Is My Blogger Broken?

I like to write. I like to talk. You could say that I like communicating, Period. Then why do I feel so shut down sometimes? It's like my blogger button is broken and nothing can trigger that part of my brain that can put the words down for any reason. Even for you. And you deserve a blog. You read this and then you leave me little notes and make my day. I want to give it to you. But, my blogger is broken.

Even my Face Booker is broken. I can get a comment or two out. Maybe send a message. I check in as often as I can force myself to sign on. And I love to read you updates and bit and pieces. I feel your energy and it boosts my desire to give back.

Maybe some times in our lives just aren't meant for as much connection?
Maybe what we are doing requires enough emotional and physical stamina that at the end of the day or even at the beginning of it, there is not enough energy to pump out meaningful prose.

Or is it simply a matter of priority? Maybe my life isn't in order enough to be a blogger?

It's probably just because I don't have access to pictures that tell or at least initiate the story of our lives. There's no picture of the hotel in Virginia that we lived in for two weeks after we moved out of our unfurnished house so that the renters could move in. Poor Bart lived in a dumpy hotel for nearly 4 months!

There are lots of pictures of the trip cross country that took us 6 days of driving through Ohio, Chicago, Wisconsin, South Dakota, Wyoming and home to Heber. We saw the Badlands and Crazy Horse, Mt Rushmore, the Wall Drugstore. We even spent a night in Ohio with Bart's sister and her family then did a quick tour of the Dayton Airforce Museum which is unbelievable. Unfortunately, I haven't yet figured out how to get to them.

Somewhere in this computer are pictures of the babies I tended with my friend who runs daycare in her home. They were adorable and it made my life so sweet to spend time with the littlies and be with my sweet friend. I think I actually could adopt a child if we could ever settle down. LIke one friend says, "The loving is the easy part." It so was. I fell in love with those darling faces.

There's not one shot of the boys or my mom or Lynette or Barabara painting our huge garage off the house. It took forever. I even rented a scissor lift and had a lovely time scooting all over the palce and elevating myself to the highest heights at the push of a button. My aunt's boyfriend in California who is a professional painter suggested I buy myself a grinder. So I did. And I grinded the paint off every inch of trim. It was hot and long but we did it. It was gray. Now it's green with cream trim. Very pretty. I'll probably repaint the whole thing next year though as I tend to be finicky when it comes to color committments!

I wish I had a picture of the flood too. In May the house in Idaho flooded to the tune of nearly $40,000 worth of damage, all 3 floors. Ceilings were torn out along with all the carpet in the basement, all the hardwood hickory Bart installed himself 3 yrs ago, walls that I had painstakingly faux painted. A ton of the nutty alder trip was ripped out as well. Then I would put a picture right next to all that of my friend Stephanie who stepped in to organize the repair of it all. She managed the entire project in a way we couldn't have done ourselves even if we had been there, which we weren't. And Australia is far away. Feels even further when something like that happens. Then I would have to put in a plug for Barb who set up the cleaning company coming and Bro. Bell who figured out how to turn off the water and Sis. Frei who actually who just happened to be doing her RS visit to the new renter and found the water streaming down the living room windows! And lets not forget Belinda, the renter, putting up with all of that mess for 2 months!!

On a more pleasant note I would love to get the picture from my mother in law of all the cousins doing their homework together. My two boys and Bart's sister's kids were happily studying away after school one day. All at the same table, helping each other out. So cute. They have been getting so well. It is a joy to see. We have a great routine here and the cousins make it all easier.

Speaking of cousins they're leaving right now. So, I am signing off. Hope my blogger heals quickly!

Patrick Inn Penn

So, we're doing some hard time here at the Patrick Inn Penn. Hard to tell sometimes whether you're being blessed or cursed!! (laugh loudly here) Not that it matters since it's all for our good but wow. There's no fridge, microwave, couch, x box (sad faces). There are no neighbors to serve, no friends to laugh with, no way to make cookies!!
We need a purpose, something do do that is meaningful. What a reminder of how important each and every moment of each and every day is and that being "anxiously engaged in good works" has much more to do with our own well being than anyone else's.

We manage to keep busy for much of the day but then wind up watching tv for the rest of it. There are so many interesting things to watch. Did you know there's a channel about Buddy, a baker in Hobokan, NJ? He's a genius! We watched him make a life size dinosaur out of pound cake, chocolate, a ton of Royal Frosting and some powdered food coloring. The most amazing was watching him make the boiling water for his "Take the Plunge" cake ( a huge cake pot with lobsters poised to jump into the hot water, sculpted out of chocolate and corn syrup clay dressed to look like the bride and groom!!) by pouring some isomalt syrup over a bag of actual ice. It hardened to look like frothy water!

And, had you any idea that there are gangs running rampant in Nashville, Tennessee? Brown Pride is one of the leading groups. Lately they have fought with a one out of El Salvador. El Gordo, the BP king pin laughed as talked about gunning down his threat whenever and wherever he possibly could. They stake claims to the alleys all over the city. Tennesse has the loosest gun laws in the country making the violence between rival groups that much more serious. Lacy and Brett, be careful!! On a lighter note, Bart and Riley were thrilled to watch the BYU game. They played somebody in red uniforms and it was close. Sounds like BYU won mostly because the opposing team lost their quarterback (Heisman trophy winner dude) so lucky them. Grandpa Packer might have other thoughts on that. (chuckle here) Bart did suggest that they had some great plays earlier in the game and that, had they actually gained the points from them, would have given the Y a good chance at winning as well. Since, according to Bart's explanation, he loathes BYU except for when they are playing someone besides the U it's hard to see why he would be defending their play or hooting and hollering over their successes or moaning over their mistakes. Hate to say it honey, but you LOOK like a fan. Sorry.

I am certain my family and I have lost more precious brain cell function in the past 3 days than a veteran heavy weight does in his entire boxing career!! It's like this tv magnet has pulled us in and every day we have to tear ourselves away. We can watch that thing till late into the night and still have to force ourselves to push that little red button on the remote.

My version may be a tidge over the top. Don't get me wrong. Sunday Bart took us to Chesapeake for the day where we crossed a 17 mile stretch of bridge and tunnels over and under the sea, had a gorgeous lunch at a hole in the wall restaurant called Sting Ray. Yesterday we went to the movies, and not just any trip to the movies either. We saw All About Steve at this theater where you order food and then wait for them to bring it to you during the show. The food was pretty bad but the movie was entertaining.
And, it is nice to be together even if we are going a little stir crazy. Poor Jeremy has resorted to kick flips on his skateboard, inside (groan). Thank goodness it's Tuesday. Bart is back at work so there's one less person to fight over the remote!!

Kelli and boys

Early AM Surprise!

I am on the Wildlife Ambo (Ambulance) rotation this week.  It's been very quiet.  We responded to a call to pick up a lorikeet with a 'broken' wing, which happily flew away the following morning, hee, hee.  I mean it wasn't the nicest take off of a wild bird I have ever seen but he was air born!  There was also a lady with a snake in her yard, the woman who had found a puppy without a collar.  We don't "do" snakes or puppies so, yeah, kinda boring.  You just throw them a few numbers of others who handle that stuff.      Yesterday morning that all changed.   I answered the phone ringing me out of a sweet, deep sleep.  ( We handle all calls between 5 pm and 8 am)I heard a man's alarmed voice informing me,  "I have two koalas in my house!  I have no idea how they got in but there's one in the lounge and one in my boy's bedroom!"  

Sure enough, we found a gorgeous, fat healthy koala sitting quite comfortably on the lounge room floor and another in a back bedroom between the wall and the bed.  At home in the lovely  and tidy house,  unflustered by the excitement they had caused, they treated the space like their own place happy to leave their doo doos on the floor.  The owners were quite accommodating as it is spectacular to see a  koala in the wild much less have one visit in your own house, oh, and the fact that they can rip your insides out with those claws is another great reason to let them have their way!

As you can see, we gathered them up and set them on the other side of the fence where they happily escaped up trees!  That sounds and looks SO much easier than it was.  Thanks to my capable companion, Stephanie, who orchestrated our rescue and release plan all went smoothly, never mind that the koala nets are ripped to shreds!  It's a true adrenalin rush to have hold of a bagged koala thrashing wildly and grunt screaming for it's life!!  I like to think they were grateful in their own way.  We were sure thrilled to be a part of returning them to familiar ground.

Bart was disappointed to have been out of town.  Poor guy.  He's my true wild man and would have loved it.  If he had been here, though, I would have been faced with a real test of my courage, 7 young men and 3 young women in SEMINARY!  Hee, hee.  All kidding aside, I couldn't help but find myself comparing the challenges of each setting.  Hmmm, teaching the scriptures to teenagers at 6:50 am, manhandling wild koalas?  Hmmmm, it's a tough choice depending on the day and their moods!

Serendipity or Something Else?

So I have been at it again.  "It" is addiction.  Yup, I eat sugar till I'm sick on a regular basis.  It's not necessary to convince any of you of the damage this has done to my life.  I  know it.  That's all that matters.  Because I know it, I will never give up seeking freedom from it. 

Last week was another "first week off" from sugar.  It was bad, in so many ways!  I offended so many people.  One of them was my sweet little seminary gal.  We'll call her Surfer Girl.  So, to be honest, Surfer Girl is one of our least well behaved students (she has admitted this herself though I am quite sure reading the truth would be a different thing!).  No matter that she is a senior, and our class president, and totally delightful and responsible in sooo many ways.  (If you're reading this SG, you know it's true!), she can really push your buttons ( you know that's true too, sweetie), if you know what I mean.  So far I have happily maintained a sense of love and affection for her.  If she came in stomping her feet and declaring that she hated seminary I didn't take it personally.  When  she rolled out her homework and ignored my efforts at the lesson I could calmly choose to address it or ignore it depending on the day.   Her declarations of "This is stupid" while we attempt to get a good ole Scriptury Mastery game going received mostly patient corrections on my part.  

Not true for last week.  At one point she gave me a wicked little smirk and asked, "So, is SOMEONE having a bad day?" when she noticed my distress at not being able to find a game piece for the activity I had spent hours preparing.  It seemed obvious to my deranged and addicted mind that she meant it as a jab.  She seemed thrilled knowing that I was stressing out.  I quickly offered that I would be happy to find her a place in someone else's class.  Mmmmmhmmm!  That's right baby.  I stuck it to her.  Gave her back a little of her own medicine.  She had it coming, right?!

So why did I feel so stupid?  How come I thought about her off and on for days afterwards? And I wonder why, after that, she seemed like my little enemy instead of my dear little Surfer Girl? I was sure she hated me.  All respect was thrown out the window (the addict in me is VERY  dramatic, hee, hee)!  I had damaged our relationship beyond repair, blah, blah, blah.  

A little voice inside my soul whispered, "It's going to be o.k."  "Everyone has a bad day."   Oh, and lest I forget, "You do need to apologize."  So I set my heart on talking to her but wondered how I would find the opportunity.  Should I speak to her face to face?  Call her on her phone?  Text her?  Email her?  I wasn't sure how big or small the apology should be or what I should say.  All I knew was that I had some cleaning up to do.  

Wouldn't you know it?  Sunday.  We're sitting in church.  At one point into the meeting Jeremy leaves to the restroom.  Riley is already in the back monitoring the door as the 14 year old boys do so I am left alone.  Late and scurrying in a hurry, here comes the valuable moment for which I have been hoping.  Surfer Girl and her mom plop down in my row.  It's never happened before.

It took me about 30 seconds to write out the short apology on the back of my used grocery list. Basically I reminded her of what I had said and told her that I loved her and that the truth was I would miss her terribly if she were not in our class.  I meant it from the bottom of my heart.  Her response?  Pretty typical.  There was a lot of "Ha, ha, ha" and a "I don't even remember that." but then there was the important part, "I forgive you."

More than serendipity is my vote.  I count it as one more small but powerful miracle in my life.  

By the way, Surfer Girl was the rockin' best she has ever been in seminary today ( mostly because she's done with her assignments!).  I think she'll change the world!!  She's that cool!

Barely Bloggin

I have just spent far too much of my sacred sleeping hours browsing blogs.  Am I the only one that gets sucked into checking out catchy titles of unknown bloggers?  Before I know it I am bonding with strangers.  It's actually very fun but stressful.  I thing it's the rational little voice persistently urging me to, um, doy, GO TO BED!!  You don't now these people.  You never will.  They don't care and neither should you.  Go be productive.

So to all of you that I already know and love, thank you for your posts.  I will continue to indulge in delightful moments of reading all about anything you have to say or looking at any picture you choose to upload.  As for the rest, sorry dudes, I got a life to live  you know.  I'll miss you but sometimes we just have to say good bye.  It's for the best.  You'll see.

Goodnight.

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?

Worms, Cool Baby and Eli Creek on Fraser.

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More Fraser Pics

FRASER ISLAND IN WRITING

Combine the spirit of adventure with a dose of ignorance and what do you get?  Three adults,  2 teens and a 15 month old baby humming three hours down the road  towards a  4 x 4 beach camping weekend at Fraser Island.  Once you're on board the Inskip barge it's only 15 minutes to Hook Point.  They almost stop to let you off!   

There's a very teensy window of opportunity for accessing this spot on the beach for the return trip.  We should have paid a little more attention to that.  It wouldn't occur to us till much later, in fact, too late.  But, no worries, we were on our way up the Eastern Beach.  It was 75 miles of straight sand and shore line.  All we had to do was find our camp site, unload, set up tents and a kitchen and "Wa la!", play time!

After two hours of getting stuck, "Are we there yet?",  singing songs to our cranky baby, picking a spot on the map only to find it's "not quite right", nearly getting lost on and inland road, wondering if we had lost Baby and Mom when they wandered off for a gander of the Champagne Pools while Bart and I used the lovely outhouses, eating ham sandwiches and all the apples and oranges Liz prepared and packed we did choose and plant ourselves in a wonderful spot near the turn off for Ocean Lake.  

That's when the real work began.  Bart had to go back for water so that left me and the boys who, as lovely as they are, aren't the most industrious duo in town, to set up camp.  Riley was practically running the engineering of the tent for about 4 whole minutes then quickly lost interest.  Jeremy, well, he has perfected the craft of avoiding work so I don't even remember what he was supposed to do or why he didn't do it.   Past experience would tell me he was testing out the closest dune on his boogie board.  If you're a camper you already know we were in trouble with one person trying to put it all together and an evening meal lurking right around the corner.

I always forget that it's dark in the blink of an eye when you're out camping.  The minute you notice the sun going down, it's over.  So of course, it's dinner prep under the light of our decidedly wimpy lantern.  It takes a certain mindset to feed people when you have no table or cupboards or drawers or refrigerator or sink of any kind, one that, sadly, I was not in.  Let's just say it was a bit of a grump that pulled that meal off.   Not my proudest moment, but I must say that I got a lot more help the next day!

After all that whinging (aussie for whining) you might think that I didn't notice the gorgeous full moon that made the weak light of the lantern much more tolerable, the silver glow of the curling wave tops on the ocean, the cool sea breeze, the bird's talk out in the woods, the baby's laugh as the boys tickled and teased him,  the suspense of possible dingo's in camp or  my sister's quiet voice calming her little one in the night.  It's a special place and no amount of inconvenience, travel stress, ill preparation or bad mood could ruin a camping trip with my family on the world's largest sand island.

You may be wondering about that oversight that I foreshadowed earlier.  Yup, we missed the ferry.  The trip to the largest perched (meaning above ground water) lake called Boojerim set us back a good hour, just enough to make the point impassable because of high tide.  It meant a last minute new camp selection and set up by headlights.  Somehow we  scraped together leftovers and some cans of soup for dinner in mugs that we washed (never leave your dirty dishes for later!!) with 1/2 C of hot water.  Everyone worked together this time and it went quick and easy.  If not for the dew that soaked every single thing we left out and the surprise and very secret visit by the dingos it would hardly have been worth mentioning!  Oh and the fact that Bart HAD to make a conference call the next morning.  

I hope you enjoy the pictures up above.  They should be pretty self explanatory.  Since I haven't chosen them yet I can't exactly explain them all to you.  I do know there will be one of large worms.  They are elusive and practically impossible to catch so we were pretty proud of Bart who mastered the technique and Riley who spent hours on his knees in the surf to make his first big worm pull!  

Well, it's back to the dishes, getting the boys to bed (yup, they still like  the  "process" of it even if it is just family prayer, a bit of a chat, a hug and a kiss and turning their fans on) and winding down myself.

I love the exercise of blogging. It's good for me to spend the time giving literary life to the experiences of my life.  This is me thanking you for reading it.  If you didn't I wouldn't.      

That was funny.  Bart and me and baby (Let poor Liz get some sleep after a very long cold night holding him in the car) edging onto the beach at high tide desparate to get up the shore to where there might be a pay phone.  Amazingly we did find a phone.  Bartman had the exhilirating experience of a phone call to the main office in the states on a public telephone in the middle of nowhere.  He would talk for 10 second and the ZZZZZZZZZZZ the line would go dead, out of money.  Basically he had to pop change in every few seconds to keep the conversation going.  All to find out that the conference call had been changed to another day!!  Ha!  The best part was realizing that the bakery  was getting an early start on the day.  She agreed to serve us so we returned to camp as heros with our call accomplished  and bearing goodies of muffing, eclairs, and toasted ham/cheese croissants.  Mmmmm.  Nice.

Mommy Moment

Hey again. Yeah, I recovered from my one whole day of babysitting darling, dimpled, diaper man. We all survived. Liz was anxious to be back to her little one. He was thrilled to find her in her bed where she belonged this morning and I was relieved to be able to hand the reins back to my gorgeous sister. Watching her mother her sweet toddler through his breakfast and morning mischiefs I felt overwhelmed with love for this amazing woman. She possesses a remarkable strength for it. She is physically strong, easily lugging his 30 + pounds all over the place. Her spirit is strong. She loves enthusiastically with kisses and smiles and hugs. Somehow she knows all the tricks for appeasing his demanding personality without spoiling him rotten. It leaves me wondering what sort of mother I was. Was I cheerful? Did my boys have the slightest idea how much I love them? Oh well, it's never too late. I can't hardly lift them a centimeter off the floor these days. They would just as soon spend the night away from me with a friend much less cry "Mama" when they think of me and realize I am not there. Most of the time I get the rolling eyes if I want to "talk" about anything too serious. But...every night they want me to tuck them in and kiss them. I still feel that tender, eternal connection that a mother has for her child and I know that their young souls need that. I hope they always will. I know I will.

As a finale note, can I confess that at long last, after nearly 10 years, I am grateful I don't have a uterus.

Whew!

He's in bed. Sound asleep as far as I can tell.  

Will someone please tell me how anyone survives small children? How do you clean your teeth, make meals, keep up with laundry, fulfill church callings, have friends, read the sriptures, grocery shop, make your bed, work outside the home, volunteer in the schools and community, sleep and keep your marraige alive through the hours and hours that demanding little ones are awake?!! In the last couple of hours I have managed to feed him, put the dishes away, feed him some more, do (or should I say, help baby do) sommersaults, follow him around the porch while he pulled rocks out of the owner's potted plants, play with him in an empty tub, help him play in the kitchen sink, get him a drink or two, feed him some more, change his diaper, change his clothes, read him a story, sing him songs, put warm pants on him for his nap, put him in his crib, take him out into the kitchen to see if he needs a drink (nope, just wanted out) and finally settle him (or should I say quietly leave him screaming) in his little bed for a nap. Whew! Just about 8 more hours till Mama gets home, but who's counting?!!

Been Busy!!

It's been a wonderful time entertaining my sister Liz and her little Bennett.  We have been to the Ginger Factory for a rainy day of treats, train ride and a short themed boat ride.  Then we made it out to  Wellington Point just in time for an unbelieveable gorgeous sky.  Afterwards we went out for a real Aussie Burger (just throw on a slice of beetroot, an egg, and a big piece of middle rasher(bacon).  There was a lovely morning of park time where Liz and Bennett battled with sticks and  rode the swing.  Our life is better than ever, filled with the joy of baby talk and raisens and sippy cups.