drinking water. Here are a few more reasons why!

Hasta luego amigos!!

Chacala and the first few days in Sayulita

2010-01-06T23:42:00.000+05:30

Hola from warm, humid, sunny Mexico!

The last few days have seen lots of great times. We are in Sayulita, a wonderful little town which was my first introduction to Mexico nearly a year ago. I fell in love with it and it is now my third time here within 12 months. I can surf right here and we are staying in an oceanfront campground right in town. The dogs are enjoying walks on the beach in the morning, followed by a graceful and lazy breakfast:

Here is a picture taken from the north end of the beach in the evening light, looking back towards town:

Joe is a bit warm, but he enjoys the walks in the morning before it is too hot. Carrie and Robert love it all day long. Here is a picture of Robert sleeping one morning with the light just entering the van:

I am pleased to report that I have been able to plant my two feet on my Robert August board! The wax is nice and grippy, the board is forgiving and terrific. Now all I need to do is catch the right wave at the right time and I think my chances are good for staying on my feet for more than a few moments!

Before we came to Sayulita we stopped for the night in a very small town just north of here called Chacala. We got there just before dark and parked beneath coconut palms, being careful to place the van where it would not get beamed my a falling coconut in the night!
Here is a picture taken the next morning of our spot:

I enjoyed a calm walk around town and saw some really beautiful homes and the local little church. Here are pictures of the beautiful little church:
From the outside, front:

And inside:

A lizard on the outside of the stained glass window!

The creche left over from Christmas:

I continued walking, saw some pretty homes:

This piece of property has a breathtaking view, but I couldn't see past the lovely gate!

Here are some pics from just walking around town:

The people were all really friendly and nice. I saw these baby chicks with their mama near the church:

And here is a colorful path I took...:

...back to the beach:

Check out the bird caught mid flight by my iPhone!! Wow.

Lovely little town if you are ever just looking to hang.

Adventures in Marmol!

2010-01-03T00:09:00.003+05:30

So many adventures in the last few days, I’ll start with the most recent. We spent the first day of the New Year on a quest for a good surfing spot. I have a pocket size book on surfing Mainland Mexico (also the same book covering surfing Central America). In the Mazatlan area, a spot called Marmol is listed as an all levels, all year round spot just north of the city. The pocket book just says: Exit the freeway, go through Marmol and you’re there!

Well let’s look at that. First of all, “exit.” The freeway, which by the way, isn’t free, it’s a “cuota” road costing about US$4 per 50 miles, doesn’t have on or off ramps for the minor towns. My iPhone offers a GPS so I could watch our progress on the freeway and I could see easily that we were missing Marmol. We could see overpasses, small, one-lane bridges over the freeway but we could see no clear way of getting on any of them. Finally, as the last possibility to Marmol approached, we hit the brakes and made a hard right turn onto gravel immediately from the freeway. We went up and over some train tracks, and continued west. I could see the road we drove on the map, so I wasn’t without hope of reaching the shore.

As this road narrowed, became more and more holes and dips and rocks and trees, my hope dwindled. Finally, we were driving between two fields and some workers yelled out to us, “Stop, hay un rio!” Ahh, a river, wonderful. “Donde esta la playa?” I asked. Most of the response was too fast for me to understand but we deduced that we needed to turn around, drive back north a ways and then head west. Gracias.

We turned around, bounced our way back to the highway and crossed it, heading to a town we hoped would be Marmol. When we got there, there was no way out to the west, we were not in Marmol, but a nice man came running up to us and asked us, in English!, what we were looking for.

As we chatted with him, a rooster popped up on our hood and pecked around near the wipers. I was like, um, there’s a rooster on the car. OMG. Hahaha!

We told him we were looking for the Marmol beach and he gave us pretty good directions. Get back on the freeway and take the exit about 5 km north. We were off again (the rooster had departed our vehicle!) The exit we were now looking for should be right before the toll booth. We drove, we could see the overpass we wanted, we could see the toll booth. And yet, ahhh, we drove right past the “exit” again! A quick u-turn, yes on the highway, we did it near the toll both so that all vehicles were going slowly and it was safe, and we found the exit.

A decent dirt road, some cobblestones, and even a little pavement found us shortly in Marmol, then finally at the beach! So beautiful! This area is totally undeveloped, no houses, no billboards, no electrical wires.

We camped out here for two nights and then, on January 1, decided to pursue the surfing. The surf area is a little ways up the beach and around a rock outcropping from our camp spot. We had gone out there on the first day during low tide but decided not to surf. By day 3, we were surfing determined. We headed out as the high tide was retreating. Ahh, interesting, the last part of the road that is accessible and firm during low tide was 4 feet deep in water in the morning high tide. So we chatted with three local guys carrying fishing gear and decided we could park on a high part of the road and walk the last part to the beach.

Challenge Number 1: a pack of 6 or 7 lazy-looking but nonetheless potential trouble-causing dogs lay between us and the only walking path to the beach. Nicholas and I worked out a plan where I would carry Robert and Carrie, Nick would walk with us, and I would leave him with them on the far side of the walking bridge. This we accomplished with not so much as a sideways look from the local dogs. I returned for Joe. Unable, or at least unwilling, to carry his 80 pound frame 50 yards, I simply walked him as quickly and quietly toward the bridge. Not quickly nor quietly enough. The dogs began barking and following us. Ahh, heart racing. I yelled at the dogs which some of them respected but a couple continued to follow me and Joe.

These local dogs are feral, mostly unneutered and unspayed, almost certainly unvaccinated, and possibly not nice. I’m of course an animal lover, but I will defend my little family with all the force at my command if necessary. One tool I have on this trip that is new to me was donated to the Cause of Cromwell Safety by my mom: several pocket size containers of mace. I have one of these, along with a pocket knife, attached to my keys and, as I walked with Joe, I began to fumble with my backpack to retrieve the key chain. Undecided as to whether it was best to keep moving or thus arm myself, I finally stopped for a moment to get my hands on the mace and then kept going. Finally, without the use of any weapons, we got the dogs to back off and the Cromwell’s were across the bridge and on our way to the beach. The pack of dogs did not seem interested enough to pursue us. But, nerves were high among all of us, to say the least. Nicholas asked me: Do you still want to surf? Well, there wasn’t any going back to the car at this point, so yes, I did want to surf. We may as well wait until low tide when we can pull the van closer and make our escape more easily. So he went back for the surfboard and we proceeded!

Challenge Number 2: Nicholas was less enthused on the surfing than I was, so he stayed on land with the dogs while I ventured out. The waves were not big but they were messy and unsurfable. After bouncing around for a while on my brand new Robert August Nine Foot “What I Ride” longboard, which I love!, I went back in.

Then began our exit from this locale. Challenge number 3: The tide was decidedly lower, though not all the way down, and we could walk out on the other side away from the pack of dogs. When I say “walk out” I don’t mean without getting our feet wet. We had to ford a stream that was about 3 feet deep! But it was much safer an exit than our entrance had been. The funniest part of all of this had to be when Nicholas took off his pants, donned the backpack, and set off through the stream, with all the seriousness at his command, in his underpants! He was off to bring the van around closer. I did not attempt to stop my laughter, a welcome release after the tension of the morning! When he returned, he carried Robert and a wriggling Carrie while I hoisted the I-can’t-swim-because-I’m-a-greyhound-Joe, and off we went across the stream. I had thought we were through the deepest part of it and set Joe down where he was up to his elbows, only to discover, and witness his panic, that we had deeper yet to go. Poor Joe, he really was afraid and I was unable to help him other than to guide him to the other side by his leash while he flailed.

And so distraught, the little family made it back to the van. We sat for a few minutes had some water and a snack, and then departed for a hopefully easier future.

We went back through the outskirts of Mazatlan, hit a Walmart (Yes, I am shopping at Walmart. Hell has officially frozen over. But they are the only store we have found in Mexico, and we have tried them all, which sells tofu), and loaded up on water and other staples. Nicholas picked out a nice, quiet beachfront campground in the small town of Teacapan, where I am now drafting this blog post from beneath a thatch roof, on a balcony overlooking the beach while the dogs nap peacefully. As a special treat for myself today, I am on my second pot of coffee! Calm has returned!

Working at Mazatlan Starbucks!

2009-12-31T02:44:00.000+05:30

I ran across the Mazatlan Starbucks on my way to a meeting last night. Here's a quick picture. We returned today after surfing attempt #1 and did the blogging from here! These are live action photos of me working right now!!

Huatabampito sunset

2009-12-31T02:36:00.000+05:30

We spent a Saturday night at a lovely, tiny beach town south of Huatabampo, called Huatabampito. Here are some pictures from this adventure! I caught the sun descending into the water anf just kept clicking!

Photos from Mexico travels!

2009-12-31T02:29:00.000+05:30

Many days have passed since my last update...apologies!
Here are some pictures of Joe, Carrie and Robert to start off. They are definitely getting their beach legs!

We have traveled through some beautiful countryside between Bahia Kino, then to Huatabambito and now to Mazatlan. Here are some pictures of our travels:

The highway is so well made. It is better than most highways in the US!

I'm having a difficult internet connection so I'll get this post uploaded and then do another separately!

Bahia Kino and wonderings

2009-12-26T08:29:00.000+05:30

     The problem with finding a perfectly magical spot right off the bat is that you expect everything thereafter to be magical and perfect and easy too. Bahia Kino may be like that for us on this trip. We pulled in, backed up to the beach, got out, and were peaceful and happy. Just like that. I walked the dogs and they were so happy. Robert in particular kept turning his head on that first walk to look back with a look that said, "Really? After all that driving, a week in the car, you really brought me here?! This is so awesome!" It was like he couldn't believe I was so creative.

     After pulling in on the night we crossed the border, we spent the following entire day in Bahia Kino just resting. Nicholas wandered into the town area while I alternately sat or laid on the beach with the dogs and a book. The weather was great, I could do with even more heat but it is good for Joe to be able to acclimate slowly. Being black, he gets hotter more quickly than the rest of us. Robert loved the sun as much as I did and he stayed with me on the beach all day, even after Joe and Carrie retired to the van for their afternoon nap in the shade.

     There wasn't much going on in Bahia Kino though, so we didn't stay for another day of relaxation in the sun. I think I may look at these pictures and wonder why not:

Dec. 22--First day Mexico!

2009-12-26T08:08:00.000+05:30

We had a destination in mind for our first campground, a small town called Magdalena. But when we got there, we could not find the campground, and the town was very small, inland, dusty, and generally not offering what we hoped for. We had gotten an early start that morning in Tucson, so we decided to drive further to a coastal town on the Gulf of California called Bahia Kino (Kino Bay). We did, however, stop and walk the dogs in a town called San Miguel de Allende. It was the first time for Joe, Carrie and Robert to set foot on Mexican soil and they were happy and also, apparently, attention-getting! These two girls stopped and asked me something, they were pointing at Joe and smiling. Another small boy with his father were also enthralled with the dogs. I don't know why, there are loads of dogs in Mexico, most in need of a nice home and some food. But maybe because Joe is a racing dog, or because Carrie and Robert have such cute red harnesses, or maybe just because they all just look so well-loved and pretty!
Anyway, here is a picture Nicholas took from the van:

We piled back in the van and continued to drive to the coast. Here is what the dogs look like most of the time when we are driving:

We got to Bahia Kino a little while before dark (one of our hard and fast rules is never to drive in Mexico after dark, on this all the guidebooks agree). We had several campgrounds from which to choose and drove past one, the second looked pretty darn good, and the third, which was the one I expected to be the best was crowded and uninviting. We turned around the choice number 2 and were the only inhabitants and this beachfront wonder:

Here is one I took with my iPhone the next morning. This place was just breathtaking:

Dec. 22--Crossing the border

2009-12-26T07:47:00.002+05:30

We spent a final USA night on December 21 in Tucson in Catalina campground, the same one where we had stayed the night before. It is northwest Tucson and quiet and comfortable. From there, we drove through Tucson on Hwy 77 which led us eventually to Interstate 10. Just a few days later, this Interstate between Tucson and Phoenix had such high winds that a dust-storm formed and caused a serious pileup. Luckily, we were headed the other way and encountered no such disaster.
From I-10, we split off and took Hwy 19 to Nogales. I selected this border crossing because it is very high volume, was recommended in my book on Camping Mexico in an RV, and has a major Mexican highway leading from it down the west mainland coast.
As we left I-10, a few interesting things happened. First, the mileposts converted to Kilometers almost immediately. The exit numbers corresponded to these kilometers as well. Second, the road was nearly completely void of all business, advertisements, basically anything familiarly American. It felt like Mexico already. We even saw some border agents hanging around one of the exits we took insearch of gas, a place to walk the dogs one last time, and a driver-passenger switch.

This was the only sign of life at this exit: a rather deserted US Post Office:

We ended up finding a last Chevron a few kilometers later and completing these tasks.

Nerves were high for both me and Nicholas as we approached the border. I had done a ton of work in the past two months to prepare for this: New car insurance, special vaccines and meds for the dogs and for me, all the work on Bussy, lots of maps and planning. I also brought with me lots of necessary documents for the border crossing. I had spoken to the USDA on several occasions to make sure the dogs were properly documented, I spoke to several car insurance companies about driving in Mexico and I had consulted lots of books offering advice, travel tips, warnings, and also encouragements. All in all, I was READY.

When we got to Nogales, a mere 65 miles south of Tucson, this is what we saw:

We followed these very clear signs, following all sorts of american license plates, trucks, RV's, basically the same mush of cars you'd see at any ferry terminal in Washington. When it was our turn at the toll booth crossing, there were 4 or 5 men dressed in dark uniforms, some of them had black neck-warmer type things partially hiding their faces, which was weird and a little scary, It also made it hard to understand the man when he spoke. All he asked was: "Do you have more than $10,000 with you?" We said no and that was it. The dogs did not bark, no one asked for any papers, passports, nothing. We drove on!

Next to encounter was the checkpoint where we had to stop to buy the vehicle permit. Here, Nicholas was able to stay in the car with the dogs and I went in to take care of this. I waited in one line, filled out an immigration card similar to the cards on the airplane, then went to the booth operated by the national bank of some sort and presented my registration, driver's license, and passport. She asked me if I had Mexican insurance and I was prompt with saying yes and providing her the papers. She sort fo laughed at my over-preparedness and said she didn't need to see it. She stamped everything and gave me the permit, which is taped onto the windshield next to the rear view mirror.

And then we just drove. We saw beautiful countryside and after another hour, we became more calm and relaxed. Here is what the land looked like:

December 19 and 20—Yuma, The Physics of the Pop Top, and Home Depot

2009-12-25T22:58:00.000+05:30

At the Go Westy van shop, in addition to having the lift and level, I also had them install a roof rack. This is drilled directly into the pop top using tracks which serve to spread out the load along their length rather than bolting into only four spots. That first night after the rack was installed, the pop top felt a lot heavier and was disinclined to stay “popped” initially. With some persuasion, I managed to make it stay up for the night.

Let me explain a bit about Campervan dynamics: the hinge for the poptop is at the rear of the van, so that the greatest headroom when it is popped is close to the cab, which is where the stove is. I always felt that the poptop was relatively light, and just sort of popped up with little effort. Well, it turns out that I felt this because of the assistance of two devices, one on either side inside the van, which serve to push it up and keep it up. These devices are a bit like shocks on the bottom of a car. They are spring-loaded, or more precisely gas-loaded, so that they want to push apart. When the top is lowered, the shocks are fully compressed. When the top is up, they are at full extension. Not only this but the power they generate is greatest when near full extension. So when I am lowering the top down, the shocks offer the most resistance in the first few inches; as the top is close to being latched, the shocks offer little resistance and allow the top to close easily.

Well, the shocks on Bussy most likely date back to its birthday in 1997. They were worn out. With the difficulty of lifting the top with the bare roofrack, I did exercise what can only be described as a stroke of genius forethought. I bought two new shocks, and the new way that these are made now includes a locking mechanism on one of them. “Why not get two locking ones?” The answer is that both are strong, even the non-locking one, and if I installed two locking ones, I run the risk of not being able to lower the top by myself. I took the qualified and dependable advice of Go Westy and bought the set with one locking. Nicholas looked at how they connected to the van and decided he could install them, “easily” was, I believe the adverb used.

On December 19, after we left Go Westy, we went to San Diego and picked up the loaner surfboard from Geoff and then purchased a new one in Ocean Beach. That night, we drove east toward the border of California, Arizona and very near the Mexican border, to Yuma. Yuma has nothing to recommend it other than the fact that we did eventually leave!

We could not find a suitable campground, the choices were either driving 18 miles on a dirt road or camping in a state park comprised of dunes and, you guessed it, dune buggies. Having no desire for either of these off-road adventures nor the persons who would come with such places, we decided our best bet was to find a nice neighborhood in Yuma and camp there. “Nice” does not come easily in Yuma, but we did find a neighborhood that offered Christmas lights at many of the homes and we decided this would be our safest and best bet.

Once satisfactorily parked, Nicholas got out to retrieve something from the back. I unlocked the top and began to push up. “I can’t budge this thing! I need help!” Even with two of us, the pop top with the rack and now loaded with two surfboards was simply not going up easily. What to do? With both of us pushing with all our might, we were able to raise the top. Nicholas retrieved the new shocks and we began to try to install.

I’m going to spare you all the strenuous details of our philandering with these things. Suffice to say that two hours later, we still had not succeeded in even replacing one of the shocks. We could not compress the new shocks with our bare hands, we could not remove the old ones without unbolting the entire device from the top, the top was heavy, the space small, the night late, and our patience at an end.

So we slept. Poor Nicholas had to sleep in the reclined front passenger seat. The highlight of the night was the banging, thumping, tinny, and generally awful music system installed in a car that came to rest, for several hours, right up the street. It was like being at a mind-numbing disco in an awful part of a city in Europe.

But morning eventually came. I walked the dogs around the grass-less area. Some cooped up pit bulls started fighting with each other because they were unable to get out and attack us (thankfully). It was not the most progressive place in America, to say the least.

Not that we were leaving fine Yuma! No, we went to the nearest Home Depot and Nicholas went in search of two-by-fours and other tools to work on the roof. I remained in the van with the dogs and prepared oatmeal and brown sugar for the humans. The dogs had already eaten.

We used a phone charging cord to measure the length of the boards we needed to prop up the top. Nicholas was able to find a board at the steep price of $0.51 and cut it to fit. He also found, just lying on the street in Yuma near where we had slept, a few pieces of rusty baling wire, which completed our needs.

After several tries, and with Abigail saying things like, “This is never going to work!” and “what an terrible idea!” Nicholas was able to compress the shocks, Abigail wired them tight in this compressed state, and we cooperated in some fashion to remove the old shocks and install the new ones. We did each one separately. It was touch and go there for a while, what with the new shocks trying desperately to re-expand, and the bolts being difficult to install cleanly and directly. But we managed one and then the other!

I was not the only one skeptical of this plan, Nicholas was doubtful too but he doubted that the new shocks would be strong enough to hold up the roof with the rack and boards. I felt pretty sure that if we somehow managed the incredible feat of installing the impossible shocks, they would hold the roof. Well, the good news is the shocks are more than strong enough. We could probably put a mobile home up on top and still raise the roof!

After we were done, we went to the nearest Starbucks and I had a much needed (and I dare say, deserved! Soy latte!!

Here are some pictures of this project:

December 19: San Diego, Dog Beach, Ocean Beach, and Robert August

2009-12-22T05:25:00.000+05:30

After picking up the loaner board from Dan’s friend Geoff, who lives moments from some great surf in Del Mar, we wandered to my favorite spot from my time in SD, Ocean Beach. I took Joe, Carrie and Robert to Dog Beach so they could run around in the sand and surf with some California dogs (Carrie and Robert are both rescued from shelters in California, so maybe it felt familiar to them, who knows?) After running around for a while, this is what they did:

Ocean Beach is not fancy at all, but offers everything you need or want at the beach in southern California. I have always preferred it to the glamour and boardwalks of Pacific Beach, and certainly over the pretentiousness of La Jolla. Ocean Beach is bare bones, but feels authentic and real. They do have a Starbucks now, which is probably something that should bother me, but the Seattle side of me is grateful for a little piece of home so I went in and had a grande coffee.

After some vegan tamales, and with the dogs were safely and coolly parked in the shade, Abigail was revved on caffeine and we made another push for the surfboard. We were about to head east to Tucson, so there would not be another surf town until Mazatlan so it was the best time to make the final push for a board.

The third shop had the Robert August “What I Ride,” the board that Mr. August calls his “If I could only have one board board.” It was beautiful with stripes down the length in red and yellow and white. Not only that, but the price was much cheaper than the little shop in Morro Bay. We talked them down $100 and then took the plunge! The board is epoxy, more durable that the fiberglass, and easy to handle in the surf.

Bussy’s license plates are the ski plates offered by Washington and say: “Washington: Big Mountains, Real Snow.” Bussy seems just as cool (possibly more so) in her beach outfit with two surfboards on top. Here are the pics you’ve all been waiting for:

First, it took us a while to figure out how to strap two boards on top. By the time the boards are side by side, there isn't any room for a person to be up on top.

We figured it out though!

December 18—Real Food Daily, Beverly Hills, and the LA Freeways

2009-12-22T05:08:00.000+05:30

I acquired the Real Rood Daily (RFD) cookbook several years ago and have loved every dish that I have attempted out of it. It is real food, hearty, filling, rich, flavorful and all vegan. The restaurant behind the cookbook exists only in LA and has been something of a Mecca for me. As we approached LA Friday evening, having a pleasant stop just north of the city where the dogs had dinner beneath the Pacific sunset, and having a night to spend before getting to San Diego, the time seemed right for the dinner of my dreams.

Here are some pictures of the camp where the dogs dined:

I’ve never really been to LA, traveling to Long Beach for an erg test or through LAX does not count, and even though I have been to big cities before, I was like the country bumpkin come to the bright lights of the big city. Comments blurted included such things as: “Oh, look! Wilshire Boulevard!”

And “Oh wow, look at that Ferrari!” And of course, since it’s LA: “Oh look, another Ferrari!”

We drove down Rodeo Drive where I must admit Pretty Woman quotes filled my head.

And now, dinner. Friday night at RFD in West Hollywood…would we be able to park and leave the dogs? We decided to go to the restaurant and see what we found. Driving, driving driving, cars weaving in and out, speeding around us and other cars, it is like a video game. Then, aha! On the right, RFD!

We pulled over in the valet area (I guess in LA, even the vegan places have valet parking….) I explained that I wanted to park nearby the restaurant but couldn’t do valet because of the dogs. The nice man said, “If you pay $4.50, back up and park right here.” What a thrill! We could see the van from where we sat for dinner. Here is a view of bussy from where I sat!

And now the food! First course was fresh corn bread with cumin spread. Next came the nachos: tortilla chips with guacamole, vegan sour cream (which is much better than regular sour cream ever was, in my opinion), spicy cashew jalapeno cheese, black beans, and tomatoes. And these nachos were not just a few chips with some toppings; the full plate of chips was covered with the toppings in layers so that a bare chip was not to be found!

Now to the main courses: We ordered the Fettuccini Alfredo which came with fresh broccoli, red peppers, pins nuts and spinach noodles with a lovely sauce. It fulfilled our need for comfort food. We also ordered the TV Dinner. Once I got past the name, which took me a minute, I realized that this dish could be a gold mine: Tempeh Loaf (similar to meat loaf but very tender and a wonderful flavor with carrots and other veggies mixed in) with mashed potatoes, gravy and Caesar salad. Sometimes, simple things like mashed potatoes and gravy, with a little pepper, are just amazing. This dish was like that. Nicholas and I continued to strategically plan the space in our stomachs. After I was full, and returning in the munch on the nachos once again, Nick said, “Do you think they have dessert?” I put my fork down at once!

The nice server boxed up all our leftovers neatly into separate boxes (I had told her about how excited I was to finally come to RFD and the enthusiasm was welcomed!) she brought us the dessert menu. So many wonderful things to choose from, and only two people who were now very full. We settled on a chocolate cake and chocolate pudding. The pudding was the winner, so smooth and chocolaty. I will certainly return to try out the Sticky Ginger Toffee Pudding Cake, which I will merely dream of until then.

Here's Nicholas with our multitude of leftovers:

From RFD, we took a driving tour of Rodeo Drive, Sunset Blvd and the mansions of Beverly Hills. We got out to walk (er…roll, since we were SO FULL!) in Greystone Park, which presented a fantastic view back towards the city. Quiet and dark and peaceful, I can see why all those wealthy people want to live in 90210.

On departing LA, I once again took the driver’s seat and slalomed my way across way too many lanes of travel onto the correct freeway so that we arrived safely in San Pedro for the night. We camped out front of Nicholas’s cousin Jeremy’s house and made our escape to San Diego the next morning.

Dec. 17—Morry Bay, CA, Sea Lions, Cinnamon Buns and the First Surf Shop

2009-12-22T04:45:00.000+05:30

Go Westy loaned us a van to drive around town while the Bussy operation was in progress. We took a visit to Morro Bay, a small, friendly surfing and tourist town just north of Los Osos. Nicholas and I were both getting hungry so when we saw the sign for cinnamon buns, we tried to avert our eyes because we assumed they would be full of eggs and butter (we’re both vegan). We ended up parking right out front, and then spent 10 minutes trying to pop the top on the loaner (only to discover later that the top had long ago broken and was welded shut!). Nicholas wandered into the cinnamon bun shop before I could stop him and began chatting with the man there who was quite amused with our struggles trying to open the so-not-gonna-open roof. (“I’m not sure what that was about…but…”) He was very nice and gave us recommendations for food and surf shops, THEN he told us the buns were vegan so we enjoyed the cinnamon sugar goodness!

While munching on my bun, I caught the happy sound of a sea lion squawking. Here is what we found just across the street and down on the docks:

Inside the first surf shop, we spent a while chatting with a tan surfer guy about board shapes, materials, lengths, and brands. I fell for the Robert August “Wingnut II” but they only had a really long one. It was a great visit and we learned a lot.

Tucson, AZ for the day

2009-12-21T20:40:00.001+05:30

We are in Tucson for the whole day today to pick up some supplies, especially things that will be difficult to find in Mexico, like good peanut butter. Also just doing a few last errands, calling our cell phone companies, making sure our documents for crossing the border are in order, and getting to a wireless cafe!

I have written several blog posts of our adventures of the last few days. Look for those with lots of pictures later on today!

Tucson, and the desert campground we found just north of the city, must have come close to freezing last night and I was glad to have my warm sleeping bag and one set of long underwear- two items that I had been lamenting just a day prior when it seemed we would have only hot hot hot for the rest of the trip. The packing seems to be just right so far. Bussy is full but we are functional inside and don't have to move things too often to find something else.

Robert and Carrie are wondering why it got so COLD overnight! But they are hunkered down in the blanket and hopeful, if a bit skeptical, of my promises if warm sun, sand, and surf!

The highlight of Tucson was seeing this:

A fellow VW with Washington plates!

California, Go Westy, and the first beach!

2009-12-18T23:46:00.001+05:30

The highlights so far today are waking up after the sun and the joys of a nice hot shower! We are at the Go Westy shop in Los Osos, CA, where the awesome van technicians nearly completed the work on Bussy last night. In the end though, they needed to do a bit more work this morning on the alignment. So they pulled Bussy out of the bay and parked her in the Go Westy lot for the night so that we could sleep in our own home. The break room here is really nice, with a kitchen, coffee maker, microwave, bathroom, and shower!

The folks here at Go Westy are as wonderful as you might imagine: their days are full of happy van customers and they get to do great work on fun vehicles all day long! Here are some pictures of Go Westy:

Yesterday saw our first beach! We walked for a few miles just north of The Rock at Morro Bay. The surf was pretty big but too messy for the surfers so we saw only one wetsuit-clad guy getting tossed around in the whitewash. Joe had a blast running on the sand, and we were all glad after a coupld of long days in the van to get out, stretch our legs, and get some SUN!

Here are some highlights of the beach:

Update: 10am this morning: Bussy is all fixed! Time to roll out! We are headed to San Diego to visit Dan's friend Geoff and pick up our free, borrowed surfboard! We are also looking to buy a used 9' longboard so that we have two. More updates to follow soon! Thanks for reading.

Day 1

2009-12-16T12:49:00.001+05:30

This morning saw light rain in Seattle and our farewell to Suzanna and her new wonderful friend Amanda. Joe, Carrie, Robert and I paused at Wayward to get some hugs from Josh and then hit the I-5. Probably the most dangerous part of the trip occurred as I hungrily ate a yummy Hillside Quickies sandwich while driving south on the freeway in what was now pouring rain.

It took almost four hours to get to Ocean Park to pick up Nicholas. On the way Use Your Illusion II brought me to a good place for adventure and Joshua Tree uplifted me entirely. Once Nicholas was on board, I learned from my googlemapping travel partner that our destination at Go Westy was only about 14 hours away! I had misremembered the distance to San Francisco and thought we had 26 hours of driving to accomplish in 2 days!

Our first break came at a Fred Meyer south of Portland where I took the guys fr a very rainy walk in a very dreary parking lt. We drove a few more hours and are camping at a semi-nice rest area south of Eugene.

Joe is exhausted. Carrie is at a loss for more luxurious surroundings. Robert smells funny despite yesterday's bath with our house favorite oatmeal-tea tree shampoo!

Tomorrow we shall see the beach in Los Osos, CA!

A little poetry

2009-11-26T10:37:00.003+05:30

Fewer than 3 weeks remain here in Seattle, 20 days until the adventure begins. Lacking my own words this evening, I will go with someone else's:

"What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. And every phrase
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home,
Taking its place to support the others,
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
An easy commerce of the old and the new,
The common word exact without vulgarity,
The formal word precise but not pedantic,
The complete consort dancing together)
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
Every poem an epitaph. And any action
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start."

from Little Gidding, T. S. Eliot

Adventure planning

2009-11-12T06:38:00.000+05:30

When does the adventure begin? December 15, 2009. Hefty to do list in the meantime!

Dogs vaccinations, done.
Abigail Vaccinations, done.
Abigail meds for malaria and typhoid including antibiotics for any reason, done. Just needs to be filled.
Need health certificate for dogs, with USDA endorsement. Need heartworm, tick and flea, and parasite meds.
Van insurance, figured out. Need to do paperwork. Central America insurance might be better to do from Mexico when timeline more certain.
Dogs' permit into Mexico, still a puzzle.
Dogs' permit into Belize, in the process. Need to know date and location of entry into Belize, may just have to wait on that and obtain permit while in Mexico.
Guatemala, no issues there.
Work on van, scheduled. Still need to buy the parts, will do that tomorrow.

Questions remaining:
(1) Should I bring a new computer that actually works or bring old computer that barely runs, must use cord, but won't care if stolen??

Lots of things to acquire or study:
Driving atlas for Mexico and Central America
First Aid, thorough
Home remedies for dogs
AA International Booklet

Interim projects:
(1) Work on Spanish. Look for immersion program Mexico. Buy CD's for van.
(2) Begin Kung Fu.
(3) Find home for Suzanna, housesitter. Maybe one and the same??
(4) Have vegan dinner party with close friends.
(5) Begin amends.

Update, end of October.

2009-10-28T06:19:00.000+05:30

I am seriously considering an earlier departure date. December 8 is the last day of my Spanish class and December 14 is an important date for which I intended to remain in Seattle. However, the Spanish class could be skipped without much loss; after all, I hope to bring some good Spanish CD's and take some immersion courses along the path of travels. And the other date could be celebrated anywhere in the world, it doesn't have to be Seattle. The way everyone is so connected via the internet and telephones, I would be able to reach people here while also making new friends on the road.

Today it was sunny in Seattle but, looking at the forecast, it will be the only day all week with sun and one of only two days without rain. I'm ready to buy my surfboard and begin the journey!

Got a tetanus booster today, as well as the ever-popular whooping cough vaccine. (ack!) Have a couple other health precautions lined up in the next few weeks.

The dogs are ready for sun and sand and waves.

If you have already decided to do something, and you are looking forward with incredible hopeful anticipation to it, why wait? Indeed. Why wait. New departure date: November 20 (I picked that at total random!)

It can't get here soon enough.

Central America planning!

2009-10-03T21:42:00.002+05:30

We are really going to do this! I need a new name for the blog: Joe (still the greyhound), Carrie (still the fabulous Chihuahua-Dachshund), Robert (the blond, 4-legged, 12 pound, thinks-he's-a-porn-star dog), and Abigail (the lawyer whose career exists somewhere in someone's imagination) are off to Central America in Bussy!! And we even have company!! Nicolas, the equally odd adventurer will accompany us (assuming he comes back from Kenya!) as we explore the waves and ruins and foods of Mexico, Belize, and others en route to Panama.

Bussy Go 2009!

So many things to work out!
The van needs bigger wheels and more ground clearance
the window repair will happen soon
a better mattress
a roof rack for the surfboard
the surfboard!!
the dogs need their traveling papers
sunscreen!
a tattoo on my forearm to remind myself how I became this way and how to not go back

Hola world

2009-09-27T20:39:00.004+05:30

It is now September 2009. Almost two and half years since this most wonderful trip through Austria, Slovenia, Germany, Italy and Switzerland. In that time I graduated from law school, studied for, took, and 3 months later passed, the bar exam in the State of Washington. Then embarked on a dutiful trip to my mom's farm in New Hampshire before returning to Seattle to begin what I thought would be my final career.

Imagine! That any decision I made would be final! No, less than 2 years after beginning my career as a prosecutor for King County, I have now left that position. Here I sit. And now what?

This quotation sums up my current state of mind, with the exception that my road, having already led me West, may now lead me South and out of this troubled country:

"It should not be denied...
that being footloose has always exhilarated us.

It is associated in our minds with escape

from history
and oppression
and law
and irksome obligations

With absolute freedom

And the road has always led West."

--Wallace Stegner

Where am I now? I am in my office in Seattle. I have launched my own law practice:
The Center for Progressive Legal Defense, PLLC
"Defending People, Animals, Rights and Ideas"

But it is too cold here. My feet are freezing. My life is not the life I want. Not quite. Not yet.

In the previous post, I said I would go to Russia. That hasn't happened yet. Now on the top of my list are Central and South America. I begin my first Spanish class on Tuesday. After the New Year, look for me and Joe and Carrie and Robert driving South in Bussy, the camper van. Really South. Past California, through Mexico, and beyond.

What am I looking for? What am I doing? I don't know these answers. One thing I do know is that I am done with any semblance of conformity.

Relieve me of the bondage of self.
Relieve me from anger
Fill me with love.

Written with love, September 27th, 2009. Abigail Cromwell

Here are some photos from the beach on the West side of the Olympic Peninsula in May 2009:

Home Again, The Final Post

2007-06-05T22:14:00.001+05:30

I spent a lot of time by myself in the last few weeks, and enjoyed the time to think. And I found something that I had been missing. I don't know what to call it but I will try to explain: I have been searching for something for many years, some complementary attitude, trait, or way of being, that I did not possess myself. I have tried to find this missing piece in other people, but it has never worked. I thought that I needed someone else to provide this missing piece for me. Now I have found it at last in myself. What is it? A quality of contentment, or maybe peace, calmness, completeness, or maybe it is just the recognition that I can be complete just as I am.

Yesterday, while in a yoga class in Seattle with my favorite teacher, my mind took this idea one step further. Because I am no longer searching for something I need, because I no longer need it, because I have it in myself, now I feel as though I have something to offer. Something real to give to my friends, family, colleagues, and people who pass through or remain in my world.

More I cannot articulate right now, but it is an encompassing feeling.

And on a less-serious note, I have the next trip in the planning stages: Russia 2008! I shall watch my friends row in the 2008 Olympic Games and then take the Trans-Siberian Railway to Moscow and St. Petersburg. The dogs will hold down the fort Stateside for this trip, which will only be 2 weeks, as I probably can't get any more time than that off from my first real job at the KCPAO!!

Go live an adventure!

The return through Austria, Ingolstadt, and Frankfurt

2007-06-05T21:53:00.001+05:30

With less than a week to go before the van was due back in Dusseldorf, we departed Slovenia and made our way back North. I found some of the best campsites of the trip in these last days, and enjoyed solitude, jogging with my iPod, and playing with the dogs in the now-nearly-Summer weather.
Here is one such camping platz, taken from the lone bench on the big hill overlooking:Bussy in action:Where's Carrie?!
Once back in Germany, having skipped the Porsche factory in Stuttgart and the BMW factory in Munich, I would not miss my favorite-- the Audi factory in Ingolstadt. The weather had cooled, which was nice for the dogs who camped in the van outside the Audi Forum Museum while I dreamed of fast cars... I was so excited upon entering just the information and ticket room, and the guy who directed me was thrilled to have someone so eager about Audis! "You can even see the R8 over there!" he exclaimed. Aahh, car people, it was super fun.

The museum contains three levels in a big round building with glass all around. I started at the top and walked through the ages of Auto Union developments as I descended floors. The museum provided a great deal of history, not only about German auto manufacturing but also about what else was going on in the world concurrently in entertainment, world affairs, and the global economy. Facts included when the first license plates were created, where in America the first parking meter appeared (booo!), moon landings, assassinations, etc.

After clearing out the gift shop of posters and stickers, I made the mistake of sitting in the newest S6 Avant in the showroom--wow! (Not to worry, Axl still has many more miles in him...though he was pleased to hear about his fast and fancy new cousins in Germany).

And finally to Frankfurt to a less-fancy but still very nice InterCity Hotel. We stayed 4 nights, longer than initially planned, but it was nice to regroup, repack, clean our dirty selves, and sleep in a real bed. The dogs were not afraid of the airport this time around, nor was I so worried for them. Seasoned travelers they have become!

Portoroz

2007-06-05T21:36:00.000+05:30

We left Bled, made a tour of Ljubljana, and drove through beautiful rolling, tree-filled mountains down to the coast to Piran and Portoroz. Slovenia's population is only 2 million people and it is clear from its lovely countryside.

The campground was right on the water. I enjoyed a great 6-mile run along the coast (practically to Croatia, Slovenia's coastline is not very long), and suffered through a rather awful dinner at a "Mexican" restaurant, since it was Cinco de Mayo and all. One could make a fortune opening authentic Mexican places in Europe. The waiters had no idea that it was even a holiday in Mexico! But the explanation in the menu of what fajitas are was quite entertaining!

Here is the view from the campground:
Looking back towards Portoroz:The weather was hot, and we basked in the sun reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde before taking a trip to Piran which I had heard a lot about. It is a small town right on the water, similar to Cinque Terra in Italy where the houses creep up the cliffside. Only residents are allowed to drive in so we parked and walked into the town. They offer scuba diving right in the Adriatic, a worthwhile return trip adventure! Joe, Carrie and I felt very special indeed to wander through this magical place with alleys, steep steps leading up to a castle, a church, and paths along the cliff edge.

Aside from a near-miss on a narrow street where a bus carrying tourists nearly encountered a stubborn and immovable Joe, causing me to shriek, which probably saved his life, and draw the attention of a nearby police officer, we had a very pleasant day.

Bled, Slovenia

2007-06-05T09:32:00.000+05:30

Writing this from Seattle, almost a month later, it is hard to capture Bled. We drove in on the road from Italy, stopped at a gas station on the highway, bought a map, and I could see that Bled was not far. Only one exit was offered so there we went in the super blue van. Determined to see the lake that I had heard about for so many years, we puttered through a few stoplights. I feared that this lake, which was once so magical, so secret, would be turned into development disaster. The beginning of the town was small, and coming down the hill towards the lake I caught a few glimpses of it in between trees and a few hotels. Under a small stone underpass at lake edge, I could not believe how beautiful this place still was. An island in the middle, just big enough for the white steepled church, and a castle up on a steep cliff overlooking all.
It is rare that a place can carry so much feeling as Bled did for me, at first sight and now still, as I think of it. I felt so connected to my own self, my own world, my past and the pasts of those I love. There is a beautiful campground, full of trees and grass right at the end of the lake, where the finish line to the rowing course is located. I pulled into a nice secluded spot, not knowing how long I would stay and could not leave for almost a week. Something there held me.
The dogs loved it. We walked the circumference of Lake Bled, enjoying the variation in narrow tree-lined paths, and then the well-placed hotels and businesses confined to only one part, leaving the rest clear and free. No houses adulterated the hillsides stretching up, first to small nearby hills and eventually spreading into big mountains. Instead only trees, and peace.
I met a guy named Mitja and he convinced me to join him and his friend on a climb, not up Triglav which required boots and more serious gear than I had on this trip, but up Mt. Stol instead, 2236 meters, just about 7400 feet above sea level. Stol translates to "chair" and is pictured here, the big one in the background overlooking Lake Bled.
So up we went the next day, Joe made it as far as the first hut, roughly an hour's hike. Carrie and I bid him dober dan (good day), tied him to a handrail at the hut with a bowl of water and a man to look after him, and we carried on to the top with our new friends.
Four hours later, one still energized Dachshund-Chihuahua and one very tired girl were reunited with a whimpering but happy Joe. He could not have survived the length and steepness of Mt. Stol and he must have known that his fears of being abandoned on a mountainside in Slovenia were unfounded, after all we had been through!
After the hike, we all rested for a couple of days. Reading, enjoying the place. Then it rained, a lot. We spent the day in the van, reading, watching 24 on the computer (very technological we are!) and listening to the rain on the van's roof. By the time it hinted at stopping eventually, it seemed time to move on so I loaded up bussy and we parted with Bled, at least with our bodies but not our spirits. We visited the incredible Vintgar Gorge, but sadly left the camera in the car. Before heading south to the coast, I drove up towards Triglav, snapped this picture of the three-headed mountain immersed in fog, and promised to return here as well.

En route to Slovenia, through Italy

2007-05-03T16:33:00.000+05:30

More Austria, and some Germany

2007-04-30T20:53:00.000+05:30

The first campsite, in Germany.Driving South and East towards the Rhein

Bacharach, on the Rhein, where we stopped for a snack and found a great, dry bottle of Riesling...Drew you would have loved it! Bussy in the distance!
Joe enjoyed the Camembert...

Joe, cooling his toes in the Bodensee on the borders of Germany, Austria, Switzerland, world traveler and jet-setter extraordinaire!!

This is a farm where we camped just above the Rhein in Germany. I was looking for a campground that appeared on the map but it turned out to be gone and the people who owned this property let us camp in their fields! Totally surrounded by National park, awesome! This guy and others were our neighbors:

The view that nightThis is at the Fernpass campground, Austria. The lake we walked around the next morning

This is Bodele, our first foray up into the Alps. Just East of the Bodensee.
Yeah, I can't remember where this is :( I think its by the Bodensee?

Austria!!

2007-04-28T14:17:00.000+05:30

How many greyhounds get to ride a gondola in Austria near the Italian border???!!!

Happy dance, same in every country, and on any surface!
BIG BAD BLUE BUSSY!!!!!!!

Had to have a makeshift bath after this...
Camping site, pretty civilized!
Walked around this lake

The Self-Portrait: A Work in Progress

2007-04-08T00:59:00.000+05:30

The first attempt...
The second...
The final...success!!