C-eh-N-eh-D-eh

I'm back in Virginia with mono and strep- it seems like every time I leave America I come back having to go to the hospital ASAP. Parasites, viruses and now this .... I think my next trip will be a cruise. A nice, relaxing cruise. That sounds wonderful. I'm so thankful for Beth taking care of me during our "vacation" together - what an amazing friend! Thanks Bethy and I owe you big time!! Anyways, I'm excited to be back where I don't have to sleep on the ground and I can take a real shower where I can adjust the water temperature and drink out of water fountains and wash my clothes in a washer and dryer ... but at the same time I'm amazed at how fast this summer went by - Is it really over???

Reflecting on my time spent in BC I think everything boils down to a hunger, a quest for perfection. Not an abstract idea of perfection, or an idea I hold in my mind of what is "perfect" to me. But the perfect thing in itself. Waking up to the smell of lavender on a summer’s morning, perfect in itself. Going on hour long bike rides without directions, climbing mountains in the rain, figuring out confusing ferry schedules, learning the differences between carrots and parsnips, appreciating traveling solo. As perfectly itself as it can be. Strangers becoming lifelong friends simply because we worked hard together, talked for hours, deeply listened and loved each others life story without judgment. Perfect.

The sounds, the sights, the food, the work, the experiences sang my heart alive. Sang my heart alive. The past two months have been a true gift, and with it I was reminded of how important it is for me, and for everyone, to remember that whatever we touch comes alive. Food. Music. Business. Conversation. Education. Technology. Relationships.

What we touch comes alive. We make each other and in turn we make the world.

It is an understatement to call this the best summer of my life.

Annnnnd now it's time for a nap.

B-Gun and Chuck do Victoria

B-Gun and I are having quite the trip. It's been cool for Beth to be able to meet my wwoofing buddy Jen who I've had so much fun with this summer. But, unfortunately Beth and I are both sick. Immune system - what gives??!! After an unsuccessful trip to the ER last night (where we arrived in style in the back of a security van) we went to a health clinic today where the doc, who dressed in flannel, told me not to take "bullshit medicine," steer clear of carbs, all dairy and processed foods and he suggested that I wrap my neck (he informed me that some use dirty socks).

Whateva docta. Thanks for nothing.

We're off to Vancouver!

"Amy. You are not a bad gardner. You are not a good gardner. You are just not a gardner." - Stefan

I'll admit it - my green thumb is going to be a work in progress, probably for the rest of my life. Stefan asked me how many plant murders I commited this summer and the number is astronomical ... but geeze, what a summer.

I completed my last day wwoofing yesterday and have met up with B-Gun, one of my dearest of dear friends since elementary school. We have a rough plan of not having a plan, which may include the cities of Victoria, Vancouver and Seattle and may have some guest appearances by fellow wwoofers, old college friends, random WHS grads and people I met for a week in the Dominican Republic years ago. What a way to end the perfect summer.

Reason # 19023478 why I love it here:

Update!

Before I tell you about my day I want you to take in the beauty of Mount Maxwell. The pictures is supposed to be of my holding the sun. Blame the photographer, not the model. I am adding this pretty, pleasant picture to balance out what I had in my hand later today.

Jen, one of the farmer owners, had a baby! It was a boy and weighed 10.5 lbs. All the women in the community have home births and typically their husbands birth the babies (...don't really smart people go to school for years to learn how to do this???). Jen had difficulties during her first pregnancy and she ended up having to be helicoptered to Victoria for a c-section because there is no hospital on the island. She didn't want to chance anything this go around so she went to Victoria a few days ago to wait until until she went into labor. She had the baby this morning which is very exciting and basically everyone on the farm minus the wwoofers got to go to Victoria to see her.

Liz, she a part of the "farm community" (AKA she lives on the farm) came home from Victoria a few hours ago. I helped her unload her car and carried this bag that had a heavy pan/container type thing inside. She told me to be careful because I was carrying the PLACENTA. I repeat, the PLACENTA! IN A BAG! Apparently she is going to freeze this and when Jen comes home tomorrow they are going to have a placenta blessing.

I'm speechless.

Me Be Lead Wwoofer

I am so happy to be back in Salt Spring and if they had outhouses I might not put up that big of a fight if I was asked to clean them out. That is saying a lot. I've been climbing the wwoofing ladder these days and have been selected "Lead Wwoofer" by the farmies. Basically the farmers tell me what to do and I have to (literally) translate it to two new wwoofers, Hey-Me-Toe (I might not be spelling - or for that matter saying - her name correctly) and Stefan. This has resulted in many mishaps on the farm - veggies being mistaken as weeds, birds getting caught int he blueberry nets and the wrong plants being thrown in the compost piles. I've been taking the constructive critism very well and although my position is in question I must say that I am pleased with the way the farm is looking. Hey-Me-Toe is from Japan and she does NOT want a tan or the swine flu so she has been farming in a very long rain jacket and she wears a mask. She sweats. A lot. A whole lot. Stefan is from Austria and is a gardener but doesn't know the English names for any plants. Although we don't understand each other very well, we have a great time together. The two of us try to put on a show for Hey-Me-Toe and have competitions to see who can make her laugh first which is difficult because we can't see facial expressions behind her mask. But, I finally have a lake buddy and after work we play at the lake for hours.

I have good joss.

My old man gave me solid advice before I left home: make sure to be within walking distance of a public transit station in case I ever needed to escape. How silly I thought. However, after 4 days of living in a treehouse on Quadra Island I realized I needed to leave and the only way to do it was by running away in the middle of the night. Although beautiful, Quadra is weird, the family I was staying at was horrible and my woofing duties were …. odd. I did 3 things at the farm and my only instruction I ever got was to "do my task mindfully.” I unsuccessfully used a jackhammer to try to dig a new well (photo to the right: Billy was headfirst down an old well. He should not have felt save with me un-mindfully doing my job of making sure he didn‘t die.), unsuccessfully tried to un-sink a sunken ship (it is now artificial seaweed at the bottom of the Pacific) and I was an unsuccessful midwife to a cow (the calf was a stillborn and the cow ended up getting shot in the head.). I like adventure but I was afraid, actually terrified, of what I would unsuccessfully be doing the rest of my stay with this family.
I didn’t know how to politely tell my host family that I deeply hated them so I decided to revert to my childhood days of packing all my stuff in a bag and leaving a note behind saying “Good riddance! I’m never coming back!” and then head off into the forest. Unlike my 9-year old self I didn’t just climb a tree for 20 minutes and return to a family that never even realized I ran off.
Looking back I know what I did today was very dangerous and I can‘t believe I actually did it and I plan on never doing anything like this again. Hitching a boat ride at a random harbor was really stupid and then having to lurk around the greyhound station with professional lurkers in the wee-hours of the morning was dodgy. I've never been more thankful for a flashlight and my iPod in my life. But, after 11 hours of traveling everything worked out - phew - and I’m back at Salt Spring where everyone is naked, every other one is a homosexual and every other other one is a multi-millionaire.

I'm shrinking my to-do list down to the bare essentials today: breathe.
Surprising how often I forget there's nothing more important on the list...

Bullshit!

The farm bought a new bull. You must understand the significance of this move because, apparently, buying a new bull is a lot like buying a new car.
Yesterday the proud new owners had to do a few checks, one being taking its temperature. I was the selected wwoofer who got to leave weeding behind to help out Josh with the bull. Now, when I've taken my dogs to the vets they are not fans of getting their temperature taken either and they make these horrible shrieking noises. I guess most creatures are not like my dear friend BDP. Anyways, so, logic follows, shoving a thermometer up a bull's arse seemed to be quite the feat. However, the farmer, no stranger to this situation, carried on like a trooper with quite an amount of class. Only thing is, when the thermometer was in, the bull decided to do a massive bull shit (ziiiing)!
The crazy part of all of this is that the bull then performed a maneuver more akin to anatomical black magic by doing an in-fart which sucked the thermometer inside the dark abyss. And, wearing his floppy straw hat, the farmer embarked on a journey with me just standing, watching in disbelief and holding my nose. Without going into details, the buried treasure was eventually retrieved amid much fanfare.


And this people is another example of why we must always respect our farmers.

Farmer markets are a subculture in itself.

Jason and Joe (fellow wwoofers) worked at markets for their previous farms (Jason worked at a goat farm and had to bring the baby goats to the market with him!) and I think it is fair to call us farmer market snobs. We know a good one when we see one and honestly, we are quite critical and uppity-duppity on the topic. We decided to hitch a ride into the closest town on Saturday morning to check out the market scene on the island. When I came ready to go in jeans and a shirt I was a little offended when the boys said that I should look nicer. So, Jason and Joe picked out the only sort-of nice dress I brought and made me wear it. Little did I know I was 100% being used to hitch the ride into town. People tend to not want to pick up hitchhikers that are in groups or guys. So, the boys hid in the bushes while I had to do all the dirty work and when I'd catch a ride they'd jump out of the bushes and join me in the car.
The market was packed full of cool stuff, crazy food, interesting vendors and of course loads of street performers. I give the market an A+. These guys are pretty awesome, eh?

New Guru. New Peeps.

A retreat started today that has people from all over the world staying on the farm. I listened to laughter in 8 different languages at dinner.

This is the freedom I continue to love...

Re-Do

So, I read my last post and it didn't seem to make much sense so I'll try to re-explain where I am at better. The farm has 130+ acres of land but only uses 6 acres to farm. They are very into treating dirt with respect so there is no machinery used on the farm and. The rest of the land is used for houses and they make most of their profit here through renting out the land and some of its buildings for events like weddings and spiritual retreats. There is a great lake on the property and I spend most of my time there.
There are about 8 families that live on the farm and I hear the word "community" thrown around approximately 20 times a day. One lady owns all the land and houses and everyone who lives on the property has to ask her permission for everything. Like if they can go on vacation, or get a dog, or send their kids to camp. It is strange.

Other Noteworthy Strange Things:
- There is this tea that everyone drinks out of gourds and slurps through these metal straws. I swear it tastes like liquid cigarettes. It's made from some plant in South America and imported directly to the farm. I don't get the same affect from drinking it as everyone else so the farmers have been diagnosing me weird mental illnesses.
- Meditating every night for 45 minutes is the most painful experience I have ever endured.
- Textile is optional on the island. I've never seen so many naked people in my life.
- Veganism has greatly confused my body.
- There was a silent retreat going on last week where no one talked for a week. The guru hasn't spoken a word since 1952 and communicates by clicking his tongue, pointing and writing on a chalkboard.

I made it to the farm by: a boat ride, a truck ride, a tractor ride(!), a van ride - a skinny dip break- a subaru ride and a jeep ride

WARNING: I may not return.

Movin' On

I'm off and ready to start a new adventure. I'm excited to go to switch farms, meet new people and experience the gulf islands for myself. This farm is going to be interesting seeing as they told me to hitch a ride to the farm (both by land and by boat) and BOYTP (bring your own toilet paper). I don't know the whole electricity situation but if they are telling me to supply my own toilet paper I doubt they have wireless internet. Just a thought. So, if you don't hear from me for the next 2 to 3 weeks it is because of either:

1. I got kidnapped
2. I have become a commune girl
3. I am too busy meditating to dirt
4. I have run off with a farmer
5. I have become a harmonica street performer
6. There is no electricy

.... let's all hope for #5

ONE DAY AT A TIME

 

 

 

 

An email from the new farm I am going to next Monday:

Please arrive on our farm with an open mind and hugging spirit. Quiet meditation alone, on one's own timing, amidst the abundant beauty of nature is essential if one wishes to truly appreciate and respect dirt. Since your main duties will be working within the gardens, we are strongly encouraging you to choose a private place to meditate each day. Not only will this help facilitate every soul's quest for spiritual renewal, inner peace, self-realization but you may also get a sense of the power of dirt.

GOAL: do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh.

Baggage

I’m coming to the realization that a lot of people decide to wwoof because they have issues. Paul once owned a computer store and claims to have had a few employees but he lost the store and then something else must have happened (like him being struck by lightening) because there is no way he can ever be a functioning member of society again. Bettina was stood up at the altar by some guy who left her to marry some Moroccan. Melanie, who is 34, has never been able to hold down a job for more than 6 months and Jen hasn't talked to her family in years. So ….

What’s my deal? What am I escaping from?

….. Being a 3 Monkeys Waitress.

"What I love about this lifestyle is I don't know if I'll be sleeping in a bed or on the streets tomorrow." - Felix

I spent two days in Victoria visiting Hye-Yeon who is working in a hostel there as a housekeeper. When she got off work she took me on a walk to show me the "best bathrooms" in Victoria which were located in a 5-star hotel's lobby. She hated the outhouse at the lavender farm and told me that when she wants peace she'll walk to this hotel to go to the bathroom. Life is about appreciating the small things, right?!

Victoria never ceases to amaze me. I had awesome hostel-mates, Kevin from Ireland and Felix from Germany. They met at a hostel three months ago and have been traveling together since and apparently aren't going to stop until they spend every last cent. They entertained me the entire night with crazy traveling stories and jokes - it was a much needed break from farm life.

On a sadder note, my vegan farm cancelled on me. But, it's karma because I cancelled on a farm to go to this farm. I sort of deserve it and I'm used to plans not working out so this kind of stuff doesn't stress me out anymore. Also, I am way too excited about an oyster farm I am going to in August that is located on one of the gulf islands where I get to live in a tree house (!!) for 8 days. A tree house! How absolutely amazing is this?!?!

But, currently, I am undergoing a massive farm search so that I won't be homeless come next Monday. Options: an assistant to a spiritual yoga/Buddhist leader, beekeeping, llama cleaning or cow branding. I could work on a vineyard, a garlic farm or one that has a huge veggie gardens. I could live in a tee pee, a camper a school bus or a loft. Ah, decisions...

This lifestyle is cool.

When in Rome...

For the past year I have spent a good portion my time pretending. I pretended to care when I caught students chewing gum or cheating on their homework (I never actually graded that stuff anyways), pretended to know things like the meaning of "day time pee-pee issues" and the word "quaishabomb" without asking for further information (note to self: ask for more details on these). I pretended that I could understand what was said during staff meetings and I pretended that picking up pieces of weaves and fake nails was a normal way to end a work day. I pretended that I knew how to do the stanky leg, the shoot out and the Ricky Bobby. I pretended not to notice incorrect grammar used by fellow English teachers and I finally got to a point where I pretended to overlook words like "dat" and "da" in student work. I pretended it was appropriate for parents to come to meetings with their toddlers in tow wearing bibs that said, "Help! I don't know who my daddy is!" and pretended to have an answer when students asked who was the better man - Barack or Barack Obama.

I figure since I've spent so much time pretending lately I figure I might as keep it up. Thus, my choice to tell my next farm that I am vegan.

Let's see how well I can pull this one off....

I'll take weird over boring any day

Maybe it was the lavender paste Bettina fed me a few days ago. Maybe it was a good night sleep or all the water I've been chugging. I don't really care what it was, but I'm feeling much better! I have a spring to my step, a swagger to my walk. The world is a beautiful place again. In the words of Bettina, "Holy smokes! Thanks God!"

Bettina and I spent the day at the farmers market in Duncan. I don't know if there is some magnetic force that attracts weird people to me or what but everywhere I go, every place I visit, every establishment I enter the weird-os come out of the dark corners and find me. This is only my second time in Duncan but I've already established a little following: Willow, Twinkle Toe (I swear I am not making this up), Pony Rainwater (she's not an Indian - I asked) and Rick. Willow, Twinkle Toe and Pony Rainwater are simple weird-os. They are a bit spacey and have long dreads with lots of beads and sticks stuck in them and they have the longest armpit hair I've ever seen. They are friends and hullahoop their way through the market (literally, they hullahoop and walk - what a talent! But very inconvenient in a crowded space....) and ask me about basic weird things like if I could stick a bud of lavender to their foreheads to radiate peace and harmony... Today they came with a gift for me, "ScarGone" lotion that has 52 uses (it can cure: pink eye, diaper rash, hang-nails, ear infections, curled toes and fungus).

Then there is Rick. Rick is a traveling guitarist. I say traveling because he is on a motorized scooter/wheelchair thingy but every 5 minutes or so he gets up and walks around to smoke a cig. Last week he talked to me about his trip to Mexico (he arrived by space craft) and the other lifetimes that he lived in. He claims to know me because he read about me in a magazine a few weeks ago and he never forgets a face and he knows for certain that we were friends in another galaxy. He also had lots of questions for me like what does the Mason stand for in the Mason-Dixon line, what would happen if you have only a lamp shade and a desk (I said you'd have something to protect your food from flies???) and if he could have my autograph (I signed: Reach for the stars, Rick!!). He did not believe that I was an American because he hates all Americans and I am way too ethnic. So, he informed me that I am 99% African with a splash of something he just can't put his finger on. (Rach and Kyle - flashback: Ming Dynasty....). This week Rick did not disappoint and we covered topics like black holes, ants that are taking over the world, the color yellow, a conspiracy theory dealing with the words their, they're and there (which he pointed out all start with the letters 'the' in case I had a hard time spelling them), he told me lots of lead pencils jokes and, most importantly, I performed my first ever duet:

Do these people have issues? Perhaps. Do they scare a lot of people? Probably. But, I can't stand boring so I'd rather talk to people like this all day long than have some humdrum convo with the average Joe. But, the one thing I need to work on is stop telling people like this my name, where I am from, my birthday and all my other personal information that I so willingly give out.