On the Road Again

Yup, we are! We are on the last week of a 4 week trip home to the states. We have been in Heber, California, Idaho and now it's back to Utah. There have been so many fun moments that we'll treasure until we can make some more! The boys have had a couple of "sick" (that's a good thing!) ski trips up at Kelly Canyon. They have pulled each other on snowboards behind the 4 wheeler in the snow at Grandma and Grandpa Packer's house and had unbelieveably late nights watching movies and playing XBOX at Brumfields. Jeremy had the unique thrill of surfing with a pro, Uncle Jimmy. Big Jimmy said he has potential so we'll have to hook him up when we get back to Australia. There happen to be a couple of nice places to surf over there.

We had the pleasure of stealing our cousin Kylee away for as much of our California activities as possible. She had a mysterious knack for keeping Riley and Jeremy both entertained, or at least distracted, by their constant need to constantly entertain her! A very nice arrangement, I must say.

Grandpa Riley took us to the border fence between San Diego and Tecate. It is remarkable and reminds me of a snake. It slithers through the hills beyond what is visible straight up and over whatever lies in it's path. He's working on installing the gaps in the original fencing, which is an unattractive cut in the landscape made of six foot sections of metal sheets, with the new fence. The new design is unusual and well thought out. It's 18 feet tall with tubes every 5 or so inches that are set on a diagonal. The spaces allow the border patrol to see exactly what's happening on the other side. Now how come they didn't think of that the first time?! To make climbing it more difficult the last 5 feet are flat steel. Once installed, each tube is filled with cement and then capped. Surprisingly, it is a pretty cool looking fence. It was definitely cool to be so close to the work going on there. The icing on the cake was riding in Grandpa's work jeep. That thing took us up and down things that looked impossible to climb or descend!! Here's to keeping the drugs out of California!!

Oh and have I mentioned the food? Carne asada burritos from the place Grandma and Grandpa R have been frequenting for the past 40 years. They swear it hasn't changed one ounce! They were sooo good. Of course, we were met at the door with the smell of fresh baked, way too delicious, chocolate/butterscotch chip cookies by Grandma R. We ate those till we were sick. O.K. so it was just me, but still, very good. There have been yummy lunches, one by the beach near Aunt Robin's and Hannah and Ben's in Cardiff by the Sea, a couple at local lunchos in Idaho Falls, some yum trips to Cafe Rio type restaurants in Utah. You know, where you get your home made tortilla, special meat, beans of your choice, sweet or mexican rice, etc, etc. and best of all, HORCHATA! Mmmmm. No offence please, dear Australia, but your Mexican food totally stinks. Sorry. We have had at least two delectable overnight french toast breakfasts with buttermilk syrup. Very naughty and all my fault I am afraid. Tonight Mike and Laura pulled out some lovely ice cream, Reeses and Chocolate Brownie something or other. Mmmm, with a little milk and stirred together, just like a milkshake. Thankfully my jeans seem to be happily growing right along with my hips. That's what I call a useful wardrobe!!

Oh, the funny for the night! I almost forgot, (and then I am , yawn, going to bed, I swear). You know that buttermilk syrup I mentioned. Well, when it gets cold it separates and gets cloudy and lumpy on top and clearish brown underneath. It looks just like some kind of cooking fat you have poured off to cool and now needs to be dumped in the garbage. Anyway, my sister Jen showed up later in the evening. We had all been munching on some apples and I cut myself a slice while she was watching. I couldn't resist adding, "Mmmmm, now I'll just slather this with some of this bacon fat (hee,hee)," as I spooned a big gob of it onto my apple and quickly stuck it into my mouth! Horrified. Sickened. Disgusted. Yeah, that just about covers it. I thought she was going to toss her cookies right there on the kitchen counter. It was awesome!!!

Time for bed. Big day tomorrow. Who knows who we'll see, what we'll eat or where we'll go but if we're lucky it will be just as lovely as every day up till now has been. (Not counting the two root canals!!) So thanks sweet husband for letting us come. Thanks to family and friends for your love and hospitality. And for the patience of those who are waiting for us to actually show up! We're on our way!!

Don't Take No For An Answer!

They look like dolphins, I know that.  But they are NOT!  They are whales and they were gorgeous.  Fine, we can see that but what does that have to do with not taking "no" for an answer Kelli?

Let's go backwards from this glorious moment of experiencing the wonder of whales in the wild to what happened three hours earlier.  (I'll try not to go on and on!)  

I booked this tour, see, for my Aunt Robin, a great friend, Liz S. and myself.  Turned out that when I called to confirm, as you do, there were no spaces left on the boat.  I felt totally accountable since it was late notice.   Me, being me, said,  "I see.  Well thanks anyway.  Maybe we can come another day."  Never mind that I had been working full steam to pull this off.  Schedules had been changed, favors had been asked, all roads were leading to a highly anticipated day out on the ocean.  

Well, in short order Miss Liz arrives.  Upon hearing my woeful tale she marches me right upstairs to the phone.  "Don't take no for an answer!"   "Call them back."  Me, being me, said, "o.k."  Wouldn't you know the gal offered to get us in on another vessel.   After many phone calls back and forth between the gal that was helping us and the company that signed us on, some serious driving during rush hour traffic and a mad (and might I add clumsy) dash through Sea World's maze of a path to the dock we finally arrived huffing and puffing and only slightly mortified to have held a massive touring boat with all of it's guests up for 10 minutes.  Ooops!

It turned out to be THE perfect day of whale watching.  We whooped it up yelling, per the captain's helper's  direction, for them to come say hi.  We waved our arms and stamped our feet along with the rest of the folks eager to attract who we were dying to see up close.  Unbelievably they came.  The rolled and dove.  We saw a pod of 2 then a pod of 3 come cruise right next to the ship.  I swear they were looking at us, checking us out.  It was truly fantastic.

There was even time to catch a bite to eat at a cafe along the ocean and shop for treasures.  In fact, Robin found the perfect didgeridoo for her son and some darling little goodies to take home for her daughter.  All in all it was a day I am soooo glad we didn't give away to a simple "no".

Lovely Lady with her Linens

This is my sweet friend June.   I have enjoyed getting to know her over the past few months.   She and her husband, Martin, share a home with her youngest daughter, Liz (my wonderful buddy) and her family.   Since Martin suffers with Alzheimer's June's life is mostly about his care.   Her back hurts, she has sore knees, there's and issue with her blood pressure and lately she has been sidelined by migraines.  Talk about endure to the end!!  So if anyone had a great excuse for letting the housework suffer it would be June.  Heaven knows the slightest distraction can keep me from it!  Long story short, I was borrowing some sheets for a guest and happened to get a good look at the linen closet that June maintains.  I was shocked!  While I stood, mouth agape, staring in disbelief she fussed about how there were a few things out of order and "wouldn't it be nice if she could clean that bottom shelf up a bit".   As it turns out she was just as tidy when her little ones were little.  By the way gals, she bore 5 children in 6 years!  My friend Liz was the caboose arriving nine years after number 5.  She's not sure why but keeping a tidy place and organized space has always come easily to her.  Well June, of your many talents this is one sure to impress.  I love you and thanks for letting me share it.  

A few pics from Vanuatu

My that's a big turtle you have there.  What do you do with that?  Eat?  Are you kidding?  Oh, the whole village eats off it.  For ceremonies?  Ah, I see.  Good idea.  Maybe we'll just throw a gigantic wooden turtle on the table at the next family reunion to cut down on clean up.  Brilliant!
Kava, freshly picked, dried and ready to grind.  Add water and you have the most popular drink in all the islands of Vanuatu.  Each island has a kava plant different than all the others.  They ship heaps of it to Fiji, Samoa, The Solomon Islands, New Caledonia and Hawaii.  It acts as a mucle relaxer and something else I can't remember.  It was a major part of each nightly ritual.  
Our little pyro's dream life, fires (four in one room!) in the house!!  They were exceptional at building long lasting hot fires and they keep them going all night long.  The smoke works it's way out the woven ceilings.  Yes, it's hard to breath, but you're so darn tired sleep does come.
Big scary warrior!  This is John and his little boy.  Too gorgeous.  Or as they might say in Bislama, Gorgus tomas!

Jeremy was the only one to get this kind of VIP treatment!

This is our guide family.  Bart and boys with Vira, Mura, Donald (forward), Vitu (in blue), Alexi (Namba 1 Guide Leader) and Avo.  They were extremely helpful and carried ridiculous quantities of our stuff (most of it unnecessary!) up that trail.  Could not have done it without them.   

This was taken from the road looking up towards our destination.  Maracae is nestled somewhere behing those clouds on that furthest mountain top.  Boy was I excited!  (whatever!)

New Friends

In this first pic, Chris,a very nice young man innocently handed over the phone number to the resort he was headed to while we chatted at the airport.  Little did any of us know that we would end up being roommates!  We really enjoyed getting to know him and hearing about his diving adventures.  He had a knack for getting to know folks and always came back with  a new story on the interesting character he'd spent the afternoon chatting with.   Thanks for taking us in!  Remember, be careful who you talk to in the airport!


Pic number 2 is from left to right, Madison, Sadie, Julie and Jordan.  Julie is with the Peace Corp.  These are some of the family she was hosting during her break/vacation.  Her job as the only Peace Corp worker on her island is daunting but you can tell by her countenance that the sacrifice and challenge of it has it's reward.  It was great to get to know these guys a little bit.  Hope your travels continued safely and well.  Our best to Madison and Jordan in their studies and to Sadie and Grace (not shown) with those tough adolescent years!  

Number 3  is Maurine.  We got her as a birthday present for both boys!  They seemed very pleased and vied constantly for her attention.  She is a French foreign exchange student with a feisty personality that won these boys' hearts from the first time she warned them during the night games, "You scare.  I FIGHT!"  You can tell she comes from having two brothers!

Thank you Maurine for making the Vanuatu trip one they'll remember forever.  Or at least they'll remember YOU forever!  We hope you enjoy you last few weeks in Australia and that somewhere down the line we'll see you again.  

In the 5th pic you'll find the lady that forged the friendships in the very begining with all her raucous rounds of cards.  Elizabeth broke the ice for Maurine and the boys and then integrated everybody into the huge Scouting activity she had part in planning over the last 18 months.  Our guys felt part of the gang and made so many friends.  It was a spectacular time for them.  I am still not sure how she and the other scout leaders (she's pictured with key leader of the Vanuatu scouts, Calva (sp?) kept up the pace of it all.  There were activities daily including many of the local scouts.  They even built a flying fox!  My favorite memory will be the one of the scouts silhouetted against a huge bonfire next to the ocean at the Lonnoc bungalows and listening to them singing in the night.

This last photo looks all sweetsie but what the pic doesn't show is that moments before she purposely whacked him right on his sunburned back.  He's protecting himself and getting ready for the next attack!  Don't get me wrong.  Inspite of the pain he 's loving EVERY minute of it!  Hee, hee

Mud, Steamed Bananas and Naked Ladies (Part I)

Life hands us remarkable opportunities to learn and grow.  Sometimes the very thing that beckons for a blessing is the thing that fills our souls with dread.  So, even if you find yourself near tears at the thought of it you must pack your bags (and fears), gather your courage (along with as many snacks as can fit in your fannypack), put on your (sorta) smiley face and go.   The opportunity?  A four day, 3 night trek into a village called Maracae.  The blessing?  Well, read for yourself:

My gut told me that Bart's last minute plan to take a guided tour into the mountain rainforest to find the most primitive villages existing in the archipelago of Vanuatu was, though not altogether bad, going to be awful.   I am not proud to say that the little voice in his head that whispers, "Go where no (or at least, the fewer the better) man has gone before" was nearly attacked by the little guy on my shoulder screaming, "Are you crazy?!  What about a hot shower?  Feeding the kids?  Our safety? Drinking water?  Malaria? A bed?!!"  

Thankfully, my fearful cries were met with calm assurance that it would be a wonderful adventure of a lifetime.  So inspite of the sure knowledge that the boys and  I were doomed to suffer for 4 solid days (love that attitude, hee, hee) I climbed, of my own free will and choice,  right into the truck while the boys and Bart jumped in the back for a long ride out on a pot holed road over washed out bridges to the starting point of our trek to Maracae at the village of Namoru.

There we met our 6 porters who would come to know as:  Alexi, Our leader and "Namba one kide!", Vitu the Mt. Man and class clown, Maru, Pumpkin Man, who is originally from the village of Maracae and who would at one point on the last night show up in full "kastom" dress to make the kava for the evening like some warrior from the jungle (Did I detect a tinge of insecurity in my cute hubby when faced with such raw testosterone in his comment, "That Maru is quite the specimen."), Vira, who would become my quiet friend, always making an effort to translate, always there with a vice like grip supporting me across the rocks, Donald  and Avo singers of silly songs (I like to move it, move it!)and shepherds to their two younger followers, Riley and Jeremy, always taking to the front.   

After the intial awkward minutes of our first meeting, the shifting of gear to balance weight in the packs, hunting up a couple of extra packs for the village gifts of sugar, salt, tea, cigarettes and flour (basically our payment for staying the night) then trying to strap Bart's gigantic pack onto a little Vitu, we were off.  Little did we know how key these 6 boys were to our successful completion of this endeavor. 

For our barefoot locals it was a strenuous but typical effort leading to family and friends.  For two less than perfectly fit, slightly overweight grown ups it was akin to a last minute, poorly planned Grand Teton summit.  As for the solemn 14 year old it seemed another annoying yet tolerable life experience at the request of his parents which he would do his best to endure.  Our 11 yr old had put up quite a fuss originally but ultimately was more or less contented to  walk through the village, along the Wailapa river towards a world of mud, steamed bananas and naked ladies.

Why is that the title anyway?  There were loads of options, Vanuatu Vacation, Roughin' It in the Rainforest, Kastom Kulture, Lost on Vanuatu, Bare Breasts and Penis Sheaths (forgive me, but, yes, it was an option).   After the fact, am I that simple?  Those are the 3 points of major interest?  Hmmm, o.k.

After about 40 minutes it got dangerous.  Seriously.  The pleasant trail disappeared.  I was like an ignorant beast of burden following my leader.  Common sense told me we couldn't  continue on.  There was no path.  And then there I was, clinging to the face of a wall of rock that appeared abruptly.   The porter in front of me indicated the  tiniest outcrops for placing 1/2 a foot or a toe tip.  It was slick and wet.  I worried about my children, for like, 2 whole minutes.  To my surprise the job of  self preservation was a nice distractioin.  Plus, there was nothing I could do to help them.  We were clearly at the mercy of these 6 new people in our lives, the weather, the elements, and the villagers we were yet to meet.

From there on out much of the trip was about survival.  We gasped with each step up each mountain side (Who needs switchbacks?  Let's just go straight up!) and slipped our way down the back of it.  I found myself needing to reassure my knees and quads, "Don't worry.  When we get back I promise not to MOVE for a month!!"  I couldn't get enough water which was in short supply.  I was sooo thirsty most of that first day.    There were several places where we forged barefoot across the river.  Where it was possible to keep shoes on we hopped from rock to rock with the aid of helpful hands for support.   

I noted that being the "man" of our family Bart was more inclined to fall in the river.  It wasn't until after several such spills that he was able to swallow his "tough" guy pride and take the help offered him.  Who can blame him?  He's climbed mountains in Peru, repelled massive drops in  Kolob Canyon, summited the Grand Teton no less than 2 times, waded the Amazon river and forest (With his Mom, by the way!  You go Girl!!) and ridden (with absolutely NO previous training) his bicycle 2500 miles from Vancouver, Canada to Anchorage, Alaska.  Now he's supposed to allow himself to hold hands with a 24 year old Vanuatu boy (who is already carrying his backpack!) to cross a little river!!?  Are you kidding?  Nope.  In the end the blisters, bad back, sore knees and ruined camera won out for the more humble approach.  Good man Bart.  I love you.

So where was I?  This trip  of all trips.  The trip Bartman probably always dreamed of and I have certainly dreaded is now tucked deep in our hearts, tattooed on our muscles and bubbles away in our memory.  You'll see.  If you have time, keep reading.

Within 2 hours we arrived at the first of several villages we were yet to see, Jarakatui.  We quickly learned that during daylight hours most people were out in the gardens deep in the hillsides. It is custom to leave one or two men and a woman with the young children.  This is where we saw John.  Dressed in traditional thick woven belt with finely woven apron, he stood like a tall, dark, muscled soldier of the forest.  His hair was shorn except for one patch of 3 short braids at the crown.  He would have been extremely intimidating except for the green blankie holding a sweetly sleeping baby in his arms.  The gushy little smile he made looking down at her melted out hearts.  Fortunately, Bart got a great picture!  It's one we treasure.

Every bit as impressive, the Chief's Son acknowledged us then disappeared as we sat dripping in sweat, catching our breath and smiling and nodding while John and the woman and children in camp shyly eyed us.  We heard a whack, whack sound and looked at Alexi.  "He's cutting sticks for walking.  For you."  Within in 5 minutes he was back with a great walking stick for each of the 4 white people.  Man was he good with that machete!  I would have taken  hours hacking away to make something much less useful.  And it made all the difference.  From that moment our sticks were our best friends.  

The break was sweet but short.  Amazingly we were back on the trail and moving up another mountain side.  We passed the Natangora trees that are used for building the kastom houses.  The boys pointed out the Kava plant and the many different kinds of banana trees.  Maru climbed a gigantic Pomplemousse (a huge grapefruit) tree and dropped as many as he could reach or shake off.  The boys cut them into juicy quarters.  It was a deliciously refreshing treat.  (One that we could come to crave right up to the last minute before leaving to catch our flight home.)  The rainforest is thick with countless bushes, grasses, ground covers, trees and vines of all kinds.  I loved the purple flowers and the tall red ginger plants.  Once we stumbled on a mama goat and her twin kids.  Another time a cow tied to a tree.  There were a few pigs along the way as well.  Fortunately, no snakes.  

With the concentration on the work of climbing and dropping it was late in the hike on the first day before I took a moment to look back from the considerable elevation we had attained.  Oh my word.  It was incredible.  My eyes followed the glimpses of river shining down in the valley to the edge of the ocean filling the distant floor.  Floating in it but also somehow just above it was an island.  There was a misty element that suspended this mass of earth just about 1/2 mile off shore.  I hope there's a good pic of that.   It was pretty cool.

Finally we stopped for the night at the village of Tabunbotari  All I wanted was out of my shoes!!  After a good scrub in the creek it was time to meet the Chief Chaunbose.  He was tiny.  So skinny and shy.  He shook our hands, assigned us to a different hut and then mostly lay on his mat until time for the ceremony.  Soon the guides were busy preparing the kava by putting the peeled branches and roots through a meat grinder then mixing it with water, straining it and mixing it again ( it took till the 3rd day to see the whole process).  We were kept separate from the house where the the woman was cooking.  I asked the boys to tell her I would help do anything but she didn't want help to the point of seeming nonplussed at my asking so I happily took my weary bones off to sit on a bench in front of the hut while the boys killed some time till dinner playing cards.  We were awfully wet, tired, dirty and hungry.

"Number one rule.  You must have ceremony with Chief." Once the kava was prepared they brought it in a bucket with old mugs.  The chief gives a welcome speech (very short in order to get to the best part, gifts and kava).  Bart (I guess he would be considered our chief, hee, hee) then handed him the plastic bag loaded with goods.  Next, Chief Chaunbose gives Bart a mug of kava.  Bart drinks it.  Everyone claps.  Then the boys each get one.  They drink it one by one and everyone claps.  Then  Bart hands a mug to the Chief.  He drinks it.  Everyone claps.  Last, the boys and Bart hand out mugs to the guides.  They drink, one by one.  Everyone claps.  Got it?  Drink, clap.  Drink, clap.  That's a kastom kava ceremony.  Very romantic.  It happened similarly without fail every night.  After a couple of rounds we would be welcomed to stay or ushered to a hut for sleeping.  At one point I learned that Alexi typically drinks 35 shells of kava when he's working as a guide.  He told me, "I feel soo happy when I drink kava".  The boys said it tastes like dirty water and gives you a tinny taste in your mouth.  Later I confirmed my suspicions with a ward member that kava is completely off limits for Mormons.  Ooops.  Just between you and me, I am glad I didn't know for sure.  One morning I was the only one sick while the boys and Bart were healthy as ever.  We wondered if a shell of kava would have done me good!

Actually, a valium probably would have been more suitable for the first night.  All I remember of the sleeping part (o.k. the WISHING you were asleep part) was the hard dirt floor, a pervasive dampness, acrid smoke from 4 fires burning through the night and the quiet talk of the guides in Bislama as they lay cherishing the last puffs on their rationed cigarettes.  All night we woke from the pain of joints screaming for relief from the weight of our bodies.  I felt like a pig being roasted on a spit as made half turns that brought comfort for a moment and then the pain again.  It was a very looong night.

But let's not skip dinner shall we.  Here I take my hat off to our two boys.  When our meal arrived in a big metal pot and the lid was removed  to reveal soggy steamed bananas and cooked cabbage leaves they dug right in!  My boys ate bananas wrapped in wilted lettuce.  It was unnatural and wrong but they acted as if it was a weekly occurrence.  I heard not one complaint.  We all ate what we could and commented on the fact that it wasn't too bad.  No problem.  Thank you very much.  There may also have been some cooked taro.  I don't remember.  Just think bland and starchy and you'll have it.  I am happy to say that although the kastom village cuisine we encountered wasn't all extremely delicious (except for the Su Sut (squash with ginger and coconut milk) and the Lap Lap (crushed yams, taro or manioc steamed in leaves), oh, and the Naura (crayfish) which I was too ill to eat on that particular morning) it was all edible.

So you may be wondering about the naked ladies.  If you don't mind, I'll stop here for awhile and download a few pics.  How about Part II tomorrow?  Same time?  Same place?