Undefinable. Part One.

The biggest reason that my postings on this blog have slowed down is because, more and more, it is difficult for me to have some central theme to my musings.

'Why'  you may ask 'Do you need a central theme?  Why don't you just write about what is going on at any point in time?'

And I guess that that is the million dollar question.  As I get older - and I had my 47th birthday last week - I observe the behaviour of other mature members of my human tribe.  Their lives, their careers, and their blogs, seem to revolve around one, or for the most two, subjects.  If X is a designer she writes about design.  If Y is a traveler, she writes about travel.  If Z is a parent, he writes about parenting.  Some of my friends are more multifaceted than others and, in that case, they tend to have separate blogs for each subject.  And separate compartments in their lives for their various interests - family life, career and spirituality all have the place and time.

I have NEVER been deeply interested in just one thing - or in simply writing about one thing in this space.  During high school I was passionate about a bunch of subjects, activities, sports and people - all at the same time.  I believed in the idea of AND.  In my high school matriculating exams I took the language path AND the science path AND the math path (sneaked that last one in after hours since the school would not allow such variety).  I was an avid and accomplished sportswoman AND an academic teenager AND deeply involved in extra-curricular and leadership activities.

In school days there were awards for excelling at several things, for being a generalist - in my secret teenage thoughts I was aiming to be a 'Renaissance' woman.  But it's now 30 years later, the Renaissance is long gone and specialization is king.  In addition to which, as I've gotten older,  I have found it increasingly difficult to excel at several things at the same time.  The tasks are more complex, the goals are set higher.  Parenting is not the same as playing hockey.  Planting food sustainably is much more difficult than learning to be fluent in French.  And so the word 'mediocrity' pays an occasional visit as a concept which I must look at, think about and deal with.

Yet even though I understand that without specialization it is difficult to become an expert in one particular area, at no point do I think - well, you can't keep being involved and interested in such contradictory activities.  I LOVE parenting in a deep and involved way and still homeschool my children and  I LOVE the world of planting, farming, food production and  I LOVE the United States and Trinidad and Tobago and  I LOVE, absolutely LOVE being a fulltime traveler and  I LOVE architecture and I LOVE participating in unraveling human behaviour and human emotions.  I LOVE... I LOVE.... I LOVE.......

A gypsy farmer?  Ha Ha.  Not possible.  A traveling counselor?  Laughable.  Unable to answer a simple question such as 'Where do you live?'?  Get back to earth woman.  These are not things that anyone discourages me from doing - most people have given up on that.  But I look around and see that life can become rather complex if the balls you are juggling are of different sizes.

But despite the difficulty in mastering a range of life skills I no longer truly consider getting more specialized.   Over the years I have, bit by bit, come to realize that this is part of who I am.  It's not forced and it's not a pathology - a sign of delayed maturity or something of that sort.  In Ayurveda it relates to the high Vata contribution in my makeup.  In Human Design it is part of my being a Projector.  In Astrology it's just the way that Sagittarians often are.  And even though I don't use any of these organizing models as guiding principles, they underline the idea of self-acceptance.  The amazingness of human diversity.  The joy that can be found in contrast.

I never sat, as a child, and built Legos or played with dolls for hours.  I loved daydreaming, reading, looking at the broadness of the universe.  I sat day after day in the top branches of the Pommerac tree with a pile of books, pondering the mysteries of life and fantasizing about being involved in so many of the adventures that were on the page, of learning about everything, about being the kind of witch who delved into all kinds of mysteries, not the specialized Superheroine with one particular skill.

I love the entirety of life.  And whenever I try to deny that, to create black and white, firm edges and lines, my inspiration dries up.  And I find myself seated, disconnected from the larger universe, and living the zombie life.

So bring it on universe!  I'm ready and waiting.

Locavores of Trinidad and Tobago Unite!!

So!!  This is really exciting!  There is a conversation going on right now about eating locavore in Trinidad and Tobago and so I decided to post one week's worth of menu possibilities here.  As some of you know I did an organic, vegan version of this for a few years at my Sun Eaters Cafe in Trinidad but here's one for omnivores.

Breakfast items

• Tannia porridge
• Omelets with local free range eggs from chickens fed with only local feed
• Big big smoothie with frozen bananas, jamun, pineapple, brazil nuts and coconut milk
• Fruit salad with local goats' milk yogurt
• Scrambled eggs (see above) with local ham (from local pigs)
• Sweet potato hash browns with smoked fish (smoked on Karl's branca in Brasso)
• Fast Day - as local as you can get.  Unsweetened fresh watermelon juices until midday.

Lunch Items

• Smoked Chicken piled on grilled yam slices with salad of Katuk leaves and pomerac chow in a lime vinagrette
• Callalloo soup with chunks of pumpkin and 4 different ground provisions.  Add conch for carnivores
• Eddoes souse with shredded chive and chadon bene, grilled eggplant, plantain and pumpkin, pan-fried tilapia
• Large arugula/lettuce salad with goats cheese, cherry tomatoes, marinated topi tamboe (guinea arrowroot), sauteed baby leeks, ortanique slices and  a light pesto dressing.  Side serving of baked redfish.
• Yam pie baked with eggs and hill rice milk.  Buffalypso steak. Aibeka salad.
• Green fig/cucumber salad with lemon juice marinade.  Curried vegetables made with local mix of fresh turmeric and other spices.  Curried fresh beef.  Hill rice.
• Fast Day - Cucumber/Morai/Pumpkin/Beet/Carrot/Coconut/Tomato/Patchoi/Chive/Ginger juices or suitable mixes of the above.  Fresh herbal teas.

Dinner Items

• Loaded pumpkin soup - include ground provisions, mankiller figs, non-endangered crayfish, beef - all cooked and served in separate bowls for optional addition
• Sauteed poi in coconut-lemongrass sauce, christophene pie, patchoi salad
• Smoked grouper sandwiches on cassava bread.  Side cucumber/morai salad.
• Pigeon peas soup with side lettuce/tomato salad
• Green paw paw/chataigne curry, grated daikon salad, lamb chops
• Coconut flesh noodles, stir-fried vegetables (water chestnut, christophene, cabbage and pumpkin) and crispy duck (prepared with local versions of traditional seasonings).
• Fast Day - More juices, smoothies, herbal teas.

And we can do ALOT more than this but we have to get farmers on board with carrots, beets and other produce.  We have to produce more food in our backyard - especially greens that are not traditionally planted, and we have to start saving and sharing seeds at the end of EVERY rotation of annuals.  

I did not include certain seasonal tree crops - breadfruit, mango, avocado - because if we do this in January I don't know how much of these things will be available.  Share your ideas and let's do this.  Now.

Marathon Sustainability Open House October 2010

10/4/2010  Hey Folks.  Scroll down for an updated version of the weekend schedule.  There will probably be some more changes made but not many more.   There is no charge for the weekend although donations are welcome and it would be great, but not necessary, if you could let us know when you intend to come and leave.   Looking forward to seeing you all.

Schedule

Saturday October 9th.

AM -  
8:30 - 10:00 Organic Gardening and Permaculture -  Learn the nuts and bolts of planning an organic garden or a sustainable organic farm

10:00 - 12:00 Part 1. Sustainable building.  Paper crete workshop and visit to a papercrete structure.

12:00 - 1:30 PM Communal Lunch.  Marathon Motel Kitchen.

PM - 
1:30 - 4:00 The Human Element of Sustainability - How do human interactions affect our ability to be sustainable?  What skills are helpful in dealing with challenges in this area?  Come share your experiences in a facilitated discussion at the Made in Marathon Cooperative.

Communal Dinner at the Famous Burro followed by live music

Sunday October 10th

AM -    
8:30 - 10:00 Intentional Community, Organic Gardening and Alternative Building - Visit La Loma del Chivo.  See how they are planting and building.
10:00 - 11:30 Part 2.  Sustainable building.  Adobe Construction.  Talk with experienced adobe builders on the pros and cons of adobe construction.  Check out an adobe building up close.

Option 1
Communal lunch then visit to Sally Roberts' farm where heirloom chickens, goats, cows and horses are kept.  Sally will chat with you about her goat cheese and processing business.
Option 2
Road trip to Marfa to set up table on Gardening as Installation Art in the Marfa Book Company.  Staggered visits to Chinati Open House.  Meet with one of the founders of Marfa Farm Stand - a type of farmers' market - and discuss its evolution.

Late PM - Return to Marathon.
8:00 PM Communal Dinner at Marathon Motel

Monday October 11th

AM -  
9:00 - 10:30 Session at Alan Haley's farmette.  
10:30 - 12:00 Adobe, Papercrete and Strawbale.  Which one is better?  Visit Eve's Garden - a bed and breakfast in a papercrete building which incorporates an organic cut flower garden.   Visit a strawbale building.

Communal Lunch

PM -
1:30 - 3:00 Gardening, Farming and Economics -  How much does it cost to develop an organic farm?  Can you support yourself financially from your garden?  What's does a vertically oriented sustainable garden or farm look like?
3:00 - 4:30 Dream time.  What do you dream about regarding sustainability?  What gets in the way of taking action to fulfill your dream?  What skills do you need?  And how can you participate in community in order to get your dreams realized and help others to do the same?  

4:30 - 5:00 Closure and goodbyes.  

New England Update

Those damn photos are once again keeping me back from blogging!  I see things and think thoughts that I want to share but getting my hands on my computer when a certain 5 year old girl has decided that the machine is hers and hers alone is easier said than done.  My photos are slow and stressful to download and so, for now, you will be getting the words without my visual references.

I'm in Portland, Maine.  And, as usual, the journey is not about hauling myself and the children to museums, buying souvenirs and roaming the city with a fine-toothed comb in order to get a clear sense of things that are deemed 'important' enough to be mentioned in guide books and on street signs.  For us, particularly for me since the children continue to spend long hours online, it is about hanging out with friends, finding the activities and things that we love no matter where we are, and just being.  I get as much pleasure standing in line at the regional supermarket chain and hearing a thick Maine accent as I would potentially get viewing the best of the art that the town can offer.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VE2f-dg7qI - for your chance to hear the regional speech.  Reminds me of some West Indian accents)

Yesterday we went to the Maine Mall to finally buy a television for the RV and Kwamena's gaming system.  And we got to see what the 'average' Portland person looks and sounds like - dark haired, pale and creamy skinned.  Yet we also saw more Sudanese than we've ever seen in the US.  Efua fits right in here.  We were lucky enough to have taken a secondary highway from New Hampshire into Maine when we arrived here a few days ago.  Along the route there were little towns with names like Cornish and Standish.  Without stretching my imagination too much I could have pretended that I was in the UK without having to buy a plane ticket - but then again I would have crashed the RV into a car driving on the wrong side of the road.

Our sightseeing includes trips to the bank, filling up gas at the gas stations, paying the fare at the tollboth and - a New England tradition for me - speaking to at least one local mechanic.  With the stupid little persistent problem I'm having with my engine I seem to find myself visiting a garage in every town.  'New England Mechanics - a guide to engine repair in the Northeast' will be an easy book for me to write.

The inland towns on my way to Portland were lovely and definitely more urban than the rural Vermont that I'd left.  Main streets were lined with older buildings, people were sitting in porches and wandering down the road and in the midst of the mix  I glimpsed several Goths - or was it Emos? - trapising around in their all-black garb.

With us having spent time in East Norwalk in Connecticut, Boston in Massachusetts, Salisbury Beach, Waterville in rural Vermont, White Lake State Park in New Hampsire,  South Portland in Maine and Watch Hill in Rhode Island, I think that we've seen a major cross section of New England.  We've shared waves with the heavy makeup skimpy swimsuit teenage crowd in middle Massachussets and the pinochle-playing, chino-wearing Rhode Island summer families.  We chilled last night in a tango club on Congress Street in Portland (can't wait to participate in the only global competition that gyrating over-sexed Trinis seem to have) and ate ice-cream on the gorgeous, sedate waterfront in Burlington.  Our gullets have been treated with raw Blue-Point oysters fresh from the Connecticut sea, maple flavored creamees in Vermont, Greek pizza in Jamaica Plains, and will soon be dipping into Maine lobster dripping with steaming butter.  The children drew the line at eating snails in black bean sauce in a restaurant in NY's Chinatown but I have a feeling Efua will return to the Maine Mall to buy those sauteed and seasoned larvae that she couldn't put down yesterday.

I want to make this area one of our several homes - this brings it to four.  It would be just right to spend three or four months here a year.  All of us gardening from farm to farm and backyard to backyard, the children playing video games with revolving partners and me stepping/pausing/stepping/stepping/pausing to tango music in cozy Maine clubs.

Long live the life of a gypsy!

I want AND not OR - saying goodbye to Washington DC

We're finally heading north.  We got to the Washington DC area more than 2 weeks ago with a tentative plan to stay for one week.  But after the first teething pains - and they were pretty uncomfortable - we started to have fun.

During the past ten months we haven't been typical tourists more than a couple of times.  We tend to visit places where the sights are unstructured and instead of museums we usually frequent people-meeting locations - playgrounds, coffee shops, libraries, bike stores.  But it was different here.  The Smithsonian got tired of us because we went there so often.  We visited both wings of the National Gallery, the Museum of Natural History, the Museum of the American Indian and the Museum of American History.  We also hung out at the National Zoo, the College Park Aviation Museum, rented paddle boats in the Tidal Basin, and strolled slowly - in intense DC style humidity - around the White House and the Washington Monument.  We parked the RV in the 'primitive' campground at Greenbelt Park, at a friend's house in NE Washington near Rhode Island Ave, and at the parents of another friend close to downtown Silver Spring.  We took the Metrorail system, buses, rode our bikes and drove in cars.  We went to several parties, many playgrounds and walked or cycled on Sligo Creek trails over and over again.  In other words, we ate buffet style and a la carte.

When we first got here my niece, my sister and my parents - who visited from Tobago - were busy with my niece's high school graduation.  And we were really feeling like the country mouse who came to town.  I repeatedly kept hearing that old tale running in my head.  But within 10 days I had already shifted gears.  You townspeople certainly know how you keep yourself groomed!  So off I went to have my eyebrows shaped and my rough old gardener's feet pedicured for the first time in probably 5 years.  They now look like they belong on another body but have accepted that this one will have to do.  We were behaving so thoroughly like 'country bumpkin come to town' that when we went to one friend's house we pelted across the driveway, hearts pounding, to escape what sounded like gunshots only to find out that they were just fireworks, a nightly norm during the DC summer.

After many months spent in quiet rural areas the rhythm of the city definitely requires an adjustment.  People are so so busy.  In New Mexico and rural Texas most of the people we met didn't have cellphones.  And the ones that did rarely carried them.  But, as many of you know, in places like DC and Miami we could hardly find anyone without a bent head, texting and answering frequent calls.  Children have activities back to back so most of my parent friends spend countless hours on the road having to drop and pick up many times in a day.  In rural US the parents I hung out with often would have no end point to our interaction except perhaps an early bedtime.

I bring no judgement to these comments.  I simply notice that these is a lot of contrast to the experiences that are possible when living with more, or less, population density.  Do I have a preference?  For sure.  I want a life when all things are possible but where little is deemed necessary.  I would love to have the magnificent marble columns that you find in the National Gallery available for a visual feast when I want.  AND I would also like to be able to wander in such places uncombed, barefooted and with a skip to my step.  I want the choice of organic produce that I find in the city.  AND I want to be able to have leisurely conversations with my friends while we crunch on the produce at some point in the day.  I want a lovely public transit system.  AND I want roads that are unaccustomed to motorized vehicles.  I want the things that I like about country life AND I want the things that I like about city life.

Unrealistic, you may say.  Go for it girl, some of you think.  And I say yes to both.  As the channeled spirit Abraham says, if you stick with reality then you are rooted like a tree to the spot where you stand and the life you currently live with all its good and all its bad.  Personally, I enjoy being the roots, the trunk, the leaves, the flowers and the seed.  Give me an AND existence any day.

See you in New York.

Why this place? Why these people?

There are many people in the world who spend their entire lives in the same place.  They are born amongst others with whom they have much in common and they build their community in stability.

And then there are the nomads....

Those of us who, from birth, always hear a call from afar.  Some of us are unable to do much more than read books from other lands or watch films from other shores.  And then there are some of us who, no matter what the cost, pull up the anchor (or cut the chain) and set sail with no known destination in mind.

You may have guessed by now that I am one of the latter.  When I look back on my life I can see that I spent much of my time learning about other lands.  I read voraciously, even hiding in closets so that I could devour my books in peace.  I would climb a large tree in my backyard, a pommerac tree for those who are familiar, settle myself into a space between two branches, and sit for hours submerging myself in the lives of others.  Forgetting food.  Forgetting friends.  Forgetting boys, even in puberty.

Did it help that I was born into a family that had flight privileges?  Of course.  From very early on I was on a plane.  Visiting New York, Washington, Miami, Toronto.  And as soon as I could manage it, by my late teens, I was on my own to Paris, London, Berlin, Venice.  When I look back on it I am so so grateful to my parents for trusting me to get on a flight alone at 18 and make my way to Paris.  With full suitcases dragging my Trinidad fashions to train stations in London, airports in Rome, bus stops in Sussex.  A bit unbelievable in retrospect to think of a Trinidadian teenager figuring all of this out and having adventure after adventure.

So I guess that when I review my past it is not so strange that I have found myself in one of the most uninhabited parts of the United States with little more than the Milky Way and yucca plants to keep me company.   The children and I ride our bikes everywhere in this little town.  And sometimes, when we are sitting on the benches on Main Street, visitors passing through will ask in amazement - And what brought you here?  And I can make up a story but the truth is that I don't really know.

What made me see an entry in a blog and decide that this was going to be one of my new homes?  And what made me come back again and again even after having left?  And how come, in this town of about 500 people, we have more connected friends than we do in the whole of crowded South Florida?  And went to a wedding yesterday where we knew lots of the people there?

In the nomadic life there are always places that ring true.  The favored oasis at which you bring your camel back to graze every few months.  For some nomads it's the 'woman in every port' phenomenon.  Form a romantic interest, keep the embers glowing, and come back to stoke the fire every once in a while.  But for me I think the key is to find places where the priority is not status and appearance.  Those places can be fun but, for me, a short visit, is all that I want.  I like places, like Marathon, where everyone wore what they wanted to the wedding.  There were people dressed to the hilt and others who wore the same clothes that they wear every day - maybe their shirt was ironed for a change.  I like people, like the eccentrics who are scattered through this area, for whom pleasure is owning your own time.  

My community is best developed where others are so distinctive, so one of a kind, that race, class and gender become almost insignificant in the face of overwhelming individuality.  And so far, I have best found these places in the US Southwest desert.

But despite the comfort of community I am sure that one day soon other shores will call.  I will unhook the water line, unplug the electricity, start the engine, and go looking for another oasis where the children and I can hang our hats.  Where we can find instant family.  Where we are so at home that the second time we pull into town we are treated like long-time residents who were sorely missed.

And such is the life of a nomad.

But at least, when things become uncertain, there's always the Murphy St. Raspa Company in neighbouring Alpine where we can go get snow cones.  Did I forget to say that life is good!  Yes it is.

Things I didn't take pictures of

First of all I want to thank you.  For reading my blog even when there are not a lot of pictures.  For bearing with me while I submerge myself in beautiful scenery and gorgeous experiences and have the selfishness to not even take out my camera although I know many of you are dying to see the world in which I travel.  For allowing me to be in my life without having to take pictures of it.

And so, as part of my thank you present, I want to still find a way to share my emotions and my mental memories with you, my friends.  And so these are some of the things which never made their way into photos.

• The dried out carcass of a dead deer at the side of a desert highway.  In a flash I imagined the vultures and other scavengers picking out the insides and not even bothering to eat the skin.
• The Texas wildflowers.  More and more and more of them, all colors, all shapes, all sizes until I reached the mountains that would bring me to Marathon and they only occasionally showed their solitary heads to at least give us a little tease.
• The river walk in San Antonio.  The shade of the many many large trees lining the paved riverside pathways and growing very very strong and tall into the sky despite the hundreds of chattering tourists.
• The completely still black and red snake in the marshes of central Texas.
• The mulberries on the big mulberry tree and swashed underfoot which we all kept eating, and eating, and eating till our mouths were stained with juice.
• The indescribable feeling of expansion as I crested a hill and saw the expansive plateau ahead of the high Texas desert.  

These moments are not retrievable.  They are here for a flash and then gone forever.  Thank you so much for sharing in my journey - even when I don't take out my camera.

Your friend,
Gillian