bri weaves

Attn: Lovely ladies of Lexington, and beyond

2011-12-19T11:03:00.000-08:00

I’m just going to throw another odd bone out there and see what bites. I’ve got an idea, first aimed at my fellow massage school mates, but actually I’d love to share it with others. I notice that while I am FAR from mature-perfected-confident in any massage modalities, I do have strong body mechanics and I fully attribute them to my long-gone belly dancing days.

I never was or will be some flowing, undulating dance goddess, by a long shot, but six years of dancing did teach me a lot. It took me a very long time to find my core/stance/base/what-have-you in bellydance, but once I did I was entirely changed; physically and mentally I became far more solid, as well as movable (like bone and muscle!) Once I had that tool I was able to progress as a dancer without pain. I hear too often that massage therapists (though it can be any profession really) quit after just a few years due to overwork and/or bodily injury. I imagine much of this is not overworking our bodies but misusing our bodies. Of course they are teaching us to use our bodies correctly in school, which is wonderful, but I have an idea to start a bit of a group anyhow. I am not a teacher or master at bellydance, (or nutrition or farming for that matter!) but just someone with some experience I’d love to share to anyone who’s interested. I have no ego or issues about what LHAA is teaching us, just throwing out there that if anyone wants to spend some more time working on their core, and have fun learning some dance moves and stretches, maybe we should get together! Art, dance, massage, cooking, they are all so similar-we can be given the toolbox, but what we will actually create with them is by far the most challenging, and most rewarding point in the journey of our various practices. I don’t intend to teach anyone to bellydance, but I can teach what I have learned from my years dancing about how to hold the body correctly, and move. Just as Anne keeps telling us-massage is a practice, not a perfection, and while I can find my core I need practice staying in it while focusing on someone else’s body.

This is not some kind of selfless act or anything, don’t get me wrong. As winter approaches and I no longer live on a farm, my days are spent more and more indoors and in cars and not moving my body. It’s so silly how much time we spend finding ways to “justify” our greatest passions because we don’t have time and obviously can live without them. The excuses get me through the days, and life is truly wonderful right now, but priorities are in constant flux, and movement is high on the list again. It may be nuts to try to add this to my week, but heck, I loved to dance once, surely the time I make for it will in fact increase the beauty of my days, which is a desire far greater than to have more hours. I, not unlike most people, find it’s much easier to get motivated for an exercise class, even if I already know what it entails, than to do it alone at home.

My house would be a great place to start as there are two large un-rented rooms. Some mirrors would help, but we can certainly work without them. Since this is geared towards my classmates I’d say getting sweaty before a Fundamentals class would be less than ideal, and we have a test to cram for for nearly every Anatomy class, so maybe before any “other” classes, like Ethics? I’m generally off work at 3 weekdays, so a 4-5 sort of thing may work, or even 4:30-5:30. Weekends are a possibility too, though I’m guessing anyone from out of town isn’t going to make an extra trip. I also have the totally geeky ulterior motive of using this as a study opportunity! Maybe it’s a long shot, but I’m sure we can talk in muscles, bones and movements when describing stretches and dance moves.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m writing this to women only, not to be exclusive, but to respect a rare space for us. I’ve taught and attended classes both ways and it’s truly remarkable how differently women behave and feel with merely one man in the room versus none. While we all enjoy the bountiful holiday meals and family time, mull over this and maybe we can kick off the new year with some dance!

belated updating

2011-12-09T14:07:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, it’s been forever again since I’ve written. But I am keeping busy. Sadly the UK CSA season is over and I spend most days indoors, fast becoming a pansy in the cold. It’s one of the most difficult adjustments, though there are many, this whole being indoors all the time thing. It feels so unnatural, so small. My eyes haven’t had to see beyond the distance of a few blocks in far too long. I miss the space on a farm, and being able to see such great distances, across the landscape during the day, into the sky at night. But, complaints aside, “home” is the often intangible, but very real place I have built with Josh, and the infrastructure grows more solid by the day. Ever tried to put a nail into an old barn door? Very difficult, that’s the strength I’m talking about. Forgive the ogling, I’m just so freaking happy with him.

Though we have left the country, we have not left our homesteading education and continue to practice every day; for the health of our bodies and the savings in our pocket books. We’ve begun getting real milk again and are turning a gallon a week into butter, yogurt, cheese, and maybe a cup or two of cocoa. I’m trying to move away from refined sugars and gluten, but that’s a story for later. Our greatest success lately has been an incredible batch of super spicy kimchi and a very beety batch of sauerkraut from produce from the farm. I absolutely love making this stuff, and raving about its healing properties, but I’m preaching to myself as much as anyone because I have such a difficult time eating it. The kimchi is too spicy for me to eat, just a sniff makes me cough, and though kraut makes me feel amazing, it’s still such a foreign taste! My days of living solely off of mac n cheese, cheerios and bread are long gone, but that comfort with blandness still defines so many of my food preferences (I have found home style mac n cheese to be a great canvas for the sauerkraut, by the way) I’m just a ways behind Josh, who will eat any fermented product alone by the forkful. He started another three crocks of much milder kraut the other day, just for me, so I’ll have to get into that soon.

The majority of my time is not spent in our kitchen, but at school and work. For the few that don’t know, I’m studying to be a Licensed Massage Therapist at LHAA. And I’m very much enjoying it! I’ll have to write more on it another time, but I will say it’s amazing how something I had no plans for turned out to work so well for me. As for work, well yes I do have a town job, no need to run on about how it’s going; once you’ve worked for yourself anything less is pretty disappointing. While chatting with my mom awhile back about said job and its annoyances I told her it was like she raised us kids to be continuously discontent, and she said, “Well, yea!” And, realizing it was silly to complain about having the ability to understand you’re worth something, I had to thank her. She expressed similar feelings about her job before starting her own business, and has since turned into a serial entrepreneur, as well as “totally unemployable” Ha, so great, I’ve got this wellspring of pride and desire to do great things, just not the cash flow to get them started. Well, hopefully it’s only a year until I can really get some big bites taken out of my loan debt. Josh and I are tracking our income and expenses religiously, with the guidance of Your Money or Your Life. We stay afloat and keep up, but getting ahead-actually towards something (land!)-will take time and greater income. So I am very much looking forward to being an LMT. Graduation is December 2012, inshallah, so we will be living in Lexington at least until then.

This blog will go back to being written from my perspective, not from our business, but a word on Josh now anyhow. He’s is doing very well too! He has been hired on for research work in the six high tunnels at the same farm as the UK CSA. He’s also in the process of applying for the Teach Kentucky program, which is majorly exciting, and so fitting.

That’s all the blathering I can muster for today, maybe I’ll update again soon, maybe not. I hope you all are well, enjoyed Thanksgiving and look forward to more holidays.

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Final Issue

2011-09-08T13:38:00.000-07:00

Naturally grown food for those dear

Potting On

Dear friends, family, customers, and supporters,

“Potting on” is the term gardeners use when moving a small transplant to a bigger container. “Transplanting” is moving from a container to the ground, a most exciting event. Potting on can be tedious and seemingly without purpose; why would you want to move to another temporary, limited container, when you could move into the ground? Where you can expand your roots to your heart’s content, meet others, find companions that help you ward off pests, and fulfill your greatest aspirations? To grow up, produce flowers, get pollinated, produce seeds and pass on your snazzy genetics, then die peacefully on the ground, your decaying body providing rich and necessary nutriment for your children and the whole of your community. Yes, plants are amazing.

I may take this metaphor too far, but yes, potting on is what Josh and I are doing. Moving from one temporary situation to another, to fill out that space, and grow ready for the great leap onto real, solid ground. Ground which will be, to people anyway, our own. We have realized this over the past months; while our CSA totally kicks ass, living in a tipi is fun, and working in exchange for rent is alright, this is not the way to get where we really want to be. There are many paths you can take to become a farmer, and at the beginning of this year I believed I could do it by part-time farming, part-time sucky town job. And now I realize that is not the way I want to become a farmer. Another way is to not farm for awhile, but work and save money until you have enough to begin. It’s the advice we have been given by every farmer we actually look up to (Wendell Berry, Susana Lein, Carl Benson, to name a few), but somehow always thought we could do it without that seemingly lame work.

We’ve got the experience, we know that we want to produce food and how, we just need the funds to begin. And there is work out there that we enjoy that isn’t farming and that we could maintain even after we begin the simple life again in the country. Quite randomly, and without knowing I’d just lost (thankfully) my waitressing job, and on my birthday, a good friend of ours who manages the huge UK Certified Organic CSA in Lexington, offered both Josh and I jobs. Spending all day with friends and getting paid to farm? Heck ya! So apparently we can keep our hands in the ground while making money. This job only runs until mid, November, but with other opportunities in Lexington, we’ve decided to move there for at least the next few months.

Unfortunately, though we had planned to begin this venture after completing our CSA season, circumstances have changed and we have departed much sooner. Our last week of distribution was this past one, 15 amazing weeks, and we are so thankful for everyone we have come to know through it. Since our housing situation is in flux, we may not be back in Corinth for Kokofriendzy, but we aren’t far! We may have departed the farm, but we aren’t departing the relationships we’ve made. We hope you all are well into your fall plantings, enjoying freshly dug potatoes, dry beans and just dying for the sunflowers to mature up those seeds, we certainly are! We are ever grateful for our customers and their excitement about their diverse baskets, as well as their patience with our shortcomings (like paste tomatoes) as well as our annoying abundances (like cucumbers). We are heartbroken to leave our beautiful garden, but know the next one will be even better (and hopefully permanent!) Since we’ll be living in a city again, we have no “no reception” excuse and even Josh will be available via cell. On the same note, if you happen to have any wicked cheap housing connections in Lexington let us know (we are in a sweet, but temporary situation now, and are on a ridged search for something longer term)!

This will be the last installment of our CSA newsletter, but you can keep updated via my blog, and email me if you’d like to receive personal updates we might send out as well.

Much love and huge hugs to you all,

Bri & Josh

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 7

2011-08-04T08:01:00.000-07:00

August 2, 2011
Naturally grown food for those dear

Kokofriendzy!

Hello sweaty fellows. We have been enjoying a significant siesta most days, while the garden either flourishes or founders in this heat. Squash bugs, vine borers, cabbage worms and flea beetles have certainly won many battles, but due to our diversity we still have a garden. Borers are the worst by far; taking entire squash plants, including my beloved Blue Hubbards. After a glorious three-day weekend in Louisville to visit Josh’s parents and many friends, the garden was a bit depressing. The summer squash, despite all our surgical efforts to save it, still wants to consume paths and scratch our legs up, some vermin of the night has been stealing our most perfect tomatoes and leaving them half-eaten in the path.
Just as I was plotting my late-night ambush of said suspected vermin, Josh arrived from the island garden with the sweet scent of our first melon. Beautiful, deep orange flesh, and superbly sweet. As if that weren’t enough to brighten my day, we decided to grabble potatoes. A few minutes later we un-hayed a nice harvest of Chieftan (pink) and Purple Viking new potatoes. Sautéed to a crisp in lard, mm, nothing like it. Not only cheering me in the taste category, the garden has amazed me in her ability to face other pests, weather and other difficulties of summer. The cucumber plants look sad, but still produce enough to fill a four gallon crock of pickles twice per week (if we had the space to make that many), the tomatillos have split branches due to our insufficient trellising, but are still laden with deep purple fruit, and the parsnips act as if it weren’t 40degrees above their most tolerable climate. And I could never walk into a garden with towering sunflowers and not smile. If this is to be the worst month of the season, I’ll still take it.
Before I lose your attention I better explain the headline, Kokofriendzy! The farm we live on, Kokovoko, is owned by Leslie Bebensee and Kokofriendzy is her annual farm party. This year is extra special as it is also her mortgage burning party! This is her 22nd year here, and Josh and my’s 1st, but we still hope to have a few of you over to celebrate as well. This will be neither tame nor uptight, so don’t come if you’re either. Anyone planning on drinking is welcome (or forced) to camp out. BYOB, a dish to share, something to sleep on or in, a water bottle, and of course, RSVP beforehand. This will be a good time for those that haven’t to see the garden, but you are also welcome any other time too. We are hoping for a special CSA’s end harvest get-together in October-ish (?) as well, but I’ll send more info on that as the season winds down.
Now onto tangible goodies, for those near, we do have plenty of pickles available, $5 a pint. Let us know what kind you like as we have both mild and sour batches. Another round of sauerkraut is in the crock now and it’s $7 a pint. We have also been trying our hands at pesto - not a lacto fermented product, but certainly delicious, available for $7 a half pint. The pesto ingredients are as follows: homegrown basil, homegrown garlic, olive oil, parmesan, walnuts. We make it fresh and then freeze it so it will be good thawed in the fridge for a week or two (though no good pesto should be left uneaten for more than a day-it’s too delicious to resist!) We enjoy it tossed on pasta or on bread with fresh tomato, tossed with roasted new potatoes, it’s pretty much like butter, just put it on anything. And don’t forget you get $1 off your next jar of anything if you bring your old jar back. Also on the inventory – beef! Today we had a beautiful Jersey steer slaughtered on the farm, and in two weeks we will have far more meat than we can fit in our freezer. He was grass fed here at Kokovoko, and even the butcher assures us Jersey meat is the most flavorful, even when compared to traditional beef breeds. The price will be determined after he is hung, but if you are interested in a half or any particular cuts, please let us know!

That’s all I’ve got for now, hoping for a cool week!

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 6

2011-08-02T07:04:00.000-07:00

July 11, 2011

Naturally grown food for those dear

Fermentation edition!

Before I get around to all the exciting live cultures getting jiggy in our crocks, some CSA news. The baskets are growing every week and we hope you’re all enjoying your vegetables. This week will include your first share of Benning’s Green Tint Patty Pan Squash and Romanesco Zucchini. The Mexican Sour Gherkin or Mouse Melon is also catching up to the cucumbers and ready for harvest. They look exactly like a watermelon for the mouse household but taste like a slightly sour cucumber. Broccoli is coming along nicely despite the heat. You may have noticed that the broccoli looks a bit different from what you’re used to! This is intentional. The variety is Piricicaba and is bred to produce many small, tender shoots. The standard supermarket broccoli head is bred for that one ginormous cutting. We have ceased including herbs such as dill and mint; we still have them available but will put them in baskets by request only. We also have horse radish available upon request.

Since I’ve gotten inquiries I’d like to let everyone know we have one available share left for the season. Distribution would begin the week of July 17^th and run 14 weeks; at $25 per week that will make a total of $350. Let us know if you’re interested!

And now, onto fermentation! The pickles that we put in the CSA baskets last week were our first fermented food of the season. Fermented foods are basically any food that is flavored and preserved by some microorganism- in the case of our pickles, its mostly Lacto Bacillus, the same bacteria that makes yogurt out of milk. These bacteria are present everywhere; all you have to do is give them the right conditions, and they will culture the vegetables on their own.

Sandor Ellix Katz, who wrote our book on fermentation and live-cultured foods, says:

“Sauerkraut, kimchi, and pickles will not cure every ailment, but they will contribute to overall well-being. Whether you are the healthiest person in the world, are facing a life-threatening health crisis, are living with a chronic disease, or are just aging like everyone else, live culture (unpasteurized) fermented foods improve digestion, absorption of nutrients (especially minerals), and immune function. Fermenting vegetables preserves them with their nutrients intact, “predigests” those nutrients into more accessible forms, and generates additional nutrients, both vitamins and obscure micronutrients only just beginning to be identified and understood.

Live ferments also contain lactobacilli and other related bacteria, which repopulate and diversify the intestinal microflora. . . Bacteria are not our enemies; however, our culture has declared a foolish all-out war on them, overdeploying antibiotic drugs, chlorinated water and antibacterial cleaning products. The war on bacteria is like the war on terror or the war on drugs: an unwinnable exercise in futility. . . Medical science has documented the healing power of live cultures in hundreds of controlled studies, and today probiotics are among the fastest-growing segments of the nutritional supplement market. But any nutrient you can obtain in a pill or a powder you can get better from a whole food. Fermenting with spontaneously occurring local organisms integrates us into the web of life of our environment and adapts us to the local microbial ecology.”

Rather than continuing to quote the whole book I’ll just highly recommend that you read both Wild Fermentation; The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods and The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved; Inside America’s Underground Food Movements because they are both invaluable to any conscious person. To sum it up; fermentation kicks ass! A process which transforms raw foods not only into something more delicious, but more nutritious! I tried my hands at sauerkraut for the first time last year, primarily because we had nearly 400 feet of cabbage ready to rot in the field and in desperate need of a cool shelf, or better yet, a salty crock. Long story short, with a mess of other veggies, we made some big crocks of beautiful lacto fermented sauerkraut, much to the appeal of the house and our market customers (my kraut actually got Josh and I lots of free chocolate and a joy ride on a small plane-no joke). This year we could hardly wait. Cabbages were literally the first seeds my hands put in the ground of Kentucky. That was in February, and two weeks ago I was finally able to get my hands tamping again. This first gorgeous batch is out and delectable. We have a limited supply – ten pints – since cabbage worms took their own CSA share. We’ll have a mid-summer kraut as well, but the real treat will be winter kraut and kimchi. After a few frosts we’ll be harvesting much happier cabbage, carrots, radishes and the like for slower, sweeter ferments.

And then we tried pickles. I, unfortunately, hate pickles. Dill makes me want to run, and pickles just make me want to run faster. However, I do love to make pickles, and Josh loves them enough for the both of us. Our first vat of these lovelies came out last week and were eaten up in no time. We held out enough to give all our CSA customers a jar to sample, and thus far the response has been wonderful. Josh filled a crock today with just three day’s worth of cucumbers so I can assure you there will be plenty available to purchase. Pickles are $5 a pint, sauerkraut, due to limited supply, is $7 a pint. $1 off your next pint of either if you bring your jar back!

There is no vinegar, sugar, pasteurization or adulterants in these products! Just organically grown produce, time and wild lacto bacilli came together to create these delicious and nutritious ferments. Sugar free, gluten free, worry free.

The ingredients are as follows:

Sour Pickles

Home grown ingredients: cucumbers, dill, garlic, wild grape leaves

Bought ingredients: kosher salt, black peppercorns

Sauerkraut

Home grown ingredients: cabbage, carrots, garlic, onions, radish pods, beets

Bought ingredients: caraway seed, celery seed, kosher salt, dried red pepper

Bri & Josh

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 5

2011-07-02T16:57:00.000-07:00

June 26, 2011

Naturally grown food for those dear

Happy belated Summer Solstice everyone!

We celebrated the solstice by bringing my dear grandparents down and up windy, narrow roads and into the far hills of Berea to one of the most important farms, as far as I’m concerned, in the country. Susana Lein and her home atop a beautiful mountain, Salamander Springs Farm, is where you can see much of what Josh and I aspire to. She had a wonderful summer solstice party, a gathering of hippies from my grandparents view, a gathering of really great people whose primary concern is for the health of the land. It was grand fun to show my grandparents around to what our weedy mess of mulch and vegetables can become after ten years.

After delicious food, grand music and dear company we turned the grandparents home and headed to Lexington for continued socializing (quite the rarity for us). Some fellow farmers and CFA (Community Farm Alliance) have organized an “Ag Legacy Group” of sorts and had a little concert benefit. I love my life out in the country more than a calf loves milk, but it’s easy to neglect your social life. Through this group we have met awesome fellow farmers, our age, who are doing it! Living this “back t the land” dream by actually trying it out. It’s always a breath of fresh air to be around them, and gives us new ideas to try out when we return home.

After some relaxing, however, we spent much of the longest day of the year thinking about the shortest. Why were we bothering ourselves with the dark and gloomy prospect of winter? Well because you have to plan your meals months in advance if you want to grow them yourself! In January I dreamed of pesto and so drew basil in the garden plan; I now enjoy it at least twice per week. Now we dream of good eats through fall, winter, and the coming spring and so plan and plant accordingly. Our fall seed order with Fedco arrived yesterday, today half of it was put in plug trays. Mmm endive. And hmm, scorzonera?

While the garden is growing wonderfully, and our many trials and experiments are proving fruitful, what is even more exciting is how exponentially better we can do it next year. Being the plan and diagram master, I am stoked to be able to plan and diagram for this land after having gotten to know it for a season. We will be able to winter over many vegetables, giving us an early start next year (meaning, food to you sooner!) and we will know how to place, grow and care for each and every vegetable next year as a result of this year’s garden. Oh experiential learning! There is no greater teacher.

But back to the present, where we all are no matter how often we try to live in the future. The garden is glistening. A sea of green my camera cannot do justice. High currents of sunflower, wide waves of zucchini, a consistent undercurrent of lettuce, splashes of color from the many many blossoms of various upcoming vegetables. Cucumbers have quickly overcome their trellis and we’ve been picking and enjoying the new fruit, you should expect them in your basket week after next. Zuchinni and tomatoes are not too far behind, potatoes have flowered, beans are podding, cabbage is heading, yada yada. Lettuce continues to amaze us and we think we’ll be able to keep arugula and spinach going longer next year in the same way. The only pest issues as of yet have been cabbage worms, pod borers on my beloved chickpeas and some slimy nasty buggers on the tomatillos. But all have been manageable and far preferable to the alternative. As my grandmother says, it’s delightful to find a squirming worm as you pull back the husk from a fresh ear of corn because you know it must not have been poisoned. Though Josh’s broccoli and cabbage worm sauté was a tad unnerving the other day, I’m still happy it’s organic (please note; it was only one worm and we tend to was your vegetables far more thoroughly than our own!)

Boy if I don’t wrap this up soon Josh is likely to dehydrate himself weeding so I best get back out and join him. I hope your gardens, meals, health and happiness are all whole and well. Enjoy our continued beautifully mild weather!

Bri & Josh

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 4

2011-07-02T16:55:00.000-07:00

June 9, 2011

Naturally grown food for those dear

Hello again everyone!

Goodness, all that rain and now it feels like August. The days of mild or predictable seasons are well over. Thankfully the thick layer of mulch all over the garden keeps the plants cool, moist and well drained, ie., all around adaptable to whatever weather hits them. Well maybe not the most severe, but you get my point.

In this heat tomato, tomatillo and cucumber blossoms are forming, chickpeas are blooming and podding, beans, squash and potatoes are just shooting up to the sky and spinach has bid us farewell until fall. Due to a lack of security a pony got his happy belly in one of our gardens and ate every last sweet corn stalk : ( Heartbreaking, yes, but thankful he did not make it to the far more nutritionally valuable sweet potatoes, cowpeas and winter squash also flourishing in that garden. We do have a small stand of baby corn (which doubles as popcorn if left to dry) in another garden, so you may get to eat some grass this season after all! Speaking of a lack of sweets, I made a huge mistake in my excited, though apparently partially blind, plan to have tons of sugar snap peas this season. We got one small packet of some really exciting sounding sugar snaps, way back in the winter, which I promptly planted, but thinking it wasn’t near enough I planted a good five times that in leftover Dwarf Grey Sugar seed. This is a variety we grew last year for shoots, but for some reason I disregarded that thought and assumed they were sugar snaps due to “sugar” being in their title. Silly me, they are a snow pea. While a letdown, they are decidedly delicious steamed, stir-fried, or fresh (depending on your tastes) and are abundant as can be. Our few actual Sugar Snap Pea plants are not the best producers, and in this heat have already gotten too starchy, so we may be without that crop until next season. While spinach has dropped out lettuce is still going strong thanks to our cucumber trellis which shades them from the intense “spring” heat. New in your baskets this week are dill and basil, expect lots more!

By my grandma’s request I’ve begun organizing photos by month, rather than one huge folder, so please enjoy May here: and June here:

That’s all I’ve got for this week, both my ma and my grandparents will be out here from California later this week so I’ve got some tidying up to do (I think they might appreciate a path to the tipi and a cleaner Bri and Josh to hug). As always, enjoy your veggies and let us know what you’re doing with them!

I leave you with a passage I love from Ruth Stout about the “completely reliable mystery involved” in the garden

And if “enchantment” sounds a little farfetched you have not yet opened your eyes and heart to the unassuming miracle of the performance of a tiny seed as insignificant-looking as a fleck of dust. If you put a tomato seed, for instance, into the earth, and barely cover it, it will send a tender green shoot up through the soil. . . Then this little, live thing keeps getting bigger and greener and more and more surprising. It covers itself with green leaves and later with yellow blossoms. Did you ever stop to wonder how it decided always to have them yellow?

Soon the blossoms fall off and, amazingly enough, tiny green balls appear. These keep getting bigger and fatter.

Now, the next step wuld be hard to believe if you hadn’t been taking it for granted all your life. These balls, having reached their full size, look abut them, see that green is the predominant color in their environment and decide to break the monotony. They begin to experiment, try a touch of white, then greenish-yellow, then pink, and finally a bright, gay red.

At last these pretty balls have reached maturity; they are satisfied with what they have achieved and relax. They wait for the kind person who gave that tiny seed an opportunity to fulfill its greatest possibilities to come and eat them. . .

To me it is almost awesome to look at a tiny tomato seed and then at a large, healthy plant, heavy with green, pink and red tomatoes, and think of the completely reliable mystery involved.

Have a wonderful week,

Bri & Josh

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 3

2011-07-02T16:53:00.000-07:00

May 29, 2011

Naturally grown food for those dear

Hello again everyone!

First off, dear CSA customers, I have to give a spiel from us mega anti-plastic freaks. Pretty please DO NOT throw your ziplocks away! Basically, anything that isn’t edible in your basket is meant to be washed and returned to us in order to be reused. We are very passionate about not investing in more non-biodegradables, and the decision to purchase ziplocks to hold onto your delectable greens between the garden and your plates was a difficult one. The precious money you are spending on our CSA is meant to go into the garden and we don’t want to waste money on waste. So, before anyone even has a chance to pitch a ziplock, I ask you to please pitch it in the sink instead, give it a quick rinse and return it to us when we bring your next basket. And of course, if you have a different preferred receptacle for greens and other delicate perishables, hand it over and we’ll be happy to use it. In addition to individual vegetable packaging, we are still on the lookout for good CSA baskets. The ones we bought, so cute, turned out to be WAY too small for the share. I’d love to weave our own, but where to find the time?!

And onward. What a wonderful response we’ve been getting! To the food, the newsletters and the pictures, your welcome and thank you. I’m glad the food is being enjoyed and while I’m sorry we can’t take on more customers right now, I’m glad there is such demand! Since we only began at Kokovoko this winter, we do not have the spring bounty we hope to have in coming years (many spring crops are sown the previous fall, long before we were here!), but summer and fall will just be a mess of produce. We are very excited to be taking on at least three new shareholders in July to make a total of seven our first season!

Moving onto what is of greatest interest, the garden! It’s looking wonderful and we’re enjoying every new blossom, pod, leaf, globe, etc. with mouse-like squeaks of excitement. Our sustenance, just popping up out of the ground. While lettuce and spinach are still tender, the arugula has come and gone. It was so short lived; delicious for a week or so, and then just in time for our first week of distributions, bam! Bolted (this means it has gone to seed, which, for arugula, means no longer tasty). For arugula and other early bolters like bok choy we will simply save the seeds and try out sprouts for the baskets. They are mega delicious and vitaminaceious so I’m hoping we can all forget about how much we miss arugula salads until they arrive again in the fall. In other garden news, we have planted sweet corn, and I think everyone will be happy about that.

As for this week’s basket, expect much of the same, minus arugula. We will also hold off on the rhubarb for a week to let it come back. The sugar snaps are covered in pods, but haven’t fattened up yet into their sweet and juicy true natures. We’ll pick some to get them producing more and just throw them in your stir fry mix. You’ll also be receiving pea shoots, which are wonderful stir fried or fresh in salads (we’ll keep them separate so you can make the decision) Speaking of stir frying, I ought to include some cooking tips eh? All those garlic and onion tops can seem a little intimidating so here is my advice-chop them off and boil them. Boil them for awhile and then leave them under cover in the pot for an hour or two, or whatever length of time you need to go do something else before making a proper lunch. Come back, pull them out, squeeze them like a wet towel for any remaining flavor, throw them in the compost heap, and dump a bunch of rice in the pot. Cook the rice and enjoy. You can cook any absorbent grain in this onion and garlic top stock, I just find rice easy and holds onto the most flavor. I also toast the rice and some garlic and onions in lard or bacon grease before throwing it in the stock-makes it even better. You can also throw the Asian and turnip greens in when the rice is almost done for a full meal. Well I’m making my own self hungry so I’m going to go eat, sleep, and wake up ready to harvest!

Have a wonderful week,

Bri & Josh

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 2

2011-07-02T16:52:00.001-07:00

May 19, 2011

Naturally grown food for those dear

Volume 1 Issue 2

I know I know, another newsletter and no food yet? So soon now! Spring crops are coming on and we are ready to begin distribution! What we need now is your desired pick-up day and location. As we are so small every day of growing counts and would prefer staggering you all on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Please email us back letting us know which day and location you prefer.

It’s been a maddening cold spell since I last wrote; wonderful for the sugar snaps, spinach, lettuce and arugula, but Josh, myself, the tomatoes, tomatillos, eggplants and peppers are all shivering a big no! Sugar Snap Peas began flowering about five days ago so we might throw in a few for a treat, like after dinner mints, but should have a real harvest by your second week. Do note that basket size will range depending on the time of year; spring begins slowly, but soon enough you’ll be looking to cookie recipes and neighbors for squash outlets. We pre-wash your salad greens as they are jolly grit carriers but do recommend you wash them again before eating.

Your first basket will include:

Bloomsdale and Space Spinach (F1)* which are so young and tender they hardly need a minute of cooking, or better yet, none!

Lettuces and Arugula, which are packaged together as a colorful and delicious salad mix.

Asian Greens, including turnip and mustard, spicy and wonderful stir-fried with onions over rice.

Fresh Onions, remember these are spring onions, just chop off the roots and eat the whole thing! The tops are even good raw in salads.

Fresh Garlic, treat them just like fresh onions-eat the whole thing!

French Breakfast, Easter Egg and Cherry Belle Radishes, all pretty and tasty in salads.

I would also like to share a video about a woman with Fukuoka inspired gardens in France. Quality isn’t excellent but the commentary and information are adorable and I’ve never seen or heard of a garden so similar to ours! Makes me feel just a tad less crazy, and good to be reminded that trusting my gut (which tells me tillage is not only unnecessary, but harmful) can lead to a food paradise.

Josh and I are off to the Kentucky Sheep and Fiber Festival in Lexington for the weekend to sell a ton of wool and spindles, come by if you can! Hopefully the weeds won’t get too far ahead of us and we’ll be harvesting a beautiful first basket for you all this coming week.

Thanks again,

Bri, Josh & Bu

*F1 is the acronym for hybrid plants. With buzzwords right now like “heirloom” I think it helpful to let you all know, in case you don’t, the difference between an heirloom and a hybrid variety. An heirloom is a variety developed by years of selection, creating local varieties fit to a places particular climate, soil, etc. F1 hybrid does not mean it’s been genetically modified, it’s simply a one generation cross, which means we cannot save seed from it-its babies will not come true. As of right now we grow only two F-1 hybrids (Space Spinach and Daikon Radish), all others are open pollinated heirlooms. Anytime an F-1 hybrid is included in your basket I will note it. There is nothing wrong with these vegetables except that we cannot save seed, which is why we plan to not grow them unless it’s the only choice we have at the moment, which was the case for Daikon Radishes.

Josh & Bri's Veggies CSA Newsletter; Volume 1 Issue 1

2011-05-31T09:25:00.000-07:00

May 13, 2011

Josh & Bri’s Veggies CSA Newsletter
Naturally grown food for those dear
Volume 1 Issue 1

Hello and welcome CSA* members, friends, family and fellow farmers to the first installment of Josh and Bri’s Veggies Newsletter! If you do not wish to receive these newsletters please reply with a blank email and I’ll take you off the list. You can also view somewhat different versions of these newsletters on my blog, www.briboon.blogspot.com .

Spring is in full swing here at Kokovoko Breeding Farm and our garden(s) are alive and well. Since this may be the first real communication you’re getting from us, here’s a brief intro to us. Josh is from Kentucky and I (Bri) am from California. A couple years ago in Japan, where Josh was teaching English, and somewhere in Morocco, where I was serving in the Peace Corps, we each decided that farming was what we wanted to do. Sometime later, with no prior experience, and from very different places, we both found our way to farming in Massachusetts as apprentices. We became good friends, worked together like pork and beans and the rest is history.

After a season in the Northeast we decided that farming, and each other, were to be further pursued. While Josh worked over the winter at Emerald Glen Farm, I found Kokovoko Breeding Farm on ATTRA (http://attra.ncat.org/) and decided to try my farming hands for real in Kentucky. Owner and operator Leslie Bebensee breeds, raises, trains and races Swedish Gotland ponies, and breeds, eats, and generally enjoys a good flock of Lincoln Longwool sheep, chickens and turkeys. I arrived in January, and Josh in March with an agreement to work in exchange for room, board and land to grow. In addition to a CSA garden, we’ve also been hard at work on our new home (a tipi) and facilities (a composting toilet) on one of Leslies many back acres. Life is good, and that is the mini summary of where we are and why. And now onto garden news!

After a lovely visit yesterday with fellow farmer and dear friend Nancy we came home extra inspired and built a lath house (“built” makes it sound like more of an event than the simple pallet, plywood, tobacco stick and baling twine medley that it actually was) next to our new compost pile and got a great deal of sowing and transplanting done. I’ll freely admit I was quite burned out by the tiresome transplanting system we used last year, and walked into this season nearly vowing to never transplant again. The way we garden - Ruth Stout method, Fukuoka style, permaculturist, mulch overdosing, whatever you want to call it, is truly wonderful, but not without its difficulties, or better named, great learning curves (and clumps and clods, etc.) What we have quickly learned is that a garden’s first year (or two or three) under heavy mulch is not really the ideal place for direct seeding. We can gab about why and how and all that some other time, but to get to the point, we are born again transplanters. A garden, like any group of live beings, works best when worked with, not against.

As I was doing all of this newly pleasant work of sowing in plug trays I realized it was high time to get in contact with our dear CSA shareholders, (and other interested parties) as they are to be the recipients of our coming harvests. I would like to thank all of you for your support thus far, for not only are you supporting this garden economically, but us as people and the way we have chosen to be the change we wish to see in the world. By supporting us this growing season you strengthen your local economy, environment and, of course, yourselves and your family with the gift of the earth’s bounty. We are ever grateful for being able to do what we love to do.

We hope to begin distributing baskets the week of May 22nd, weather and growth permitting! The first basket should include lettuces, radishes, arugula and spinach (if this heat doesn’t cause it to bolt!), turnip and other stir fry greens, and sugar snap peas (if they tire of vining and get to flowering!). Future newsletters will include info on your basket contents, recipes, farm updates and more. You can always view pictures of our progress on the blog, or at https://picasaweb.google.com/brianagodfrey/KentuckyLivin# . We aren’t as hip to the facebook scene as most kids these days but do have a page, http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Josh-Bris-Veggies/110044119078104?sk=wall . We much prefer local harvest, and our listing can be viewed at http://www.localharvest.org/csa/M43531 .

Please feel free to contact us with and questions, comments or concerns. We are in our first year of business and want to serve you well!

Happy Spring,
Bri, Josh and the mulch master cat Bu

*CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) is a popular new way for farmers and eaters to work together. The customer purchases a share of the farm’s harvest at the beginning of the season, and the farmer delivers it one week at a time. The customer gets a steady supply of fresh, local produce from a farmer they can trust, and the farmers get to grow nourishing food for families they know, allowing them to spend less time marketing and more time weeding.

Farming is not a lost profession or passion

2011-05-16T18:56:00.001-07:00

I just want to take a moment to tell you all about two other kick ass farmers of my generation. Jeff and Carolyn, who were on their way out of the farm as Josh and I were coming in last year, are still farming too! I won't delve into all of their awesomeness here, but check out their site, Potter Hill Farm, and buy their food if you happen to live way out there.

I remember going to a gathering early spring last year of young apprentices just like myself-excited and eager to try out farming. One of the organizers of the group, with many years of farming under his belt, gave us a depressing statistic about how many of us would actually continue on to become farmers. I believe the number was two. Jeff, Carolyn, Josh and I were all there, and I couldn't imagine any of us not doing this forever, but statistically, we wouldn't. Of course statistics are not to be counted on, but nonetheless, here we are proving them wrong! I don't know how many other youngins' in that room are still farming today, but just the four of us doubled how many were "supposed" to. And I'm pretty freakin proud and happy about it!

After a while

2011-05-15T05:06:00.001-07:00

There's this thing that happens after a while, when you find yourself on the last few miles home and a smile spreads across your face. Your shoulders loosen, as does your grip on the wheel and you find yourself at ease and delighted to be so close to home. I have a habit of making a home like this in many places and with many people. I am so grateful for all of them, and remembering this same feeling for each makes me a little sad as there is s much to miss. But here, in the boonies of Kentucky, is something new. All the homes I've built previously had an expiration date from the start, this is the first that doesn't. As I drive home from my town job and that smile spreads across my face I realize all that I have. I'm living in a beautiful land, and growing food alongside someone I love, it's all I could ever ask for and more. It kills me that so few people can find peace in their lives and I think all it takes is giving yourself permission to do what you love to do, and then to go do it. Anyhow, I'm happy as a pig in shit, sorry if I'm flaunting it a tad here. Now onto real farm nitty gritty!

There has been so much to do in so little time, particularly with our bi-polar weather! The heat has not been great for our early brassicas, who are bolting like mad, but wonderful for most everything else. Cowpeas, sunflowers, corn, etc have been germinating in two days! And my only issue with rain is that we can't work in it. Because we have heavily mulched beds and deep paths, when it floods nothing is washed away, and is even kept watered longer due to slow seepage from the paths. It's wonderful.

We also put together our first newsletter, which goes more in depth than I will here on my newfound love of transplants (email me if you want it but didn't get it - jbeveggies(at)gmail(dot)com) We're busy getting more beds prepared for all the summer crops to go in, as well as getting pumped and ready for our first week of CSA distributions coming up.

In other news, we spent our first night in the tipi! And it was lovely. We've hardly been up to work on it all week for the weather has drawn us only to the garden, but a few nights ago it was just too warm and beautiful to resist trying it out. Just a few more stones to move, rain-proofing to do, and homey fixin's to bring up and we'll be in for good. There is so much more to tell, but I really must be going, just wanted to let you all know I haven't forgotten about keeping you updated!

Hope you're all enjoying spring before summer brings an unpleasant heat on.

Tipi Raising Bonfire!

2011-04-11T16:39:00.000-07:00

(the following is an email invite I sent out, but since I may not have all your contact infos, I include it here as well)
Hello and happy spring everyone!

As many of you know, Josh and I have begun to set roots (literally) at Kokovoko Breeding Farm in Corinth, Kentucky. Between working on our new garden and CSA, rounding up sheep, and keeping all the critters fed, we’ve also been preparing for our new home; a tipi! Shaving poles, choosing a site, shaving poles, setting up a composting toilet, sanding poles, hauling stones for our floor, more sanding poles . . . you get the gist. A great many thanks to Leslie, owner of the farm and awesome supporter of poor but passionate farmers such as Josh and myself for giving us the chance to make it all happen!

To celebrate the arrival of spring, the building of a new home, the bringing together of new and old friends, or whatever other excuses we make up to party, we’d love to welcome you all over this Friday for the best (if only) tipi raising bonfire ever! With time to check out the farm and new gardens, help raise the tipi (and haul a few stones), hang out around the bonfire and relax with good food and good people before we all get wrapped up and crazy with spring and summer.

Dinner will be pot luck. Bring your own drinking water, a dish and/or beer to share and tent if you’d like to stay over. Be forewarned that the main farm has all the usual comforts, but the back farm, where we’re raising the tipi and staying has only the glory of a composting toilet, as much water as we intend to carry to it, and the light of the moon and/or bonfire. It’s going to be grand.

We’ll be here all day and plan to have the tipi up and covered early on, so that by dusk we can just relax. Come whenever you like, leave before we’re sick of ya. The fun starts after 5. Please RSVP so we know what to expect and since the weather looks to possibly be nasty Friday, let me know if you can all make it just as well on Thursday as the weather will be kinder then. I mean who says we can only party on the weekends? Anyhow, if I get a good response I’ll send out an email with a date change. Email me for directions- jbveggies@gmail.com

Seedling Heaven

2011-03-29T20:58:00.001-07:00

I made that silly mistake today of taking a delightful late-afternoon nap, which means I'm wide awake at the hour I so need to be sleeping. But since it is dark outside and Josh is sleeping I am finally in front of the computer without distractions pulling me elsewhere. I must note that having said supposed distraction-Josh-is wonderful. Working alongside him once again, well shoot, I just couldn't be happier.

To sum up the going's on right now-wonderful. Since this blog is evolving more toward our garden and CSA info and updates, rather than my extensive naval gazing, I'll focus here on the current garden delights. Seedlings everywhere! The cold frame has worked splendidly; onions are still going strong, and we transplanted broccoli and cabbage two days ago. Another round of brassicas moved in and I think they will fare well too. Successions of lettuce are up and leggy but doing well in their flats.

But as my mom says, "most plants want to be in the ground"(hahahaha) and it's true; everything we've direct seeded is stout, strong and abundant. The arugula, turnips, radishes and spinach are all coming up beautifully among a nice leaf mulch (normally leaf mulch is undesirable as it mats down in a thick sheet, making it difficult to grow in, but, lucky for us, our hard working, free range chickens made nice work of all the yard leaves-tearing them up into fine pieces and eating all the weed seeds, leaving us with a premium garden mulch, thank you chickens!). Oh and the sugar snap peas! Oy vey are they doing well! Standing tall and growing by the day; we are going to be swimming in peas quite soon.

Carrots, celeriac, dill, parsley, Swiss chard, kohlrabi, beets and chickpeas are all in the ground and likely to germinate once this cold spell ends. Tomatoes, peppers and eggplants have germinated in the windowsill behind me and have us dreaming of summer often. And last but not least, fungi is in! With the help of my good friend and fellow RPCV Elizabeth, we got our mushroom bed set up and spawn in all in one awful cold day this week. Kingstraphoria will be making it to our dear CSA members baskets this season. Hurray!

That leads me to CSA news! We signed on our very first CSA member today, and have two more committed. We are darn awful excited to grow food for them, and us, and more! Here are our offerings for the 2011 season:

Vegetable Share - $550 for the 22-week season ($25 per week). $250 deposit due by April 15^th. Remaining $300 due by July 1^st.

Vegetable and Egg Share - $616 for the 22-week season ($28 per week). $280 deposit due by April 15^th. Remaining $336 due by July 1^st.

Feel free to email us for more information or to sign up at jbveggies(at)gmail(dot)com

Happy Spring!

Rainy day updating

2011-03-05T08:07:00.001-08:00

As you may have noticed I've finally added pictures-click on the Kentucky Livin slideshow on the upper right to view them all. You can also check out all the amazing photos from hog processing day at Emerald Glen Farm, courtesy of Chris, our beloved butcher here. I'm passing this rainy day indoors, catching up with all the not-fun computer work I've been avoiding. Important stuff though! Most notably our Local Harvest listing, click here for it. Local Harvest is absolutely the best site for finding local produce and CSAs. Dear family, support us by supporting a local farm near you! Seriously, it's so easy, just put in your zip and they will give you a whole list of nearby farms and what they offer.

Garden news, my broccoli and cabbages have sprouted! You never saw a sillier sight, oy vey, I was totally curled up and over, nearly planting my own nose in the soil, searching. But there they were, so beautiful, so full of life for how small they are. I feel sorry for the majority of people who completely overlook this incredible miracle that takes place every moment. Anyhow, that excitement's taking place in the makeshift cold frame I built in the garden out of a big (and INSANELY heavy) door and lots of hay. The leeks, scallions and onions have yet to germinate, but I have faith! I also had the mad idea to use a car as a cold frame. Yesterday I sowed two trays of more alliums and set them up in one of Leslie's daughter's cars, we'll see how it goes. And next to me in the window of the dining room are two flats of more yummy germination brewing.

One week til Josh gets planted here and I can hardly wait! Leslie and I both are looking forward to lots of hugs and lots of work from him : ) Looks like the rain has let up so I better head back out and get some garden work in before I head to the pizzeria.

Spring Tease

2011-02-25T12:15:00.001-08:00

Spring has merely flirted with me so far. Such a tease, showing up for a day or two here and there. After only a day above 50 you begin to believe it will never be cold again. Oh but then she leaves again. So cruel.

Of course the glorious first days of springy weather I had to work, then head out of town for Munfordville, not that I'm complaining, mostly. Saturday morning I did chores super early under light of the full moon in time to enjoy the sunrise on my way to Munfordville for the morning hog slaughter. It was a wonderful day around people who love and care about their food. How odd it is to get flack from people about being present for the slaughter of three happy, healthy hogs that will provide months of food for three healthy families. It's so sad to me that people really do consider themselves more humane and kind to animals by never seeing them die. Ugh. I consider myself a big advocate of animal welfare and thoroughly enjoy being there with the animals I intend to eat; from birth to death. Anyhow, I better get off my soap box while I'm ahead, because I could stay on it all day.

Sunday Josh and I spent hours planning our season. We thought we might watch a movie, but our romance really revolves around watching life coming out of the ground, not images on a screen, and we just ran out of time. Money is a fret, loans debt continues to be our greatest impediment to possible financial freedom, but our plan is something to smile and feel good about.

Now I've returned to Kokovoko, as has the chill of winter. At least its rain rather than snow, progress, but it's far too muddy to work so I sit here and type. Lambing is in full swing, and as any farmer knows, animals tend to give birth in the worst of weather. I came home from a rather lucrative night at the pizza joint into a raging rainstorm. Water seemed to pour from everywhere as I threw on my coveralls and headed out to the barn at 10:30pm. Sure enough, a ewe was there, as Leslie puts it, "making mommy noises" to her healthy, new lamb. This made me quite happy for the glorious miracle of spring is also a time to be reminded of death. After healthy twins last week, another ewe was not so fortunate and had one dead. It's horribly sad each time these things happen, but also makes me ever more grateful to be present for the lessons. Death is very much a part of life. I buried the little feller in the new compost pile in our garden and look forward to him becoming a part of the earth, and in time, our nourishment.

Other garden news since I've returned; I got a fine make-shift cold frame set up and sown, just in time before light snow followed by heavy rains. I'll do my best to leave our cherished broccoli, cabbage, onion, scallion and leek seeds to germinate undisturbed, difficult as that may be. Instead I've been focusing on the mucky work of prepping beds. Remember we are avid non-tillers! The only tilling done here is by the worms, who are the real farmers I must say. I have the beds all marked and am now (well not now exactly, as its far too muddy to keep ones boots on, much less move said mud around) pulling all the barn manure I've dumped alongside the garden periodically over the winter across the garden. Also knocking down some hills and moving all hay that's been dumped in the middle out and across the beds. It's a bit like sculpting. I have this big glob of a garden and must carve out paths and build up beds for planting. Leslie says the garden's not much to look at right now, but beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. A great big wet mat of hay and organic debris makes my heart leap with joy!

I'll be stealing Josh from the wonderful people of Emerald Glen farm on March 11^th and if we can gather the funds (a whole $12 each, a splurge for us!) we're going to go see one of my favorite bands, Menomena, on our way through Louisville to see his parents. After he sets down his bags I just might sit back and make him move some muck around! Sounds bad, but it's hardly cruel nor true. He'll be delighted to get all up in that hay mess, and I won't be able to resist joining him.

Oh and there's still more exciting news! Lovely Leslie has purchased Josh and I our first home; a tipi! This tipi idea has been brewing for some time and it's finally becoming real. Between Leslie's master chainsaw skills, her fruitful forest of black locust, her awesome boyfriend Chris, and some help from me, we got all the trees we need down (healthy thinning of forest) and soon we'll begin peeling and all the work of making fine tipi poles out of them. Yay! I'll let you know about a possible tipi-warming bonfire party later…

Has this been random enough for you? More of it promised next time. Hope you're all signing up for CSA shares or planning your own gardens! sMuch love to you all.

Our business cards have arrived!

2011-02-14T15:28:00.000-08:00

Yay :) and they look far better in person (as do brassica seedlings) If you're interested in a bountiful box of beautiful produce delivered to you each week; supporting your local economy, your family with nourishing, naturally grown food, your environment as we use only organic and sustainable growing methods, and us, your humble food lovers and growers, then email us about CSA shares and other ways you can get and consume our awesome food!

New life

2011-02-12T19:14:00.001-08:00

Big news of yesterday in the great, wide world-a great victory of the Egyptian people, in my bitty, wide world-Fedco seed order arrived! Lhamdulilah. A wonderful evening organizing my little packets of food babies into their respective families; Amaryilidaceae, Brassicaceae, Cucurbitaceae, and on and on, oh how I wish I'd studied botany! Then I dreamt of lambing, on and on, ewe after ewe, such a long night.

I've been writing in my head a post about the battle between which I hate more-frozen or muddy ground, because both are just dreadful, but this morning something else happened. I walked out to a rather warm morning and firm ground, delighted to share my previous evening's dreams with the expecting flock. I rounded the corner and there! First lamb of the season! A big, healthy, female lamb next to her attentive mother. What a wonderful sight in the bright morning sun. I darn near skipped through chores; few things in life are more delightful than a new lamb. New life reminds me spring still exits and plans to arrive again this year.

I'm moving into the hay loft for good now (minus far below freezing nights-Leslie's policy) and commencing real farmer hours again-alarm at 6:30. I go to sleep tonight comforted to know that one of my dearest friends, Casey is happy and safe in a very different Egypt, and that I have plans for a very different, and very exciting, season of gardening ahead.

bound and determined

2011-01-27T11:47:00.001-08:00

It's true; I'm now bound to the blog for it's going on our business card. Mistake? Possibly. And business card? Bri? Yes, it seems silly, but what the heck, I can pretend to be a professional from time to time. I'm on a high after SAWG, getting our entire seed order in, keeping up with records, planning plantings, mapping the garden, making awesome connections 'round here, writing to you all, and imagining I just maybe might be able to keep up with it all. Maybe. Oddly, out of the complete lethargy of winter we dream up the most outrageous plans for spring. And then spring comes and you realize you're only human again and there's still only 24 hours in the day. Shoot its humbling eh?

Leslie had a couple friends/farmers over last night, both of whom I have much to learn from. I am so grateful for those who have been doing such great work for so many years. Too many (particularly youngins like me) become jaded and lose hope too soon in this business (of healing the world one bite at a time). My faith is renewed each time I meet someone who has done, continues to do, and forever will do IT. Lovely women. Nancy, of Shady Grove Farm, made the best baked apples ever and I'll be heading over tomorrow to exchange garden wisdom, plan our plantings and hang out with goats. Bound to be as good a time as last night. Also Shady Grove is like the best song ever, right? Linda, just as wonderful and passionate about her own operation, may be providing space for Josh & Bri's Veggies (yep that's what we're calling our little plot of goodness) to be sold at her place to some loyal folks and recruit some families interested in CSA shares.

Since Josh worries about nothing, and I worry about everything, I'm calling it some funky balance, and next to our both being crazy excited about growing, I'm faithful it's going to be a beautiful and bountiful season. Inshallah.

some ponies on our plot

New year, new beginning

2011-01-17T19:57:00.001-08:00

"Another thing I don't do is look at screens. . . because I have a life." That's what Wendell Berry said in a talk at Williamstown last April when asked what he thought of the internet as a useful medium for the green revolution. And that's my defense for not writing in so very, very long. I have had a life. Tumultuous and beautiful. I cannot begin to sum up my experiences since April, but assure you they have been full and plentiful. So much growth; from within the soil as well as myself. The land I lived on and those I spent time with have taught me so much. Most notably Josh, my fellow apprentice turned farmer, dear friend turned lover.

There are two vital components of life, as far as I can tell; the work we choose to do, and who we decide to spend it with. Happiness can rest in either. I have the awesome fortune of both. I found farming and I found Josh. But somehow, after a beautiful year with both, we said goodbye and I returned to California for the holidays and beyond. I have wanted to want to live in California for years, but it just hasn't happened. I love my family dearly and can't explain my aversion, but I simply find no joy in California. For a good many reasons, after a month and a half on the west coast I decided to move to Kentucky.

And now I am here, at Kokovoko Breeding Farm, in dead of winter but still gorgeous Kentucky country. Josh is on a farm a couple hours away but is moving here in March and we shall garden together once again! Leslie Bebensee's (the owner and manager of this farm) support and encouragement can only be rivaled by that of my family. I am overwhelmed and thrilled to work alongside her. I won't delve into all the details here, but basically I work for her and the farm in exchange for room, board and land to garden. No stipend this time, but a very reasonable and positive working relationship, and the long term possibilities here go as far as I am willing to take them.

The big elephant in the room, of course, is how to get from here (penniless and in debt but full of passion) to there (supporting ourselves by nourishing others through the food we grow). It's a rough life and I don't deny that money, at least for now, is needed in this picture. But how do you work at something you don't love after having worked at something you do love? Waitressing at 25 is a wholly different experience than when I was 15. For now I am swallowing my pride (for I do take a great amount of pride in my work) and having a job. Waitressing at a nearby pizzeria to support my farming habit. We'll see how it goes come spring when every ounce of my body wants every second of the day to be devoted to getting those cherished seeds into the ground, and to see them through life, harvest and consumption. Got to give a little here in order to get there.

On a lighter note, I am so outrageously pumped for Thursday! I am driving all the way out to Josh's boonies, not just to see him, but to hop on a bus full of farmers to Southern SAWG in Chattanooga, Tennessee! Look it up. Leslie, what with all her awesome connections having been in the farm world her entire life, has gotten Josh and me into Southern SAWG on unbelievable scholarships. Friday and Saturday are going to leave us in a farm info coma for sure. Somehow within our wee free hours alone when we're not giddy over all the great farms we've learned about we'll have to get our seed list together and ordered for our own ambitious plan. On Sunday I'll have to bid him goodbye for another long stint and get back to ponies, sheep, pizza and my sweet new hay loft suite (details on that later) Oh and lambing. . .

I won't make any promises, but with another couple months before Josh is back here filling all my time with living, I'm going to put in some effort to post again soon. I'll leave you with a book recommendation, for anyone who gives a shit, please read Holy Shit by Gene Logsdon! He is simply a genius and particularly for anyone and everyone that doesn't believe that shit is actually a major player in food production (yea, like a circle of life or something), seriously, quit turning up your noses and instead stick them in this book and learn something. If not for yourself (which I much prefer) read it if you'd like to better understand my trade. Much love to you all. Pleasant bowels.

Cultivation!

2010-04-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

Oh how i love cultivating. I began the day with a REAL easter egg hunt as i had forgotten to shut in the ducks last night, therefore they laid their eggs all over the sheep and dairy cow pastures, the hay barn, etc, etc.
So, delightful as that was, we moved through the rest of chores to get onto an exciting day-in the soil! The animals are amazing and i love them dearly and all that i am learning about animal husbandry, but i have been dying to get in the soil! Josh (fellow apprentice) has been the primary soil-block starter and caretaker thus far, but today we worked together and it was wonderful. Such a beautiful spring day of cultivating beds for new vegetables. Nourishing us twofold -the soul by the joyous act of preparing the ground on which this new life will grow, then our bodies when we enjoy its bountiful harvest.

the first of April; no fools

2010-04-01T20:58:00.001-07:00

Ever wake up eeked out by eerie dreams and nervous about life in the real world? I'm 24 and nervous about getting it all together soon enough. I suppose it just irks me to be so happy somewhere, and I often don't know where to place the (seemingly obligatory) sadness. Always need something to fret over, and a farm is easy to fret over. I often dwell in a quiet, cloaked in a downer attitude, and this morning it was mighty obvious. Before heading off the farm for awhile Dom yelled out, "What was the most wonderful day of your life?!" And I replied, without thought, "I have no idea!" He then told me to think about the three greatest experiences of my life, and he expected a full report later, haha.

It's an odd request to spring on a grumpy person but I embraced it nonetheless. Immediately I pictured swimming with dolphins. Amid all our fighting and struggles, whatever, my mom got us out on a couple real family vacations to Hawaii with a definite focus in appreciating the wild there. We made the trek nearly every morning of our trip to a special, then-secret, hike to a secluded beach in hopes of swimming among a local pod of dolphins as they came in for their morning feeding; a time when the tide was precarious and little stinging but nonetheless harmless jellyfish were everywhere. Together we braved entering the ocean, and snorkeled out, far beyond the disappearance of the sandy bottom and into the realm of just crystal clear blue where we strained to hear the squeal of a dolphin. We were lucky enough to swim alongside the pod maybe two times, and it was definitely one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I can't describe in words the surreal feeling of being in such close proximity with those animals. But they left a deep impression.

Second that came to mind, which I don't think is any less valid no matter how cliché, was being in love, or at least thinking I was, for the first time. No matter it didn't last, the first person to express such a joy in your company, and help you to realize yourself in a new light is an experience like none other. It was lovely.

Third was weaving, which extends to any act wherein I give myself permission to do what I love. In college, the moment I embraced giving up art and fell in love with making all over again I was weaving. In Morocco, well you can read back for all the bazillion reasons I loved living and learning there. And now, to be all encompassing (am I cheating?), is each day I live farming-doing what I love. But seriously, I need to weave. It's been horribly long, and nothing calms my soul, except maybe the ocean, as much as weaving.

And throughout all this usual mind-sauntering, I was of course working. Sweeping the barn, setting up two new brooders for the near two hundred more New Hampshire chicks hatching today through Saturday. I can hear them chirping in the incubator as I type. Then bringing more bedding to dear Toshi, one of our awesome Large Black Pigs who just farrowed Tuesday. The piglets are to die for; I can't imagine farming without them. Then the vet showed up and I got to see the ultra-sound for our ewe that had a prolapsed uterus a few weeks ago. Turns out she is still pregnant, but not due for about a month. So we sent her back out with the flock and will just have to keep close watch. After the third (of four) milk feedings to the kids (goats), I went nuts on the Oriental Bittersweet, a nasty invasive species, where the goat fence needs to be set up. I love invasive species removal, it's a fulfilling, and I like to think healthy, form of destruction. It reminded me of the days removing Tamarisk from the river bottom when I worked for the OVLC. I then moved through the evening chores as this beautiful spring day wound down, and despite my incredible and constant tiredness, knew I had to stay up late to write this darn update.

In addition to the usual excitement of daily farm life, my mom is coming! April 15-22 she's here! I was actually really bummed on Passover for not being able to make it home; it was my sixth year in a row away! Of course I've celebrated well since; awesome Seders at Professor Katz's each year of college, and then throwing my own Seders both years in Morocco, but seriously, the last time I was home for Passover I was a teenager! So I promise to be home, inshallah, next year. That's all I got for now, good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite! (and no mussed up dreams please)

Life is good

2010-03-09T11:40:00.001-08:00

I'm so behind I don't even know where to start! Beginning with now seems to be the only way. I'm hanging out in a café on my first day off in a long while that is actually relaxing (the past few were hectic) and I'm loving it. I didn't really want to leave for our first babies of the year (aside from seedlings in the greenhouse) began hatching last night-New Hampshire chicks! But they will continue hatching until tomorrow, totaling around 200 if all goes well, so I won't miss all the excitement. And then another round of eggs will begin to incubate.

The weather this week has been glorious; mid-forties which makes everything more pleasant-waking up, milking, doing chores, it's all better when you can feel your hands, or even free yourself from a couple layers of clothing. I just made what is likely my biggest purchase of the month-skype credit-to call some of my best friends and dearly missed in Morocco- both Moroccans and Americans and I'm all smiles now. I miss them all so much still.

Goodness now that I actually have a moment to sit and write I don't know what to write about. We've been doing a lot of meat curing; brining and smoking bacon, hocks, tails, ears, feet, as well as making lard, lardo, guanciale, etc. Soon we'll be making scrapple and a last round of bacon and other smoked meats before spring. We've also been organizing the freezer and inventorying all the meat that's coming back from slaughter- 6 Large Black pigs and two Scottish Highland steers (getting those two into a trailer was an adventure to report on as well). And eating copious amounts of said meat as well.

Then there's the garden aspect; all the seed orders have come in so we're making zillions of seed blocks, sowing and germinating the first crops of the season and planning and pacing out the garden. We're taking on a lot this year, over-doubling our garden space and implementing a cover crop rotation. We are also collecting eggs and scheduling and preparing for all the hatching, incubating, brooding and eventual slaughter dates for all these future birds. I'm learning so much here every day, listing it all this way just doesn't do any of it justice, maybe I should pick subjects out of a hat. In addition to all the big projects are the daily chores and attention paid to every aspect of running a healthy farm. Animals, land and people alike.

I naively hoped I had had enough personal growth for a lifetime in Peace Corps, and now would be all about farming experience and education. How silly I can be. There are the practical and straight forward lessons about how to farm of course, but the twisted, confusing an awkward path toward maturity and wisdom continues endlessly. It's a joy and such torture to grow. Old habits remain and allowing myself to be a victim of my insecurity keeps me from being strong. Not to get too into it here, but I'm definitely having to take a close look at the way I am weak and dumb so long as I believe myself to be weak and dumb. It's a horrible cop-out to say, well I can't do that cuz I'm too stupid to know how to. Can you imagine how annoying that is? Well I notice myself doing that ALL too often. But I'm aware and working on it, step by step right?

It's a difficult learning process; to get better at something while you're still learning how to do it. A mushy recipe of common sense, practice, good judgment and knowing how to ask the right questions. My progress is also slowed by simple skills I just never got, like math for example. Dammit they were right! It is practical! It began with poor education, then I reinforced my lack of basic mathematical knowledge by believing I didn't need it. It's embarrassing how poor I am at math, it's like reading I suppose; everyone needs it and if you don't develop the skill at a young age, it becomes more and more difficult to acquire. And maybe not everyone needs it, had I stayed an artist maybe, but a farmer certainly does! So there's another whole box-o-knowledge I gotta work on.

On a more positive note, I think my skills of adaptation are strong. I'm scarily good at making a home wherever I go, which makes it ever harder to leave, but that's a long ways off for now… I'm also just gloriously happy here. Having discovered what I want to do with my life, gotten myself onto the path, and doing it, well it's wonderful. I know how difficult it can be, if not impossible, for the majority of people to feel or be in charge when it comes to the career they take on and subsequently the way of life they live.

I am immensely grateful every day for being able to pursue what I love and am fulfilled by, and for the upbringing that made this possible. Since my mom got out of the worst of situations and onto a better life, she always made it clear by her actions the importance being fulfilled by both life and work and how intertwined that connection is. Many people can do a job they hate and come home to a home they love, but that was never the way of my mother. I remember when she decided to only work a certain number of nights per week in order to actually be home with her children. She was on a new career path, one she was very committed to and fulfilled by, but she was also a mother and knew that being both meant priorities and sacrifices. To value, respect and raise her children, we all had to take a bit of a cut in income in order to raise the wealth that is closeness of family. I remember not wholly agreeing with this at the time, as I was always worried about money, but later realized the importance of this change and it instilled in me the same values.

I don't know if any of this had made much sense, but what I have learned from her is that living well is living fully, maintaining both a home and what supports that home with integrity and passion. Farming is a way of life and a career in which I plan to accomplish both. Not having three kids in tow will hopefully give me a better start, but I don't expect anything to come easily. Life is good, and I hope all yours are going good as well. I finally got some pictures up on facebook, so check those out and I leave you with this bad-ass Pilgrim Goose (the ganders are white). She's so cool.

my little Magribi below the Mulberry

2010-02-11T18:30:00.001-08:00

I know, I know, I have not been keeping up here. Haven't been keeping up with myself either; I'm used to journaling every day, but have been so busy here I've only been able to write once a week-on my day off, which was today. This meant sleeping in (so wonderful), knitting and coffee at one café, taking myself out for Indian food and then a movie (how romantic eh?) and then heading to another café for more writing and actually using my cell phone. Days off are good, but lonely and awkward as I do not yet know many people around here, and I'm well refreshed and ready to wake up at the freezing crack of dawn the next morning for continuing the exhausting life and work I live for. I'm far too tired to write a sufficient update, so I leave you all with the view I walked out to this morning. It's Bu atop a (currently dormant) beehive under a Mulberry tree I recently pruned. You can't see the animals in this shot, but the dairy cow and sheep pastures are in view as well as part of the barn and shed. More pictures forthcoming.

knee deep in the compost heap

2010-01-20T17:45:00.001-08:00

One week. I am completely exhausted but happy. It shouldn't amaze me so much how something so simple as doing what makes you happy, heck, makes you happy. There are highs and lows; working with ice and snow can really be a challenge, but then you go feed the pigs and they somehow cheer you right up. I don't really know where to begin, how to summarize my first week as an apprentice here. Busy. That's the short version. I've been learning so many new things every day, and every day is a challenge.

Yesterday I used an old-fashioned tortilla press and don't think I can ever go back to rolling with a little plastic glass (much as I loved those times Nat!) Physically it's challenging, the sitting on my ass for two years did me no good and I can feel it. Moving 50lbs at a time, and those times are often, is tough now but I grow stronger each day. Today I found a new love-splitting wood. Never in my life did I picture myself swinging a large, sharp, metal object into the air, much less enjoying it! This morning my boss Dominic asked if Josh (the other current apprentice here, he started a couple months ago) had yet taught me "the zen of wood-splitting." My usual awkward laugh and familiar stomach lurch of fear of the unknown followed and then we moved through the motions of another day on the farm.

Soon after climbing out of the compost heap (I had to bury some old livers and manage the top level) it was time to test my "zen." The ax seemed to weigh a ton and flop like a fish in my hands. After a quick lesson and a few awkward swings something switched; with each hard whack and beautiful sound of wood splitting I got better and understood the correct stance and technique. Any tension and all the usual uncertainty that comes with beginning something new floated further and further away each time I aimed and followed through a perfect split. Completely awesome. Any day that ends with you having an entirely new skill set and the accompanying confidence it instills is a great day. Tomorrow's challenge may not end with such glory, but becoming capable of doing what I once thought I could not is what I must remember in times when the work is most difficult. Well don't I sound like a little know-it-all, sorry. A little feeling of bad-assery comes after splitting wood, forgive me.

So where to go from here? I want to talk about all the other new skills I'm acquiring, and the incredible animals that test me. Milking? Premium example of practice makes perfect. Mimi is a forgiving lass and seems to just smile knowingly as I wear myself out pleading the gift of milk out of her. But each morning my hands understand the motion better and I remain patient. Driving steers? I had no idea I would be learning to drive working oxen, but it's true. A former apprentice keeps his two young and beautiful steers here and trains both them and us a couple days a week. I've always had great difficulty in directing animals (or people for that matter), as I really prefer to be told what to do. Horses have always sensed my lack of confidence and take advantage and the steers are no different. So learning to direct steers may teach me a few things in other aspects of my life as well.

All the animals here are great, maybe I'll try to feature different ones each time I write. Just want to make a quick note though on how much I freaking love pigs! They are just so wonderful, smart, hilarious, oh I just love them and will write more on them soon. The number one animal, and man, in my life remains my dear Bu. The other cats haven't quite warmed to him yet, but hopefully soon. He's happy anyhow and, as I always knew, he thrives outdoors. Galloping around the farm like a gazelle, it's adorable. We both have trouble with the cold, and spooning at night is a must. I know it's ridiculous but I don't care.

I'll post pictures soon of the lovely cabin, I really miss my mud hut, but I'm definitely loving my living situation here as well. Let's see, what else? Food? No worries, I'm eating very well. And I must soon post on the glories of lard. We have such a ridiculous misconception of and hatred for this most amazing cooking aid. I've also had a fair amount of venison this week, not bad. Also on the food subject, when not feeding, mucking, moving, watering or otherwise for the animals that feed us here, or dealing with all the weather that makes this process evermore difficult, we're inside planning for planting!

We only plant about an acre, but jeez it takes a lot of planning. Inventorying seed, going over successes and failures from previous years, discussing what we want to plant, mapping beds, calculating what, where, how far apart and when all these things will be planted and harvested, and soon - ordering seed! One farmer I know said when a seed catalog came in her husband started flipping through it with glee and exclaimed, "it's like porn!" And now I understand his excitement. Um, ok this was way random but I thought I ought to post an update. I am very well and hope you all are too. I seriously need to get to bed, its only 8:15 but I'm dead tired and we have another long day tomorrow. Much love to all and send me updates!

here i go

2010-01-11T15:15:00.000-08:00

So after bidding goodbye to my dear family in Washington Saturday, January 2^nd, I flew back to California and spent an evening with my uncle’s family and my Nana. Though it was a quick visit it was wonderful. Sunday Morning my Aunt Laura drove me all the way back to Ojai and we went for a beautiful ride in part of the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy (the land I worked to protect as an intern the summer before Peace Corps) with my mom. Her business is going well by the way and I highly recommend going for a ride in Ojai if you need a breather! It was so beautiful and I still can’t fully comprehend why I’m so intent on moving so far away yet again. And then my whirlwind two days-before-moving-to-the-east-coast began.

That night I randomly bumped into Ms. Anaise, my old high school English teacher who truly opened my eyes and helped me to develop the way in which we put our thoughts to paper-writing (not to mention the time she saved my life! I stopped breathing, hey, it happens). She invited me to come speak to her current students about my experience, and possibly inspire some kids to think about Peace Corps as an option in their futures. Though nervous, I just couldn’t resist. I managed to run all my errands on Monday so that I could spend Tuesday speaking to her students.

It was SO weird to step into Ventura High School as a true adult. Getting a visitors pass made me feel supremely old. Late for class and shaky, I made it and spent four periods talking to juniors. I must take a moment to thank them immensely for their interest and sweet comments (they got extra credit for reading my blog, and for that I must apologize, it can be dry). They were full of questions about everything from the Peace Corps application process to living in a mud house, Moroccan cuisine to living in a Muslim country, how we party there to gender roles and relationships. It was awesome, and I truly hope they enjoyed my answers as much as I enjoyed their questions. Particularly as an RPCV, sharing our experiences is Peace Corps goal 3: “Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans” and I hope to do it again.

After that delightful day in school I finally headed to the beach. I’d driven by it numerous times, but shamefully, hadn’t stepped foot on the sand or in the water since returning to America! I know, I can hardly believe it myself. Leaving my shoes in the car, I walked out onto the terrain I know best. The sand was cool as it was nearly sunset and only the fear of hypothermia kept me from completely diving into the water. The Pacific in January is freezing! I plopped down and let the calm set in of being so at home next to the water. Whenever I allow myself the time to sit there I am refreshed. It still amazes me how oblivious so many Californians are of the incredible beauty that surrounds them on a daily basis. Is that why I’m moving away? To get away from the lack of appreciation? No, its not like there will be more in Massachusetts. I know my standards are impossibly high, but I aim for them nonetheless. I pondered my decision to leave yet again in those moments on the beach, and while I cant express any real conclusions, I remain wholeheartedly committed to my choice. Something in me is saying go, and so I follow. My instincts are right far more often than my reason, so it’s quite reasonable to trust them.

After a stressful night of packing while trying to let my mom sleep, we headed out to breakfast with my grandparents and sister Michelle before Mom, Bu and I headed to the airport. After a sweet goodbye I dove into the insanity that is LAX and after over two hours of security made it onto my flight just in time. The tranquilizers for Buggid worked like a charm this time and one layover and plane change later I was in Indiana.

From the top of possibly the slowest and longest escalator in the world I spotted the pink figure of joy that is my best friend/roomate/heterosexual soul-mate/other half/etc. Ashley. I squealed just a bit as I tried desperately not to scream and when I finally got off that damn escalator we all but knocked each other over. I have to admit I was a bit nervous about our reunion. People change, our lives had taken such different paths, two years was a long time, yada yada, but holy moley, you’d think not a week had gone by. Though vastly changed as people, our friendship is exactly as it was-completely delightful. I can’t begin to express how happy I’ve been this week with her. I’m just all smiles.

Even covered in snow, she’s given me a fabulous tour of Bloomington and her grand campus of IU, the recycling center, etc., we even went wine tasting and I’m a convert! I’m the one that hates wine, but apparently shitty Moroccan wine really isn’t the way to go. On the way home with a bottle of Oliver I realized aloud, “Ashley, maybe I’m not a cheap date anymore.” Of course I still am tolerance-wise as was shown a couple nights later. She somehow coerced me into watching stoopid football with her wonderful friends before going out to the Hairbangers Ball. It was amazing, we (me in particular) got completely smashed and danced like there was no tomorrow to awesome 80’s covers. Wow.

Today was the first day of classes and I was lucky enough to attend one class with her, Art, Craft and Technology in Subsaharan Africa. It was wonderful and I deeply miss living in Africa. I appreciate even more today how happy I am to not be in school anymore. It was cool, and odd, to be on a real, working campus again and hang out with grad students, and see how happy and thriving Ashley is there, and how happy and thriving I am to not be there. It’s good to know these things about ourselves, and to accept them.

I’m just waiting for her to come home now for tonight, my last night. We’re having Chinese delivered, popping open that bottle of wine, watching movies, doing henna and relaxing. Tomorrow Bu and I fly to New Hampshire, have a wonderful evening at the Coes’s, and Thursday I drive to Sheffield and life at Moon in the Pond Farm begins. Bismillah farming!

the next big move

2009-12-31T01:46:00.001-08:00

So long 2009, onto a bright new year, inshallah. I've been trying to write for ages but it's all been coming out too whiny, lame, or just disorganized (but I guess that's not really new). This past month has been very busy; full of positive happenings but also great difficulty. Readjustment sucks (picture me as the scrooge), and I just haven't been able to work through it all with much grace, except on the farm. This time with family has been wonderful to reconnect- my mom, my grandparents, my brother and sister, Bill, some friends from way back when, Linsey from the Peace Corps, my dad and Gail and my other two sisters, and the list goes on.

But I could not be more ready to get to work. The work I've been planning to do for over a year now. After a wonderful visit to the Northeast, I have taken a full year apprenticeship position at Moon in the Pond Farm in Sheffield, Massachusetts. I am enormously eager to begin. And I'm leaving it at that for now. There is so much more to tell about this decision, how I came to it, what we do in these cold months (because yes, farming is a year-round job) but you're just going to have to wait until I get everything all worked out in my own darn head first. I'm in Washington now, I'll be back down to California on the 2^nd, I leave the 6^th for Indiana, have a few days with my Ashley, and then on January 13^th I move to Massachusetts. I wish you all a wonderful new year; let's make it a good one!

back on American soil

2009-11-24T13:44:00.001-08:00

I told you all I'd be a basket case. My body is back on American soil, but my heart still lingers in Morocco. How can it be the wettest week of my life when the sky has only been clear and beautiful? When the water is falling from my face.

It's been the most painful week of my life; insanely busy, full of tragedy, some great highs and deep lows. I had some of the best meals, last tea dates, and introduced the new volunteer (I hate calling her my "replacement") to Ait Hamza and tried so hard find a way to say goodbye without it hurting so much. Well that proved to be impossible. On top of it all, the evening of November 16^th, while sitting at one of my favorite families house for the last time, Natalie and I got news from Peace Corps that So Youn Kim, a fellow PCV, had passed away. I had only met her once, and it was horribly shocking and terrible to hear one of our peers had passed away. I don't have any details except that it was an unexpected illness and left her no time. My heart goes out to her family for I can't even imagine their pain. When Natalie and I told the family we were sitting with they were deeply saddened as well and voiced many phrases having to do with God helping her parents.

In such a family-oriented society, Moroccans are always asking about our families and how we can possibly spend so much time away from them. I have spent over two years in Morocco without my family, so when So Youn passed away, they understood that her parents had not seen her for some time before it. It was just so awful, and I had no idea how to deal with it on top of the emotional rollercoaster I was already on. Natalie and I headed back to my house and we tried to keep things light while I packed my bags and spent my last night in Ait Hamza.

The next morning we headed to my host families house where I was given nearly two kilos of homemade shabakia and a beautiful pillow before heading to my favorite woman's house, Khalti Khshu's. I kept my composure at her house, and she accompanied us to the Cooperative. We took some pictures, made promises of reunion, and then I made it through approximately three goodbyes before I totally lost it and became a heaving ball of tears. The women fell into the same shape and I felt like my heart was being completely torn open. I could hardly look at half of them, and just hope they know how much I love them.

(last moments at Cooperative Atma)

My mom and sister accompanied me back to my house and I continued to weep as I said goodbye to my mud abode and went to wait on the road for transport. Normally getting a ride out of Ait Hamza takes no more than ten minutes, but this morning, when I needed it most, it took nearly an hour. With the help of Natalie and Emily (the new PCV), I managed to mail a giant package in Ifrane, and get into Azrou in one piece. My transport luck only worsened that day as the bus I planned to take to Rabat was full, so another PCV and I had to pay nearly double and take taxis the whole way, it was awful.

(my ma and me)

The next morning, Wednesday, November 18^th, my entire staj met at the Peace Corps office for our "72hour checkout". COS (Close of Service) is normally a sad and exciting time, but this morning we were all quite solemn. With the unexpected loss of So Youn, our wonderful Country Director, David Lillie, kept the meeting simple and talked about plans for her memorial service a couple days later. Many PCVs began to arrive that day and the next for the service and general volunteer support, including one of my best friends, Moira. Though I wish it were under more positive circumstances, it was great to see her again. She's one of those people who makes me happy every time I see her.

(this is our dear Moira here)

On Thursday I finished all my medical stuff and Natalie arrived with my baby boy. Around midnight Casey flew back from Cairo, and by morning we were all together again. After some last signatures, around 2pm I stamped out and became an RPCV (which stands for Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, not Retired a my mom thought). All wobbly, we headed back to the hotel and had a nice time at a big restaurant with most of my staj. Lots of hugs and goodbyes, none of it seeming very real, and completely drunk after one beer, we went to bed around midnight to prepare for the long trip ahead.

(stamping out)

(Qasiminu d Naimanu)

Not going to the Memorial service for So Youn Saturday morning was a difficult decision, but it went very well and I hope everyone is grieving and healing as best possible. Instead Nat, Casey, Bu and I kept our plan to head down to Essouira for our good friend's birthday and my last night in Morocco. I felt like a real adult as I rented a car and we headed south. Essa was beautiful and keeping all the pain and tragedies at arm's length, we had a fine evening of dancing, music and drinking. It was wonderful until late in the evening the awesomeness of my friends got to be too much for me and I hid away with the water works flowing again. But Casey and Nat are just too wonderful; they found me, we hugged, soon curled up on ponjes and I fell into a short but comfortable sleep knowing my best friends were near. Sunday we explored Essa a bit, ate some good food, and bid goodbye in the afternoon and began the long drive back to Casablanca for my late flight out.

(Casey and I in the Essa medina)

(us)

I had the idea somehow that saying goodbye to my American friends would be less painful than my Moroccan friends because I was sure to see them again sooner, oh how very wrong I was et again. I don't think either was more painful than the other, and I really thought there was no moisture left in my entire body for tears, but in that darn airport, having to say goodbye to the two people I love most in Morocco, it all became real and this time my heart, already torn open, was now being pulled completely out of my chest. I have made so many incredible friendships in Morocco, and will hold onto them, but knowing we will never live alongside one another as we did there, ever again, is what hurts most. I'll never come into my ferno room with a big pile of yummy food to Casey and Natalie's happy, waiting faces. So, snotty and soaked, and with the deepest hugs ever, I went through the most difficult goodbye of my life. I did want to see my family stateside, but I couldn't want to see America less. After they left I crumpled, tried to calm Bu as the tranquilizers took effect, and wept until I somehow managed to make it on the plane.

Completely exhausted by grief and lack of real rest, I slept through most of my flight to Rome, and the next to Paris. I even slept the first seven of my 11 hour flight from Paris to LA. Bu did so well most of the way, it wasn't til the last ten minutes, as we began our decent into LA that he finally lost it and emptied his entire bladder in his carrier and onto my lap. Reeking of cat piss, depressed and exhausted, I got through customs in about a minute and spotted a gigantic figure crossing the street outside. I couldn't believe it was my brother, but sure enough it was. He grew at least a foot since I left, my god. Being probably the worst version of myself I greeted him and mom with deep hugs and we spent the next couple hours in the welcoming traffic of LA.

We went to my grandparent's house for a bit, and I had some amazing broccoli despite my terrible plane-food stomach cramps and then headed off to Costco. Costco is certainly not the first place of business I felt comfortable entering upon return to the states, but it was as good a time as any to get on my mom's family plan and a new phone. I have absolutely no idea how to use the thing. My favorite and only fancy aspect of my beloved Moroccan phone was a flashlight on the top. In my opinion, a phone needs nothing more. The phone I have now was free with the plan, but comes with all sorts of shit I'll never need or want and opens up into a whole other computer like gadget I don't understand. Ugh.

Feeling worse by the moment, passing billboards and so many white people and so much concrete, we finally arrived at my mom's new place. I got Bu settled in and soon headed to bed with the awful ache of change. Like some huge beak-up, this awful ache you feel will never subside, of being back in this world that you had left so long ago, been completely changed, and never wanted to return to. The ache of not wanting to get used to it all again, of not wanting to become tolerant of the American way of life I so despise. I've got to get back to the soil soon, and I will.

Jet-lag woke me up around 4am because it was noon in Morocco and I felt like smiling may forever be impossible. A few hours later mom and I got up, got the horses ready and took off for a ride downtown. It was the best way to spend my first morning back. It was a fine, crisp morning. I looked around at the beautiful mountains surrounding Ojai and my eyes welled with tears as the first thing I thought was, "I gotta get Nat and Casey over this weekend to go hiking". My heart wrenched again and I felt sick. But on a horse, surrounded by beauty, and alongside the woman that gave me life, I really could not complain.

We arrived at the sweet little downtown coffee shop and mom held the horses while I went in. The cute young girl behind the counter couldn't possibly understand how insane I felt holding a $20 bill and about to make my first purchase in America. Eyes wide, I managed to order (in English it felt so weird) and fumbled with the change like a three year-old. It was a delightful breakfast. I ordered a small mocha, but it was the size of a soup bowl in Morocco, and a cheese-ridden bagel with cream cheese on top. I tried to not feel guilty for enjoying it.

We hopped back on the horses, and as we rode back home I felt an shwiya bit of comfort and faith that I might one day feel ok here. Now I'm hiding out in the house and chattin with Bu in Tamazight because I miss speaking it aleady. I'm organizing my trip next week to Massachusetts and this afternoon I'll see my sister and practice driving in America. I love you all; can't wait to see everyone at Thanksgiving, others sometime soon and my beloved ones in Morocco, know that I miss you like lost limbs already.

Things I’ll Miss

2009-11-12T05:40:00.001-08:00

5 days left in Ait Hamza, 11 in Morocco. So sad and nervous, but also excited for what is to come. The contradicting feelings are forming the worst emotional soup. Bubbling and burning but inshallah it will come out alright. Reverse culture shock is going to be a bitch. There's no other way to put it. However, prospects are looking good, and if all goes well I'll be spending my first season back as intended-in the dirt. Of course these jobs entail far more than dirt, but it's the start. After not even a full week at home, I'll be flying to the northeast for interviews. I'm hoping I can articulate my desire to farm despite all the English I've lost. Nervousness spans all right now. My question is, what does one wear to a farming apprenticeship position interview?

The past couple months, among my many list pilings, I've made some about Morocco. Here, in no particular order, I share Things I'll Miss, which FAR outnumber the Things I Won't Miss. Enjoy.

The greetings; the confusing kissing, the hand to ones heart, the no-less-than 6 ways you must ask how the other is doing

Time with Khalti Khshu, time with all the ladies really

Chickens roaming everywhere

The light switches

Sitting on the ground and FOB squatting

Waiting for sheep and goat herds to pass

Hanging laundry on the roof

Donkey brays

The Turkish toilet

My kitchen floor

Swings inside my house

My bamboo ceiling which allows for hanging such things as swings

Our mountains

Time for reading

Time for thinking

Wool jellabas

The 3am drummer boy during Ramadan

The Boojlood

The hammam

Being congratulated for learning Tamazight rather than Arabic

My aquarium painted house

The buta bomb that is my oven

Couscous

Sleep over's

Men riding donkeys with their feet hitting the ground

Cracking my own walnuts and almonds

My inferno

Living without a fridge, or microwave; actually, living with only one kitchen appliance which needs electricity-a blender

My wonderfully depleted anxiety

Living among Muslims

Reusing jars (though I will keep this up)

All the many delicious fried breads

Couchsurfers and the side of Morocco they are able to experience here

Reading Arabic even though I don't know the meaning

The call to prayer

Paying with cash and never getting receipts

Eating chicken mere hours after slaughter, same goes for sheep and goat

People who don't waste because they can't afford to, if only we could all be so aware

Living in the Middle Atlas

Teaching Moroccans how to use ziplocks, and learning how silly and unnecessary they are

Baking for the cooperative and them enjoying it

The sound of the taska (the handheld beater for weaving)

Words in Tamaight and Arabic that don't exist in English

Kneading dough for bread

hiking

Fresh olive oil sold in soda bottles

Living somewhere where I can leave a passed out cat behind the counter at a café, come back hours later to pick it up and everyone is fine

TRUST

Eating in the cyber

The few moments at dusk when the mountains turn pink

Being Neddia

My guard dog Harry

Being able to tell by sight how fresh the bread I'm about to eat is

Homemade butter

Children's home-made toys; milk carton purses, oil bottle string instruments and scrap metal cars

My host mom's pitch

Dogs on roofs (they are also far less dangerous this way)

Excitement over red-ball cheese

Casey's tooth brushing complexities

Women walking cows on leashes

God phrases

My sitemate Natalie

Telling them how much I've walfed and don't want to return to crazy America, and being called miskina (poor thing)

walf

2009-11-04T09:21:00.001-08:00

I am finding it so hard to stop myself from doing what is most painful - thinking in endings. Oh my goodness, this is my last full moon in Morocco, this is the second to last time I'll hamam, this is the last time I'll have tea at so-n-so's house. I'm cracking. I'm frozen and numb with fear of leaving and the missing. I'm crazy busy wrapping up the life I've built here. I'm scrambling to organize the life there is to begin in the states.

Mostly I'm sad. So overwhelmingly sad to leave a place and people I love so much. It's such an impossible to remedy pain too, for I don't want to stay, or leave. I hate limbo and that's where I am. Changes, ugh. A good amount of the sadness comes from knowing I'll never be able to be right here again. Everything will be different when I leave. When I return it will be just as a visitor. I won't ever live here, with these people, at this age, ever again. I hate change and yet I'm someone who willingly walks into impermanence. Like "expiration dating" (Casey's term), I hate it! Arg!

I don't mean to whine, but I am. I've walfed. Walf is the verb in Tamazight "to get used to", and I have been hearing it every day lately. They have walfed to me, I have walfed to them, oh transitions. I don't want to apologize for the very different person I am returning to America, for it's a far more focused, happy and balanced person, but I am sorry if I offend. If I'm un-relatable and complainy, or sad and withholding. Who knows. I'll walf back to the states, but it's going to take some time.

I have 12 days left in Ait Hamza and I can't comprehend this.

shoof gr taddartinu

2009-10-26T02:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a little video i took of the lovely mud house i've made my home these past two years. I apologize for the very poor lighting, but you get the idea. I leave Morocco one month from today and am still scared shitless. I fall more and more in love with this place as i come closer and closer to leaving it. It hurts. And it's going to hurt more.

Ait Hamza illa taman ulinu ku yas

2009-10-16T10:40:00.001-07:00

It's a good week. After a long crafty weekend with friends I finalized my letter, resume and references and on Wednesday applied to a number of farms in Massachusetts. Inshallah I'll hear back soon and begin the next round of the application process (don't worry, I'm still going to apply to some on the west coast as well). Thursday I helped Nat teach health lessons at the school in one of our further douars and then today, after months of wanting, I finally got my tattoo!

For those that don't know, ahdjamn (tattoos) have always been a big part of Amazigh (Berber) tradition, but, like weaving, it's a dying art. Nearly all the old women in my village have beautiful facial tattoos. (check this out to see pics of a couple ladies in my village, the one on the right is Khalti Kshu, one of my favorite women in the world!) Some even have tattoos all around the jaw line and on their chin. Many have them on their arms, hands and feet as well. So for a number of reasons, I have wanted a tattoo myself and have had a design picked for months. In the usual Moroccan fashion, the ordeal was made out to be so much scarier than it actually was. I was told all the tattooers had come to pass for no one wants them anymore (it doesn't exactly jive with Islam) and the women that did know were skittish and kept repeating, "idamn, idamin!" ("blood, blood!")

But even with the expectation of gushing rivers of blood, I still wanted it, and my host ma agreed to do it. So this afternoon, after a morning of sorting wheat, we went to the roof. My ma held a sewing needle, Nat had two fully charged cameras, my host niece and nephew had their energy and I had my wits, or most of them anyway. Despite my wannabe daredevil persona, it was relatively painless and took all of about 10 minutes. She then rubbed in some kind of green plant, then the charcoal, wrapped me up, warned me to keep it covered until it was healed (its harem for men to see a woman bleeding) and sent me on my way. I met up with another woman I know well on my way back and she added another green plant "for color." She warned me to not drink any milk until it healed or it would turn white and we wouldn't see it. How I love these people. In the following photo you can see our beautiful mountains, my adorable host nephew Morad and a bit of my ma's facial tattoo. Close-up's and video coming soon.

Ah, and the title of this blog is Ait Hamza is next to my heart every day. After shaking hands here, you bring your hand to your heart, a habit I really don't want to break upon return stateside. Due to the placement of my tattoo, I will be bringing Ait Hamza back to my heart every day, no matter how far away.

rabbit rabbit!

2009-10-01T09:54:00.001-07:00

So I have been doing a fair amount of research lately, as you may well know, on farming internships and just wanted to share an article from Civil Eats entitled Farming Apprenticeships: Payment Beyond the Dollar by Mary Kathryn Wyle, a fantastic gal doing just what I plan to be doing next season. She's very articulate so I share her words justifying this lifestyle I'm embarking upon (her blog is great too, read it!).

And Civil Eats is awesome, as they put it, "Civil Eats promotes critical thought about sustainable agriculture and food systems as part of building economically and socially just communities. In our efforts, we support the development of a dialog among local and national leaders about the American food system, and its effects abroad. Civil Eats can be humorous, serious, academic, philosophical, conversational – its style of conversation is as diverse as its 40+ contributors – but it is always thought provoking, innovative, and focused on food politics."

I know many people back home worry that this may not be a proper venture for me, but I assure you it is! I have never been so excited and driven to move from one part of my life to another. My experience here has been wonderful and as it ends I gratefully turn to the next chapter; bri learns to farm. Hope you enjoy the article and this most beautiful first day of October!

East or West?

2009-09-20T06:48:00.001-07:00

Alongside the total trauma of knowing I will be leaving Morocco in two months, I have the exhilarating and stressful task of deciding where the heck I'm going at that point. Farm internships begin around March or April and I need to begin applying now, but ack! Too many opportunities are not something to ever complain about but I am feeling quite overwhelmed. The beautiful problem is that I'm too open to whatever and wherever. So many places and farms and things going on on those farms and in those places are interesting to me and I just can't whittle it down.

Indiana would be great since Ashley's living and going to school there. I've also always been intrigued by Montana and the Dakotas. Colorado is definitely a must but I think I'll wait until next season (I found a farm I definitely want to work on but want to have a season of experience before applying). Then there's Florida and the Southwest which I have no friends or interest in except that I love humidity and continue to dream of manatees.

The best I can really narrow it down to is the Northwest and the Northeast, which isn't narrowing it down much. By the Northwest I mean northern California, Oregon, Washington and Alaska. California of course is home; it's what I know and much of what I love but I'm tempted to stay away for I may end up there. I love it, but don't know that I'm ready to return for good yet. My dad's in southern Washington and my brother is living in Oregon now (and he has more interest in farming than most of my family), so either of those could work. Then, far from both sides of the family, but still within reach, I could go to northern Washington and southern Alaska, wherein lie some very temping farms.

And then there's the opposite coast, particularly Massachusetts, Maine and New Hampshire. I've always had a desire to spend some time in the Northeast; to know for sure whether I'm really a west coaster. I think I am, but I just want to have a taste of the east. A big pro is that my older sister-like-cousin Danielle is currently at Harvard and it would be really cool to live near her. As we grow older I feel like we have more and more in common while seeing one another less and less. There is a dizzying number of amazing farms to work with there, in Maine alone I could be kept working for years. So is it silly to want to move somewhere new and unknown for awhile when really all I want to do is begin to settle down and find my own place? And how shitty of me would it be to pack up and move halfway back to Africa three months after returning home? Or is it also what I need to do- to be "home" in America, but not under the same roof? To get a taste of someplace new in a land that isn't? I just don't know. If I did the Northwest first, would I still want to try the Northeast? Or vice versa? And what if I did fall in love with the Northeast? I don't want to live that far away from family forever…

I continue to wait for some outside source to influence this important decision, which is often my method, but I know it's really my responsibility. I so want to have a real plan for when I step off that plane in America. I'm terrified of the readjustment period, the reverse culture shock, the many moments I will face such a deep missing and fear that I won't be able to continue living simply in a land where nothing is simple.

My tentative plan (have I mentioned it here before?) is to spend our wonderful giant family Thanksgiving in the usual park, bum around southern California, spend time with family and long lost friends, and work the horses with mom in her new business until mid-December. Then I'll hopefully convince someone to road trip up to Washington with me, visiting my old Peace Corps buddy Linsey and my dear brother along the way. I'll probably stay around my dad's until a bit after the New Year and then I'll have to find my way to the mid-west. It would be great to road trip out there too, but I don't know who'll be up for it. I'm going to do some talks at KCAI, to open those poor art school kid's eyes to other options with their silly art degrees, and visit all my wonderful professors and friends. Then I'll head to Indiana for some serious time, hopefully a couple weeks or more, with my dear Ashley. After that its intern time; the time I begin real work on the life I've dreamed of fully living.

two years on African soil

2009-09-14T04:33:00.001-07:00

That's right; Friday was my two year anniversary of living in Morocco. I haven't been able to get my head out of the, "holy shit I'm leaving" hole since COS conference and this great landmark just keeps me going. These worries and something about Ramadan have been keeping me far away from sleep so the other night I gave up on my to-do list, plopped on a ponj and opened up my old journals. From my last year of college to the present, I reread the past three years of my life.

Reading old entries is like watching really old episodes of a show you've nearly forgotten about. You remember the basic events, but by watching it you relive the details, the things you only record in the moment. It's sweet and nostalgic, and incredibly eye-opening; it's far easier to recognize your growth when you see how young and naïve you once were. I've been writing a lot lately, which is no new thing, but particularly on how much I've changed. Most of my bad habits remain, but I feel my character is so much stronger, my values defined, my commitment to a direction strong. And this is good.

Two years down, two and a half months to go. Here is a photo (courtesy of Natalie) of the way I've been passing these long Ramadan days of fasting, and I absolutely love it. Khalti Aicha, Khalti Khshu and Sfia, some of my favorite ladies and best weaving company.

the last day of August

2009-09-01T10:27:00.000-07:00

(written last night)

Sorry I haven’t updated recently; it’s Ramadan and I’m moving slowly. I am fasting except for water, and no that doesn’t mean I don’t eat for a month. We break the fast at sundown and have fdur (breakfast), and then a drummer boy comes around town around 3am to wake everyone up to eat “dinner” before sunrise. It’s a crazy upside down and backwards month and terrible for your body, but whatev, here’s to cross-cultural experiences! I’ve been doing fine so far, minus some belly unhappiness with the new deal and the heat combined with fasting tends to leave me a tad grumpy.

Though it’s a lazy time, it’s also totally crazy! The second day of Ramadan my whole staj had to meet in Rabat for our COS (Close of Service) Conference. And I really didn’t wanna go. I’m not in denial about leaving, but still don’t want to talk about the reality all that much. The conference was fine, a lot of feeling talk, blah blah blah, I don’t want to get into it as I was actively making myself dislike it. Plus I was fasting.

But anyway, the reality remains-I’m leaving Morocco and home as I know it in less than three months. To sum up the feeling quickly, it’s a rumbling belly. Yes I have to use a food metaphor because my belly spends most of these days rumbling away. I’m caught between two grand meals-Morocco and America. Ok this metaphor so isn’t working, maybe just queasy describes it better. I’m hungry to start my life; I am living in the real world here, but in America I’ll be able to put what I’ve learned into practice and begin my “real” life there. I hate being so inarticulate. I just had a huge fdur at my neighbors so I’m bloated on bread and high on coffee, forgive me.

I am completely terrified of returning, how’s that? I said that to a fellow volunteer recently and he said, “Oh don’t worry, soon after you go back, everything will go back to the way it was,” and that’s when I realized my true fear-I don’t want to go back to the way it was, not in a million years! I fear taking things for granted again and getting used to the wasteful way of living that I despise so much and that I’ve learned I live so happily without. I fear returning to the drama; of maintaining healthy relationships and healthy distances.

I’m currently reading The Art of the Commonplace; the Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry, and, well, what can I say? I love that guy. His case for community and building a household, oh it just makes so much sense and it hurts to think of how fragmented family back home is. If you can’t understand why the hell I want to farm, read some Wendell Berry. He didn’t tell me to be a farmer, I decided that, and it’s the way I would like to put into practice what I believe and much of what he teaches.

I suppose that’s it for now, I’ll update again soonish. Maybe once my long days of fasting are over. Right now it’s just a few hours of work here, some cuddling of Bu and napping there, and some random freak outs about leaving in-between. I hope you’re all well and if you know any Muslims, don’t eat in front of them right now, k?

Sweet second to last note: For an idea of the less cynical representation of COS conference check out my dear friend Liz’s most recent blog post.

Funny last note: Most stajes put together superlatives for PeaceWorks (PC Morocco’s quarterly newsletter) in the last issue before we leave. I didn’t help put it together as I am not very witty, but enjoyed what was written of me immensely. Only slightly embarrassing(ly true) but totally sweet. I also noticed more people asked how he, rather than I, was doing, while in Rabat, ha. I only hope my luck changes and he won’t be my only wonderful companion when I return stateside… “Briana Godfrey - Most likely to gush about how wonderful her companion is, leading you to believe that her companion is some rare man, until you learn he’s a kitty – a lucky kitty for getting to spend so much time with Briana”

isn't it ironic?

2009-08-09T04:18:00.000-07:00

So Thursday I bought my ticket home, and as my last post says, I felt like I was gonna barf. And it was true I felt quite woozy and emotional over the very tangible proof that my life in Morocco would so soon end. However, I didnt really think I was gonna puke. But that evening I got a little carnival food happy at the Boulemane Amazigh Festival, and yesterday, Saturday, I woke up not feeling so hot. By afternoon I was puking my brains out and more fun stuff. I was pretty sick the rest of the day and evening, but this morning-my birthday!-i woke up just fine and dandy. I think I'll stick to bananas and water for a couple days though. Anyhow, thats it for now. Love and miss you all!

bittersweet?

2009-08-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

I did it, I booked my flight home to the states, and i feel like im gonna barf. just thought id share that with you all. Mid afternoon November 23rd ill be back on american soil. too crazy to think about. also ill be 24 this sunday and that really freaks me out too. iwa

Ireland

2009-08-06T10:25:00.001-07:00

Ya I know it'd been over a month since I got back, but here, finally are my blabberings on the wonderful big trip. I highly recommend you check out some of the photos here however, as they represent the trip in a far more concise and interesting manner.

The first person I was to meet in Ireland was Leilani, the Australian gal who was the first to couch surf at my house, (and ended up soaking wet! Reread this post if you don't know what I'm talking about). She still lives in Ireland, so she came to meet me my first night in Dublin and show me a bit of the town. My flight ended up being over an hour late and, though exhausted, we began the night at midnight. We went to a bar with great live music, and I had my first Guinness ever (lame I know, but to have it on tap in the country of its birth can be the only place to start right? No really it's ruined me for life because it will never taste as good anywhere else). It was wonderful and I was so happy to be at a bar, with a buddy, and didn't feel like a creep talking to friendly locals! It was a fun time getting hit on by a sweet Irishman; even with the drink he was sincere and adorably humbled by what I do. It was quite refreshing to be hit on actually, and not in a gross or expecting way. Leilani and I wandered the city that seems to stay hilarious and drunk all night before grabbing quick pizza at around 4am. I know it was over-processed hardly passable as food food, but it was delicious at that hour, and as the sky grew lighter we returned to the hostel and I didn't even hear my head hit the pillow.

We awoke with just enough time to eat a few bites before checking out and heading to the hotel where I would meet my family. I was shaking with excitement. I didn't know the full extent of how much I missed them until I was waiting for the elevator. I knocked on the door and nearly toppled Hanna with a hug, then Mia, and Gail and my dad. I love that moment when everyone is reunited, yay! Leilani stayed for a bit and we were all chatty and dizzy with tiredness (my late night/their long flight) and then, having all kinds of different ideas of time zones, we headed to lunch.

After wonderful pesto and pizza and mushrooms and all different cheeses we came back and passed out for the afternoon, knowing there was no point in pushing ourselves to see Dublin in such tired states. I should mention here as well that by crazy chance and lots of frequent flyer miles or something, we ended up in the Princess Grace Suite at the hotel. I've never stayed somewhere so fancy. The pictures show it better, but I have to say the bathroom was most shocking. A shower head the size of my own head! A bathtub! Bathrobes! It was huge (though I must admit, after the hamam, a bathtub is seriously gross). Anyhow, we had one fine night there and then headed out the next morning for Baltimore.

Getting out of Dublin was…interesting. My dad was a champ at managing the very narrow country roads and the oddness of driving on the left side, and so was Gail at navigating. I was just happy to have a whole seat to myself! And not squished, but pleasantly buckled and seated between my two sisters. The drive was beautiful and Baltimore was more than we could have imagined. My eyes could hardly handle all the green. We stayed right on the waterfront in a wonderful house which, to my pleasure, had a fully equipped kitchen. Baltimore is a sweet little harbor village, with only a few restaurants and some great sights. Again, the pictures tell it best, but primarily we wandered around an enjoyed the weather. I should point out here just how incredibly lucky we were with the weather. We were informed over and over how rainy and muggy the past few summers have been and then we were met with only clear skies and plenty of sunshine. It drizzled maybe three times throughout our whole trip.

Since we had a whole week in Baltimore we took some day tips out. One day we took a ten minute ferry ride from the harbor to Sherkin Island for some much needed beach time! After a hike to the beautiful beach I couldn't contain myself and headed straight to the water. I have never swum in such cold water in my life, but I had no choice! The water calls me and I must obey. Everyone waded a bit but only Hanna and I were crazy enough to go under. Every dunk caused us to scream because it was so cold, there was no getting used to it, but we had a good time. When we returned that evening I made couscous! I steamed it like I do in Morocco, candied some carrots, and sautéed onions and peppers in rich Irish butter. Gail sautéed mushrooms, roasted copious amounts of broccoli (YYEESS!!) and a pork roast (haram!). Mia found a big platter and I served the couscous Moroccan style-where we all eat off the one big serving. It was delicious and fun. We also took trips out to Mizen Head (absolutely gorgeous), Blarney Castle (only Mia and I didn't kiss the stone, I think I'm fine with my lack of eloquence) and to another wonderful beach.

After the week in Baltimore we headed out to Killarney in County Kerry for a few days. The second day we went horseback riding in Killarney National Forest, which was amazing. It was so beautiful, the horses were fun, and we even saw the Kerry Cow (a nearly extinct breed that's just coming back due to the national forest being there). We also saw many deer, fawns and some huge bucks! Because we were on horses they weren't so afraid of us and we were able to pass them far closer than one could on foot. What was not so fun was how sore my arse was for the next three days; most painful was just realizing how far gone my riding muscles were, I can't wait to get back on horses more regularly in the states!

Another day we did the most kitchy touristy thing possible, and though I was skeptical, it was actually awesome-a bus tour. My dad was quite tired of driving, and we just didn't have time to make it to all the places we wanted to see. The bus tour offered us a quick look at the Ring of Kerry, narrated by a very entertaining Irish fellow. I never would have imagined myself on a bus tour, but I'm really glad it happened. It was touristy, and every stop was a money trap, but one of the stops ended up being one of my favorite parts of the whole trip. It was a farm with a true herder doing short talks on the breeds kept in Ireland and showing the skills of true sheep herding dogs. I was fascinated. He showed about ten different breeds and talked about where they came from and whether they were raised for wool or meat, and shoot I wish I had taken notes. Then he showed the dogs and how each has only a few commands and with that the herder can direct his dogs to move the sheep anywhere from a great distance. It was just such a grand sight to see them work and made me sad as well that it's a dying art. Back on the bus my eyes grew drunk with green and I felt sure if a charming Irish farmer came by I could easily disappear into those gorgeous rolling hills for a very long time.

Killarney was a manageable-sized town and we were able to see good live Irish music and have plenty of good food. A couple nights I braved the scene alone and had a good time watching more live music with a cold pint in my hand. Still awkward, but able to enjoy myself nonetheless. Another night my dad joined me, which was grand! We met a quintessentially Irish couple that just cracked us up, and completely refused to believe he was my dad not my date.

After our stint in Killarney we headed back to the big city-Dublin-to really tackle it. My dad happily handed back the car and we got city bus passes so we could see all the sights. We did the Guinness Storehouse, the horribly manned Dublin Zoo, The Book of Kells and Trinity College and plenty of beautiful churches. We ate tons of good food from around the world and Dublin was quite easy to navigate. The exception of course being the half day we spent completely lost in industrial factory-land outside the city trying to find the Harley shop for my dear dad. We did finally make it but it wasn't a very fun trek. Overall it was wonderful and what I most enjoyed was just goofing off with my sisters and being able to hang out with them. They are so incredible.

Thanks to couchsurfing I found out about the CS Dublin weekly meet up happening a night when I happened to be there. So one night after dinner I headed out to Temple Bar and met up with fellow young travelers and Dublin residents for a night of mayhem. They were wonderful and so much fun! I haven't hung out with a group of young people that aren't in Peace Corps (and therefore have different topics to discuss than bowels, gossip, the heat, barf on transit, etc) in a very long time. Many were from Brazil and Argentina and gave me crap for our team almost beating them recently in football (which I knew nothing about of course). After a few drinks we wound up at some metal bands show at another place and danced like crazy. I also went out with my dad a couple nights which was fun too. My goodness he is a magnet at bars for hilarious people and goofy questions! Some Americans came up to us, convinced he was Irish, asking about football. Once they realized we were tourists too they decided to explain, in full, how to get at least four free pints out of one ticket to the Guinness Storehouse.

Our last night, after an amazing meal, Leilani actually made it out to Dublin again. Though we went out for a night on the town (my last for quite some time) we were both embarrassingly exhausted. We managed a drink and had a good chat, but headed home well before Dublin's bedtime. My family and I headed out before dawn the next morning, July 3^rd for our very early flights and I had to bid my dear family yet another goodbye. Though the wait will not be nearly as long this time, I will see them all before the holidays!

And that's that. I had an amazing time, but I also greatly looked forward to returning to work and my silly PCV buddies and talking about bowels and barf and all that fun stuff again. I also had a great deal of culture shock, but I'll discuss that another time.

Brussels; beauty and blues

2009-07-22T07:36:00.001-07:00

Continued from the last post…

Still in a fog, I felt drearier than one should in an airport on their way to a new destination. Since I had to stop somewhere on my way to Ireland, I'd decided I may as well pick a nice place and have a couple night layover in order to tack on another destination to my list of travels. I hadn't picked Brussels for any particular reason, and didn't know much of anything about it aside from a map I'd printed and taped together (a really great map, it turns out, and I highly recommend the site- use-it). I spotted a couple Americans on my flight, and dropping my usual inhibitions, I got out of my seat and went up to talk to them in hopes that they might have a guidebook or any tips on where I was so blindly headed to (for the record, I was far from blind, I'd read about Brussels beforehand, I just hadn't made any real plans and hate not having a set plan).

Thank goodness I went up to them. They, Slade and Dustin, quickly welcomed me to the empty seat and duty free Heineken they'd gotten in Morocco; though they'd only been in Morocco a week, they were desperate for beer, haha, welcome to my world. Of course, after my night of whiskey beer was the last thing I wanted, but heck, I was on vacation. We also had a long night ahead of us; Dustin was studying abroad in France and had been through our intended airport destination before. In usual Ryan Air fashion, though they consider the airport Brussels, it's actually in Charleroi, about an hour outside Brussels. And like many small airports, transportation options for the young, car-less traveler evaporate long before the arrival of the flight you'll undoubtedly be on. We arrived at 11 and already the last everything had gone, so we settled down for a long night before the first options around 6am. They were smart to buy two six-packs in preparation, but somehow didn't think to buy real food. Between us we had enough coinage to buy some humble snack machine food, including cheetos and my first Belgian chocolate waffle. We quickly began to envy some girls nearby totally out in sleeping bags and eye masks; apparently it's common to stay the night in that airport for early morning flights as well.

Not having slept for a couple nights in a row by then, tiredness hit me like a ton of bricks. We set up a sort of area, me expecting the least since I'd slept in far worse conditions before, and passed out until the bright morning sun hit us directly in the eyes. We stumbled onto the first bus out of there and into the train station and on our separate ways. Despite my nervousness in the new city, I surprised myself and after a couple tries found an empty bed in a fine hostel near the center of Brussels. Knowing the day was long I took a wonderful hot shower and slept a couple hours before heading out to see the city.

I treated myself to a very touristy order of Belgian waffle with whipped cream and chocolate, which was quite a leap from the snack machine one from the night before, but still not incredibly exciting. I wandered the city by foot, and it was surprisingly easy to navigate (which is really something for me, who could get lost in a swimming pool). The map from Use-it, was truly phenomenal and I did practically everything on it that didn't require money. I enjoyed my first ham in ages (I don't even like pig all that much, but I ate it nearly every day I was in Europe) on a wonderful panini with mozzarella. Oh how I love cheese! The guys there, and actually people all over Brussels, spoke Arabic, and on occasion I heard Tamazight. I actually followed a woman for a block or so because she was speaking Tam and I already missed it. By dark after plenty of sight-seeing, gawking in supermarkets, confusion in clothing stores, beautiful cathedrals, comic strip walls, etc., I went back to my hostel room, which, unfortunately, was still empty.

It was actually June 17^th, my mom's big 45^th birthday, and the birthday of one of my good Peace Corps friends, so I'd promised to drink to them. I headed back out for the Delirium Bar, highly recommended by friends. The name of the bar comes from the famous Belgian beer, Delirium Tremens, for its light and delicious, seemingly harmless taste, despite its 9% alcohol content. The point is you're drunk before you know it. A few years back I worked at a little brewery in Ojai, (this was back before I drank or did anything really) and a band called The Delirium Tremens played there. Because it was of course their favorite, my boss got the beer and had it available just for that night. Though I didn't try it then, I certainly saw its affects, and the band was pretty good. So there I was, at the fabled Delirium Bar, trying to be excited about being in Brussels, and drinking my first Delirium Tremens. It was absolutely delicious, but the fact remained- I was lonely. Traveling alone is no longer appealing to me, and drinking alone is just sad. The beer was great, but I had no one to enjoy it with but myself, and I know my awkward vibe steers away any other fellow lone travelers. I wanted to chat with people, but in a bar, particularly if you're alone, it's assumed you're only there to be picked up, or that's how it felt anyhow. Awkward. Some kind French military boys chatted with me a bit, and I enjoyed a very light and sweet cherry beer (for I was already woozy from one pint of Delirium) and soon after meandered back to my hostel, buzzed but blue. By then it was full of nice Asian gals, but they didn't speak much English and we all fell asleep by midnight.

Leaving my bag and checking out, I went out again for more sights before heading to the airport (the real airport, actually in Brussels) for my evening flight to Dublin. I passed most of the day simply sitting at great sights and people watching. It's fun to do, particularly when you're alone and have only time to pass the day with. I must say again, the absolute greatest thing about being in a city, what I enjoy most, is the silence-the lack of harassment, the fact that I walk through it completely unnoticed by anyone. I just can't express enough how much I love that. The harassment is what I hate most about Morocco; it gives such a bad perception of the country to visitors who may never know the beautiful people of Morocco, those I've come to know by living here. Aside from that, the little time I spent in Brussels just reaffirmed my dislike of cities in general; I never want to live in one again, the way it all works there is just not pleasantly livable to me, visits are enough. But don't listen to me! Despite my grumblings and self-inflicted loneliness I do highly recommend Brussels, it's a beautiful place and the people I did meet were wonderfully friendly.

It wasn't until I was boarding the plane to Dublin that I realized something very interesting. The tingly feeling, the excitement, the anticipation; I realized the flight to Brussels was the first flight I'd ever been on that I wasn't excited about, and it wasn't because it was Brussels, it had nothing to do with the place, it was because it was the first destination I went to with no one I knew. Every other time I've gone somewhere there was at least one person there I knew and missed (except Morocco I guess, but that was quite different). Anyhow, maybe that's an odd thing, but it was comforting. Next post- the big trip! Reuniting with my dad, stepmom and sisters and travelling around the great greenness that is Ireland!

before the big trip

2009-07-15T11:07:00.001-07:00

Before I get into the awesomeness that was my trip to Ireland, I just want to share some great events that took place just before I left and I just didn't have time to post.

On the 10^th, after over four months away, one of my dearest friends in Morocco returned! Casey was medically separated due to an accident, which pretty much means he had a slim chance of coming back, but after recovery and lots of bureaucracy to deal with he was reinstated and got to come home to us! I am overjoyed of course because he is one of my best friends' here-keeping things upbeat, enjoying my cooking, and travelling with. But I was also very happy because he is a great volunteer. Casey is a quintessentially super volunteer. We can all be easily bugged by it, but I've learned here that we all have different ways of working. He's very outgoing, loves his community and is absolutely superb at the language and so he has had a big and positive impact as a volunteer. So for the sake of his community for sure, I am very grateful he was able to return and complete his service.
On the 11^th, my only brother Michael graduated high school! I'm very proud of him, so sorry I couldn't be there to congratulate him in person, and can't wait to see him again. We've recently discovered a lot more of our similarities and I hope that he can accompany me on some of my WWOOFing adventures and I cannot wait to see the man he becomes. Mbruk brother!
Also on the 11^th, elections took place all over Morocco, including my humble little village. My counterpart, and the most amazingly motivated and all around awesome Moroccan woman I know, Fatima Fufuli, ran and won by a landslide for a position in the commune. I don't know her actual title, but some things she wants to work on are better water sanitation in farther douars, better trash management, and the possibility of a high school in the village. Anyhow, it all sounds pretty awesome and she's perfect for the job, though she's also the overworked treasurer of the weaving cooperative so we'll see how she handles both!

After all that excitement I went into a packing frenzy and left my site early Monday morning to drop off my cat with another volunteer and head towards Tanger for my flight the next day. I kinda planned to get to Asilah, but for a variety of reasons plans changed and a thousand degree train ride later I ended up in cool and drizzly Rabat for the night. The whole environment staj just happened to be in Rabat for their Mid-Service Medicals, so I hung out with them and had a fine time. I was also relatively easily coerced into drinking really terrible whiskey, and set out the next day feeling only slightly muddled, and very nervous about leaving Morocco again. The train ride to Azilah was easy enough, but when I got off in the supposedly delightful, arty, beach town, I was met with the absolute most ignorant and awful verbal harassment I've ever received in Morocco. It was one of those moments that make you question how humanity has even made it this far carrying such anger. The rest of the long, hot walk to the Tanger taxi stand didn't help as I was met with the usual harassment a lone female traveler with a big backpack undoubtedly will receive, but I swallowed hard and tried to focus on the Morocco I'd come to know and love, the people that do make this country great, and moved on. Stay tuned for a post on the trip abroad itself…

3:32 am

2009-07-09T02:56:00.001-07:00

Yep, its 3:32 am and I've no idea why I'm up and wide awake exhausted. I've no caffeine in my body or reason to have my eyes open; I just can't sleep, or concentrate on reading, and have written too much in the old journal so now I'm tapping out nonsense to you all. A long post (or two or three) will be out soon on all the excitement prior to my recent trip abroad, the trip itself, and all the stuff that freaked me out about being in a westernized country. But right now I'm sitting here trying to devise ways to make me fall asleep. I suppose Benadryl may work, but I don't wanna do that. I was a dummy earlier and left my melon seeds and innards out and my dumb cat ate them and barfed all over my sleeping room, so now my eyes are watery from the incense I lit in an effort to cover up and clear the cat melon-barf stench. My minds amuck.

You know those days when you realize you thought everything was one way and really it's all quite not? Sometimes I picture life back home as something different and more pleasant than it really is. Like my finding balance and happiness here somehow meant that back home was balancing out too. It's not a crazy big deal, and probably more info than necessary on my blog, but it's late and I'm drunk with sleepiness. Family drama I've got nothing to do with but feel the weight of anyhow. I don't really know where I'm going with this; I suppose I need to vent (where's my Ashley??) but my cats growing bored of my tossing and turning.

Learning to let go, even from thousands of miles away, is amazingly difficult. I just realized recently the sanity I have found living here is unlike any other time in my life. It's not easy or wonderful here, and yet I feel it's the most stable home I've found for myself. I know that Morocco is not my home, that I am not Amazigh, and that soon I will return to the country of my birth, but I'm reminded now that I'm not going home home. The people I love are all still there, lhamdullah, but the collective is all over the place, there isn't some cozy living room where we'll all meet, cuddle, and mull over the time spent apart. It is with a good amount of shaky faith in the universe and a new sense of freedom that I look toward the future and the opportunity and responsibility I have to begin building my own life there. Who knew that joining Peace Corps-in order to help people-would in fact be the first time and place in my life in which I would not be helping/taking care of anyone; that really what I've done and learned is how to take care of myself.

4:10 am- the pre-call to prayer is going off now (a song before the morning call to prayer to wake people up before the actual call). The voice is muffled and not exactly musical, but it's comforting and beautiful. I normally sleep soundly through this and the call to prayer, but when I was in Europe I noticed and greatly missed its absence. Soon the sky will lighten as the sun rises to welcome another day. This particular morning my beautiful little sister Mia (or not so little-she's nearly as tall as me already!) turns 12, and this same day next month I'll be double that. 24 years old. It's hard to believe and I admit I feel old, or just worried that I won't get it all together and settled in soon enough. Sleep still hasn't come to pull me into bed; I fear I'll be a zombie today.

changing it up

2009-06-02T10:00:00.000-07:00

I know I just said I was checking out for a bit, but you should never really listen to me. As you can see, I’ve given my blog somewhat of a makeover. Partially because I’m too annoyed with my writing to do a real post, but bored enough with the layout that I had to futz with something. But perhaps the bigger reason was to save the world!-one kilowatt at a time. Sounds ridiculous I know, but check out Blackle and you’ll see I’m not totally full of shit. It’s an energy saving search engine run by google, therefore it’s the same as google, so go set it as your homepage! Maybe it’s a tiny and seemingly meaningless difference, but I’m a firm believer in every little bit meaning something. I’m a weaver anyhow, and any good weaver knows that just one thread out of whack changes the entire piece. If you’re oober annoyed with my dark new blog, let me know and I suppose I could change it back. Then again, maybe I’ll keep it and ignore you.

I realized late yesterday that I’m way closer to Ireland than I thought! Two weeks to be exact. I am really excited for this trip, and in these crazy days of crisis, I can’t believe I have the opportunity to go. I’m honestly not as excited as I maybe should be for all the fancy stuff-my own seat in a car, daily showers, eating out, wearing shorter skirts and tank tops-I’m pretty much over all that. It will be great of course and I will enjoy it, I just mean I’m not bleeding every minute here for those things. I live and love the rural life. What I am excited about is ait uxaminu! (my family!) My dad, stepmom, Mia and Hanna. I haven’t seen them in ages and I’m terrified another two sisters will be taller than me. I’ve really missed out on their growing up and I always treasure the short times I do have with them. I also gotta take in all that I can from this trip because it’s only the 2^nd, but likely the last, trip I will take to Europe. Oh and beer. Real, good beer. Did I mention I’m hitting Belgium for two nights before Ireland? Chocolate and beer look out, I mean to consume you!

And, as has been the delightful case lately, I’m just as excited for my return. I have much going on now and am trying to make the most of the time I have left. One of my last nights with the above mentioned family we went to dinner with their friend who was an RPCV (and her beautiful kids-she actually married a man she met in PC). And one of the most important things she said to me was something a volunteer had told her before; that we have a choice to make early on in PC, a simple one, about priorities and time; between the people of the country in which we serve, and the easy comforts other Americans or big cities might provide. I wish I was as articulate as her, but what she said really stuck with me and I’ve thought about it a lot in my time here. I’m sorry I didn’t spend more of my service as committed as I am now, but I also acknowledge that I wasn’t quite the person who could at that point. Early on I sought Americans for fun, bonding and a break, and saw my relationships with Moroccans very differently. I also spent a lot of time in my mud hut and being shy. But now, mostly due to time, because it’s certainly not language, I feel so at home here and seek my community more than other volunteers or even the many great sights of Morocco I have yet to see. In fact, it looks like I won’t even use more than half my acquired vacation days by the end of my service because at this point, all I want to do is stay in town! But who knows, I may do an unexpected back-flip sometime.

busy bee

2009-05-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

I apologize in advance for not updating this so much now. I want to more than ever for these are very exciting times and there is so much I want to share with you all, but its good because its busy and I don’t have as much cyber time as I used to. It’s too true what I was told before-that the last six months are the busiest. Busy as a bee, only rather than a field of flowers I’ve got a roomful of looms! Pattern weaving is going well and I’m putting in very long days and enjoying staying in site. I really have so much to tell you all about sheep shearing in the middle of nowhere, all the babies and the maternal instincts they have been inspiring in me, all the new podcasts I’m in love with (Savage Love is like crack), all the WWOOFing prospects I have and how excited I am to get to them, and the way I am humbled and taught more and more by this country each day. Oh and the list goes on. But in truth, as kind as you are in reading and possibly even enjoying my writing, it’s horrendously tortuous to write. Some things we love come easily, and others not so much. I do love writing but it stresses me out and I have countless blog posts started on some grand thought or event, but then I never have the energy to make any sense of it and appropriate for posting. So I may or may not be less present here for a bit, sorry!
Now for a fun little numbers update, because though many are excited for my return, they can never seem to remember when I am coming home. Nine days less than six months from now I will be an RPCV, so six months from today I will have been home for a couple days and even passed Thanksgiving with you all, what!? The 19th was my two year college graduation anniversary. The 19th also marked one month before I will be meeting my dear dad, stepmom and two sisters in Ireland. Uhh, less than 100 is the amount of dirhams I’d spent in the past couple weeks, and 0 is the number of times I’d left my village in two weeks (not counting my souk town 6k away) until our mandatory consolidation drill in Fes a couple days ago. Three is the number of babies I’ve held and fallen for in the same amount of time. Infinite is the number of weddings, baby naming ceremonies, and tea dates I have promised to attend in the coming months. 3 is the number of months there are before Ramadan. 25+ is the number of how many water bottles I have filled at any given time in preparation of summer days without running water. About 8 is the number of fruits now available and I really can’t get enough (I’m even making peach pie tonight). 5 is the number of times I’ve climbed the mountain in my site. (I hope to more than double that before I leave). Unknown is the number of people I can’t wait to see yet I know it’s equal to the number of people I will sorely miss. 6 is the number of days I hosted people in a row last week, and it was wonderful but it’s nice to be alone. I’m out of numbers, ask me something new.
As always, I love and miss you all, I’m really on the home stretch now!

baby season

2009-05-12T07:54:00.000-07:00

I love spring. It’s glorious. And after, by far and thus far, the most difficult winter of my life, it is equally the most beautiful spring of my life. And I have never been so thankful for earth’s great lessons of birth and renewal. The landscape is flying upward with new life. Since it was such a wet year its greener than ever, the mountains a richer brown than I could ever imagine. The fields are high with wheat and other grains, soon enough they will turn brown, be harvested and replanted with corn and grow even higher. Other fields are alive with the sweet scents of onions and garlic. There are red poppies popping up everywhere, brilliantly contrasted against all the green.

The storks have been back awhile, building nests, and now, in ones low enough for me to just barely see, are little brown chicks with eager beaks. There’s the usual overabundance of sad kittens and puppies as well as the happy, chirpy abundance of turkey and chicken chicks running down the dirt alleys. Then there are all the bigger animals; sheep, goats, horses, cows, donkeys; all are giving birth now. The dirty brown flocks of sheep are now juxtaposed by the fresh white fleece of new lambs. The kids never quiet. The few ponies and mules are adorable. The calves are cute enough to kiss. But there is nothing cuter than a baby donkey.

Donkeys work mighty hard here and just about every family in town seems to have one. While they aren’t overly cruel, since these animals need to stay healthy enough to work, they certainly lead no charmed life. They get quite sad and dirty real quick, but when they are young, oh my. During the transit strike Natalie and I walked to the next town for souq and on the way saw an adorable baby donkey near the road. The babies are not tied up, since they keep to the mother anyhow, and for a few months at least, they are as close to being free as they ever will be. On our way back they were still there and the baby donkey seemed to have found his way to the cookie jar because he was bouncing of the field. Almost as if he was playing with us. He’d look over, then bound up and frolic across the road, out a bit, and back, and then again. All of this clearly alarmed his mother, who was tied up near a rock shed. As we got closer he started running around the shed, hiding behind, then bounding out again, like a game of hide and seek. It was wonderful.

Fun fact you may or may not know-donkeys and llamas are excellent guard animals for herds of sheep, alpacas, and the like. Better than a dog even, they will guard flocks from wolves, I even hear they will break a predators back. So, if I can be successful and fortunate enough to have a small fiber animal enterprise as part of my way long distant future farm, I will certainly have one. Donkeys don’t provide fiber, but my goodness they have character.

Baby season does not end with the great births outdoors. Inside, women are popping out kids like crazy. Wedding season is in summer, almost no one gets married outside of summer, so many of the new brides get pregnant fast, and are having their first child somewhere between April and June. And this means sadikas, or baby naming ceremonies. One week after a child is born it is named and the family throws a party. Not in the sense we might think of course. This party is just a grand lunch for tons of people. Every family brings a cone or two of sugar (yes, literally a cone of sugar, weighing a kilo each) as a gift to celebrate the birth and hope for a sweet life. The men are served tea, pray, are fed lunch and pray some more. The women, in another huge room, chat, have a couple rounds of tea, kiss the baby, maybe dance, are fed, and leave. It’s the standard two course meal. The first usually a giant plate of meat and juices with olives or prunes and hard boiled eggs. The second is couscous, usually with milk and chickpeas and sweet boiled raisins. This kind of ceremony is very similar to a death ceremony; they are wonderful get togethers and remind you of how much you’ve integrated into the sweet little community and gotten to know such a different set of ceremonies. My counterparts sister in law just had a healthy boy two nights ago and I’m excited to attend the naming ceremony next week.

And so it is spring. Alive with renewal and rebirth and very happy people. Happy because the crops will be so bountiful this year, because it is warm, and because I understand them just a bit better than last year. It’s a good time of year. The year I went to college you could say is the first year I spent with real seasons. In southern California we do in fact, aside from popular belief, have all four seasons, they are just not very different. We generally have a wet and dry season, but the change is fairly moderate. So it’s true I never had to live in snow or endure months of incredible heat, nor truly experience the short but beautiful season of autumn and the turning of the leaves or the great green rebirth of spring. I considered myself quite lucky in California after my first winter in Kansas City. I got over the pretty snow soon after my first, of many, falls flat on my ass on the ice.

Now I just don’t know. After surviving such a harsh winter, the gift of such a glorious spring makes up for it and then some. To be a farmer is to live according to seasons and at the mercy of the weather. I don’t know where I’ll end up, and even though seasons exist everywhere you go, I don’t know if moderate California will be it. Or at least the weather paradise I am from. Time and experience will tell.

Side-note on being thankful: abundant bugs are a part of spring and I’ve been dealing with them rather well. I welcome spiders, my cat catches flies, roaches are few and the ants aren’t here just yet. But there is another critter I have no tolerance for and yesterday morning I kinda flipped out. Dozily waking up, I randomly felt behind my ear and discovered a tick! I don’t think he’d actually bitten me yet, but was certainly curled up in a prime spot for feasting. I smashed him to smithereens and then checked my whole body and Bu. I freaked out because besides being nasty, ticks are very dangerous. You may remember a post sometime two summers ago when I was working for the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy and my boss and I accidentally found ourselves in a tick infested wood. He taught me a lot about the dangers of lime disease, and drove me straight home, ending the workday early, and ordering me to shower, scour my body and be sure to get any buggers off. It’s a good thing he was strict because I did find two or three crawlers which otherwise may have latched on and provided me with the chance of an awful lifelong disease. I’m very thankful for my health, and the doctors assure us lime disease does not exist in Morocco, but I’m still going to be extra careful.

you wanna piece of Morocco?

2009-05-10T07:29:00.000-07:00

4 May 2009

I’m enjoying a night by myself after a good, long work week. Last Tuesday Alia Kate, founder of Kantara Crafts, came to Morocco yet again. Some months ago she put in orders with the Cooperative I work with and came by for a few days to hang out and pick up the work. She was very happy with the results and bought out the other great hanbils they had (including one for the Caid, which wasn’t actually available, but they like her so much they said she could buy it, the Caid could wait!). An important part of her business is to understand the women and the culture as well as supporting them by purchasing their work; her site is much more informative and accurate than I of course, so visit it! Here’s what she writes as Kantara’s Mission: "Kantara Crafts imports fair-trade rugs and textiles directly from women's cooperatives, thereby empowering the artisans to promote their financial independence as well as their creative freedom, while spurring growth and development in rural regions of Morocco"

In the process I too learned a lot about organizing command orders with the women, and have since begun thinking about what I am going to order to bring back with me to the states. I emailed my immediate family about what they might want because I do want to be able to have something tangible to give those I have missed and have missed me for over two years, but have been informed that more of you may want to order something. These women are incredible and the product is of the highest quality. You know I’m not a business person, and I’m not advertizing or even asking because it will benefit them. I’m just being honest. You really get the better deal. In fact it even kinda sucks for me because it’s a pain in the butt to ship stuff from here, but I’m of course happy to do it. Anyhow, I have put up an album entitled Cooperative Atma on facebook so check that out if you’re interested.

Be specific, or at least give me a guide. With a command order with these women you will get just what you ask for. If there is a particular color scheme or design you like then let me know, and the size. Prices vary greatly and depend on size and the complexity of design; areas of solid color, for instance, cost less than areas of pattern. They are all cotton warp and wool weft (meaning, the tassels you see on the end are cotton, but all you see in the rest is wool). They can do solid wool warp and weft but it would cost a decent amount more money and time because they have to process and spin the warp yarn very differently than the rest. If you are interested in that let me know. I just wanted to open this up to anyone. I figure anyone who dares read this ridiculous blog is among those that might be interested in a product of the amazing women and community I live among. If you do want something email me, comment on this post, or on the facebook album, or any other of the various ways you can think of to contact me. I’m not getting a cut or anything so the money will go directly to the women who made the work and shipping (unless of course someone wants to visit me sometime this summer-to see beautiful Morocco and take some rugs home, hint, hint, HINT)

above photo courtesy of Alia Kate

Now onto the rest of the weeks work…On May 3^rd the first annual SIDA (AIDS) marathon was held in Midelt and it was a hit! Some other awesome volunteers and an awesome Moroccan association have been planning it for months and I just went to help out. I arrived to find I was on dinner crew, ha, but what’s new. I’m way out of shape so I happily took the photography job rather than running. The Moroccan support and interest was phenomenal, the kids were excited, and the whole thing really went well. It really helped to promote SIDA and STI awareness and I’m so grateful I could take part in it. After the great success and hard work we (just Americans) had a grand evening of drinking and dancing. I’d been holding off on drinking since returning from Europe, not only did I want to savor the memory of truly good beer, I’ve also been trying to save extra money and staying in site keeps me from both drinking and spending. Wonderful how that works actually.

And now I’m home, with my wonderful boy Bu and the great calm I feel when back here. Among the many glories of spring I’m discovering once again that veggies actually mold and go bad when not frozen, and I need to do some house fixing like the screens on my windows, to keep flies as well as foreign cats out. Work is going great and my only sadness stems from thought of how much I’ll miss this wonderful place. I’ll post again soon on the wonders of spring.

The goings good

2009-04-25T15:32:00.001-07:00

Recently there was a week and a half or so long country-wide transport strike, meaning no public transport. So unless you were a richie in the city with your own car, you couldn't get anywhere. First I was real bummed, as it canceled Pesach at my house, but then it was kind of nice. I stay in site as much as possible, but without even the possibility of leaving, I really relaxed into my complete lack of control over the situation and happily hung around town. I am so in love with my site right now and it's wonderful. Actually the more I fall into the rhythm of life here the more terrified I become of the life I must return to. I'm not on a high, just finding the swing of things and hoping to make it a wonderful ride for the remainder of my service. Being a PCV is so unbelievably different than I ever imagined. I don't even know what I imagined before. RPCVs told me before I left that the 2^nd year is when you really start working, the first is just getting over it all. Well, I feel I've got it now and it's a good feeling. Amazingly, I've found, as I'm sure you're already tired of me saying, what I really want to do in life, and it's incredible how much I've relaxed just knowing that and having the time to develop my vision. I also know that's had a big impact on my commitment as a volunteer here. I'm writing this, I suppose, as a bit of a check-up, a reflection on my service thus far, and what I'm doing with the time I have left.

I work with a really well established, incredibly motivated and quite successful weaving cooperative. These women are insanely strong-willed. A lot of money has been put into this cooperative over the past few years from ONUDI. Along with large metal looms for making traditional work they were also given European horizontal looms for making cloth and wearables. They got some basic training on the looms, but have since just been doing stripes in plain weave for jellaba fabric, shawls and bread cloth. In my time here I've learned a lot about development work, and though I do think the idea is good, the method often isn't. I'm not going to get into this too far because its complicated and irritating to try and work out, but essentially I don't really see myself as working in development any longer. I don't think I ever really did actually. I've been torn from the start about whether I think these European looms and money given to the cooperative have benefited the women or just the beneficiary's consciouses. Whether bringing this community into a more modern world and global market is right. I don't really know that it is. But that's a really long and tedious discussion we should have another time.

As a PCV, an important part of my work here is to assess the needs of my community and how I might help them to get those needs resolved. Being human, what that translates to is a lot of not so objective need finding. In weaving for example, I saw the European looms they had and that they were not using them nearly to their capacity. In my mighty high-college-degree-in-fiber chair I saw what they needed and would benefit from is learning to use the looms properly and do all that they can do on them. So about a year ago I tried to accomplish that. I set up a loom with the simplest pattern possible and wove. But the project didn't generate much interest, and I was too shy to push it, and let the project go after one sample. I see now the many reasons that attempt failed, the primary one being it was really my idea of what they should do, not theirs.

When asked by my Assistant Program Manager on a recent site visit why I haven't been teaching them how to use these looms, I expressed the change over the past year in what I see as genuine; that those looms do not work toward their image. All they know is that those looms work faster, but they can't make the traditional, unique, individual designs and symbols that have been a part of their culture and their lives for generations. He was remarkably receptive to my resistance to trying the project again, and later when we went to the Cooperative the women actually told him that they are thinking of not using those looms so much anymore because the product is not profitable. I was happy to hear that they realize the value of the traditional work, and that the work from the European looms was no different from cheap material imported from china. With that, I was able to step into the picture again.

Like déjà vu from last year, the project began, only now I had a completely different relationship with the women, and very different expectations. No real expectations actually. Relaxed, I simply brought in The Handweaver's Pattern Book, my old drafting book and tattered old tam notes. I set up a counter balance loom, just like last year, and had my two "trainees", Mhajouba and Miriam, pick a relatively simple pattern. I tried to throw in bits about how the designs in the book were pretty but not Amazigh, that we could add some designs, but not change the overall look. I really wanted to stress that pattern weaving was not better than the plain weaving they were doing, just different, a door to possibility. My idea is that if they could understand more about how the looms work, and how to use them to get the image they want, they would feel more ownership over these foreign looms and the products they make.

I'm ashamed to admit my surprise at their immediate proficiency. The threading was only 12 steps before repeating, and they very quickly got the hang of it. After some miming I got the point across on why there are only rb3 n quadr (four harnesses) but stta n sbat (six pedals). The counter balance loom requires a lot of, you may have guessed, re-balancing, all the time, but they wove with patience and interest. Throughout it all I should add, partly on purpose, I didn't explain much about anything until they asked. Particularly with the language barrier, it was easier to answer questions than come up with explanations beforehand, and they were full of great questions.

Mhjouba took the book home and the next day had already chosen designs she liked and pointed out where they would lay, for instance, on a headscarf, and how beautiful that would be. Of course, those lovely patterns were quite complicated overshot, which I had to re-teach myself before even beginning to explain to them. But she's a very fast learner and isn't shy about asking questions-she wants to get it. I was having great difficulty explaining to her that the first two pedals were for tabby, or plain weave, and the other four were for the pattern. With overshot, you have to do a shot of tabby between each shot of pattern. It's tricky in English, far trickier in Tam. She then said she didn't really understand how the pattern worked on the piece we already had on the loom, well let me tell you! Ecstatic that she truly wanted to understand how this mess of threads and pedals became woven shapes, I showed her how to draft the pattern; from the tie up, to the threading, to the pedaling, to drawing out the design it would make. She understood instantly and it was then easy to show her the pedals for tabby, when they are used in overshot and why. (I know this is a lot of weaving garble, but I've been dying to say it in English, I don't care if no weavers read and get this, but there you go)

What's happening now is a fun little conversation in the co-op; these two women got it quite quickly, and are explaining it to the other curious faces. This includes plenty of yelling and laughter and I love it. And of course that is the point, for them to teach each other. Soon they want to set up a loom and make a whole cloth of one pattern. I don't know what will come of this; if they will let it go and continue with the products they have, start weaving patterns straight from the book or better, draft their own patterns and use them in harmony with the current work. But I am happy to just have some part to play each day when I go to work. They have also been keeping up literacy classes, and I can't begin to fully express the delight I observe in a class of 15 or so middle aged women learning script. It's hilarious and wonderfully inspiring, I attend often as I can and participate as well, which just cracks them up.

But the true beauty of this place, aside from the women of course, are the traditional traditional Amazigh carpets and rugs they have been creating for generations. It's a beautiful scene to watch them weave together; hard on their bodies but good for their souls, I see the important bonds they have with one another. And sitting with them, learning some knots and attempting to understand the way this harp playing adds up to a beautiful piece is inspiring. My views of my service have changed and evolved a lot over the past year and some months, and the most comforting realization, though not exactly fulfilling, has been that they don't actually need me. They enjoy my company, love that I am here and find humor in everything I do. I have learned so much from them about family and community, weaving and cooking, there isn't really all that much for me to teach them. I'm no super volunteer, I know there are far bigger ways I could impact, help, teach, etc. here, but I'm just not doing it. It's not that I'm a bad volunteer, as I believed myself to be for the greater portion of my time here, just a different breed. I will never be that big smiley active jumpy creature of a volunteer pictured on the website. I don't initiate, and don't love that character trait, but I've been working with it 23 years now so it seems to be set. Because my language hasn't improved much, I've become far more integrated into life here mostly due to just time and being present. I love them and respect their work and way of life more than I ever did my own in America, and so I have no overhead view of how I think they would be better off here. It's quite simple everywhere really, people want to live a good and comfortable life and hope for better opportunities for their children. I work with a generation of women set, progressive yes because they work outside the home and contribute to the income of their household, but they're not wishing for millions or life in a big city.

I guess I wrote this blurb because I feel bad for often not having answers to the simple questions loved ones back home often ask about how work is going, or what I actually do here. I end up sounding like I'm not doing anything, and oftentimes that is the case. Justifying to Americans, including myself, the importance of just hanging out someplace real different for a couple years is a tough sell. But it all depends on how you look at it. And it seems just as I've come to embrace it, the situation changes and I now have something most people might actually classify as work. For the moment anyhow, this is my state of affairs: uncharacteristically and wonderfully content. We shall see what next week brings…

got lost on the information super highway…

2009-04-24T07:05:00.001-07:00

Now I have no freaking clue what the heck twitter is but I feel pretty dang special to have recently become a podcast fanatic. Not having a TV and never picking up anything in English on my shortwave radio I've been out of the loop for some time. But a few months ago, due to far too much time spent in bed to keep warm, and a new ipod gadget from family I finally started getting into podcasts, and I'm obsessed. It's not like I read the newspaper everyday in the states, but there's a danger in being uninformed, so I'm catching up. Ashley and I had a nice ritual of watching This Week with George Stephanopoulos on one of two stations we picked up on Sunday mornings (so long as our Saturday night hadn't gotten too crazy, though George's cute little smile was always a great cure for a hangover, even if it was the only productive thing we'd do on a Sunday).

Anyhow, that and Obama's Weekly Address are the only video podcasts I take time to load, and they take FOREVER. This weeks This Week, on April 19^th was alright, but I laughed out loud and complained to my cat about John Beohner's asinine answers, or lack thereof really. I fully admit I don't have a real opinion on what is being done to combat the various current crises because I'm certainly not well enough informed. But to say the issue of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is laughable as a contributor to climate change? Ugh, it was too ignorant to stomach.

But anyway, the point is, though I am mighty integrated into bled life here, I'm keeping well informed about your alls whereabouts and issues too. Much of it gives me a headache, but ignorance is not bliss, so I keep downloading. My favorites, for anyone with some time to hear some great stuff are: the hilarious How Stuff Works guys, Radio Lab which is just too awesome to be free and yet it is, This American Life of course, Green Festivals Radio whose interviews I don't like so much, but the speeches are awesome, particularly Van Jones and Deepak Chopra, there are some good interviews on GreenLivingIdeas.com's GreenTalk Radio, the recent ones with Sam Bozzo on his film Blue Gold: World Water Wars were amazing. I also get plenty of PRI including The World: Science, Living on Earth, To the Best of Our Knowledge, and NPR's News Summary, Fresh Air, On Health and On Science. I also download The Onion sometimes and am trying out some new agriculture news and BBC podcasts. I feel overwhelmed trying to keep up with these and then I think of how much time most Americans spend watching TV, and it's really not so bad. At least I'm getting educated while being entertained. Let me know what other podcasts you consider necessities!

Barcelona to Berlin; a summary of my eurotrip

2009-04-07T10:12:00.000-07:00

I guess I need to remark on my trip before continuing on about life back in Morocco eh? Quick summary-it was wonderful. And now for the long-winded account…

I arrived in Girona, Spain and met up with a wonderful Slovak girl named Veronika studying at the university there for my first time couch surfing (I’d hosted, but never been hosted). It was a bit late, but she still made an awesome meal including her grandfather’s own homemade sausage, and was actually delighted to share them with someone since her Spanish friends weren’t fans of those types of meats. She thought it was hilarious how excited I was to see cheese and was very generous with it. The next morning she showed me around the medieval city a bit and up the ancient wall and to her university before I caught a train to Barcelona.

Barcelona was overwhelming the moment I arrived. I felt the usual travel nervousness and anxious confusion set in a bit. I called my next host and found out how to get to his house. Being the loon I often am I didn’t know how to make the doors open and so missed the metro stop, ugh. Luckily the stops aren’t far from one another and I managed to open the doors at the next stop and eventually found my way to his house. After greeting and taking a breath he had to continue to work and I set out to explore Barcelona. Annoyed with the metro already, and the expense, I decided to walk back to the center. It was a long walk but well worth it as I don’t feel like I know where I am unless I’ve gotten there by foot.

Finally alone, I was fully aware of all the weirdness. Or really, all that was normal in America, but had been absent from my life this past year and a half. The women are smoking! They have crazy high heels and fancy fancy clothes and free flowing hair and all kinds of skin showing. Dogs are on leashes and look like they’ve bathed more recently than me! Everything is clean. No one is staring at me, and even better, no one is yelling at me. In fact, I would describe this later as my favorite part of Europe. In Morocco I associate cities with higher levels of verbal abuse. Really you can learn to tolerate anything, and I have, but man it was nice to walk down the street and not be on the defense, it was so pleasantly quiet in this way.

The first place of business I walked into was a supermarket and I stared at the packaged food as if I’d never seen it before. I stood in front of sliced bread longer than should be allowed. Oh wait, now they are staring, not at my dumbfounded-first-time-in-a-supermarket expression, but at my hands. The Tuesday before I left was the Prophet’s birthday and I got the Berber smear (henna is most known as being done in elaborate and beautiful line designs on the hands, but the Amazigh tradition is to have one big swipe on your palm, as if you were going to make handprints on a wall, and to paint on and around the nails as well. I love this style now far more than the patterns) so my hands and nails were rust red. I suppose if I hadn’t been living in Morocco and saw a person with deep red hands I might wonder and worry too. A couple people asked if I was okay, and another even asked if it was blood.

Passing all the big famous and fancy shops I couldn’t even afford to look at, I walked all the way down to the harbor to sit at the sea. It was the third country I had the fortune of seeing the Mediterranean from. Despite the swirl of languages and people and loudness of a city surrounding, and the cluttered harbor before me, I still fell immediately under the spell of the ocean. Every time I come back to it after far too long gone I have to sit quietly for some time to take it all in again. The vastness of it always puts me into a trance of reflection, about the worlds immensity, my tininess, and how it all works together. At that moment I felt excited for the future; for the long term as well as for the next couple weeks on this new land. And a few deep breaths later I got up and started walking back.

I returned to Eduard’s house that evening and we went out for tapas. He told me where they came from me and which were the best. I had my first beer in Spain, the cheapest and national beer, and it was glorious. I told him how to say a couple odd things in Tam and talked some about my experience. There was no way to convey just how odd it felt to be there. Outside, drinking beer with a platonic male friend, at night, trying my best to know that wasn’t hashuma here; everything I’d come to know was worlds away. He streamed the Colbert Report on his fancy big screen and I laughed my head off and felt even closer to one home, further from another home, and all while actually being somewhere I’d never been before. I slept on the finest couch ever and left the next morning to explore the city some more before Danielle and her friends would arrive.

I met them at the hostel, and they were all great! Seeing Danielle was so wonderful, I miss everyone so much and I felt the comfort of my entire family in our greeting. She and her friends had all left immediately after finals so of course none had slept in a couple weeks or so. We all rested a bit and then went out to dinner. I felt like a plastic 7-11 cup among wine glasses, the place was so fancy. But luckily it was delicious and not obnoxiously expensive. We took our sweet time eating and chatting, wandered the city a bit then suddenly it was well after midnight and we stumbled upon a good looking club. Of course, in my sad attempt to look nice I'd worn my “new” heels (bought for 20dirham a couple days before at used souq) and not surprisingly both soles were coming off and laughing at me as I walked. So, rather than turn lame and still hoarding my money, myself and a couple others turned back to the comfy hostel.

Before continuing on about my lovely trip, I must say Barcelona is a very different place after hours. Drunkads amuck, men selling beers singly off a six-pack, and the women. I know more than I'd like about the culture of prostitution in Morocco, but it was a whole new kind of openness in Barcelona. It’s a part of humanity I just cant swallow or attempt to deal with in any way, so I walk past and comment to my friends on how sad it is, and that’s the extent of my involvement. We can’t fight in every battle, and I really hate that sometimes.

The next few days were a blur of wonderful sightseeing, unending foot pain, delicious food, and getting to know five awesome new people. Then we picked up a rental car and planned to drive to Figueres to see the Dali museum, and then dip our feet in France and do some wine tasting. Bright and early that morning though, Danielle's friend Tim and I decided to go down to the beach before leaving Barcelona. We went on the other side of the harbor so we could actually get our feet in some sand and seawater! After collecting some shells and sea glass the crazy swimmer actually jumped in. I am never the one to not get in, no matter how cold, but I hadn’t brought a swim suit, nor very many changes of clothes so I actually had to resist. And ya, it was freezing. After that lovely little adventure we headed back to the hostel and the sleepy eyes of the rest of the group and soon headed north. Unfortunately our Dali plans were not to be. Turns out that very day the prime minister of Spain was visiting the museum and it was not open to the public. Darn it! So plans change. Our dip in France was unplanned and had some odd decision making moments but we made it to Carcassonne, the incredible medival city within a castle, and one lovely little winery before I had to turn back to Spain and they continued on.

I rode the train back to Girona to meet up with Natalie, and it was the most beautiful train ride of my life. It went along the coast and in and out of breathtaking coves, oh and it happened to be sunset. So that was wonderful. Natalie and I found one another at the station, I squealed a few too long held in words in Tam and we were relieved to see we both had the berber smear. We wandered for the afternoon and then met up with our very last minute couch surfing savior of a host, Shanti. We had dinner with him and his wonderful friends, Kristina and Alfredo (who offered to host us on our way back through). Shanti had been to Morocco and was very interested in the Amazigh culture and much of our experience there, and we learned a lot about Catalan culture in Spain. Then we all went to a great, crowded bar with live music, all of which was in Catalan and Spanish, so I didn’t understand, but I've grown quite used to not understanding so I didn’t care and it all sounded good. After a couple hours of sleep we left super early the next morning for the airport onto Germany!

I have a lot to say about how much I dislike Ryan Air and particularly Frankfurt airport, but will just sum it up as an experience that cost me way more than it was supposed to due to an unannounced policy change, and Frankfurt stole my beloved pesto (and yet let my razor through? What the hell!?). Anyhow, I'm thankful for getting to my destination. Berlin was incredible. If I was as lost as I was six months ago, Berlin would definitely be a place I might look to for some time and answers. And I love German. Maybe its just that its not English or Arabic or Tam so it sounds lovely to me, but I really think everyone was wrong who ever said it was an ugly language.

Anyhow, Natalie and I met up and stayed with her friend Ruth, who is currently studying abroad there. She was awesome and hilarious and full of smiles and I'm so very grateful to her for being such a great host and tour guide! It was funny actually that first night we went to the infamous hole in the wall, or middle of the street rather, Burgermeister for delicious, and way long overdue burgers and German beer. Chatting as we stuffed our faces, I found out she’s from Ventura as well! She went to Buena (lame, ha) and we even have a close mutual friend, small world.

The next day happened to be beautiful and we had a whirlwind tour of everything-from Reichtag, to a memorial, the wall, I'm beating myself up for not writing it all down as we went, but I have pictures! The weather was lovely and in order to see it all we didn’t go in any museums. The wall was one of my favorite places, its now also called the East Side Gallery, referring to the art on the wall. The whole length of whats left of it is covered in all languages and colors and politics going on throughout the world.

Another great thing about being hosted by someone living there is they take you to all the best places to eat, we had the best doner ever! Also known as shwarma. Later we went to, haha, an American bar and met up with some of her school friends and some Germans and had a very late night (and one of the worst but most memorable shots of my life!)

Along with many other great sights the next day we went to a Bauhaus Museum, which was pretty cool. My college, KCAI, uses the Bauhaus as a model for the freshman year. We often called it art boot camp, but they righty called it Foundations; you’re pretty much thrown into every aspect of the field possible, made to fall apart over and over again, and see what happens when you get up. I don’t really remember much, I didn’t sleep that entire year. Anyhow, the museum was alright, I of course was disappointed by their itty bitty textiles section, but what's new? I had the great fortune of having broccoli pizza and the best pesto of my life (I know, not exactly German cuisine, but I had some needs to fulfill!) and we saw the reconstructed temple and went to a crazy squatters place. Many places we went to were recommended to me by Annika, a girl from Berlin who I hosted from couchsurfing recently. She told us about a place called The Teahouse Project, part of Volxkuche, which translates as the kitchen for the people and we went, and of course, it was amazing.

The next morning we went to the flea market and then had the most amazing brunch of my life! A very crowded little place with all the kinds of people you want to spend hours getting to know. It was all vegan and all delicious, and you decide how much you can pay. The setting is so that you meet people and one guy we sat with was working on a sustainable energy project I really want to look into, but I'll write more on that later.

And for our last night, of the very short trip, we had the most wonderful, but most un-german Vietnamese dinner. I'll admit I've actually never had Vietnamese, but I am surely a fan. Though I have witnesses that can attest that my head popped off a number of times for I am a true weakling when it comes to spicy. In our short time back in Spain we made it to Figueres to finally see the famous Museu Dali. It was overwhelming and unexplainable. All I can say is I am now a big fan. We went back to Girona and spent the night at wonderful Kristina and Alfredo's house and set out bright and early the next morning. Oh and I forgot to mention that I was terribly sick by this point. Due to my cheapness, when I met up with Natalie that first day I drank from her water bottle, knowing full well that she was terribly sick. But I was being cheap and I was thirsty, so a few days lalter when I got an awful cold I only had myself to blame. And I gotta tell you, three flights while you're really congested=blinding ear pain.

I did have an amazing time, but I felt by the end of the trip as I thought I might. I didn't have any crazy new revelations about life and all the places I'd rather be, in fact it was really comforting to know now that I am not a traveler. All the moving, all the unknowns, all the confusion, it's not really all that fun to me anymore. It was a wonderful little trip with amazing people and places, but I can say for certain now the real adventure I'm yearning for is my future, inshallah, in farming.

What I didn't expect was just how freaking much I loved Morocco. I had started missing Morocco the moment I left; as I took the various cabs further and further from my site I tried to picture it was the last time I'd see the mountains, and the donkeys, and the sheep, etc., etc. What an awful little game to play on myself! And I'm terrified now of how hard leaving it for good will really be. My first meal back was a simple and cheap bowl of pizara and a coke and it warmed me and brought me back home in ways I never expected. I even had some awful cat calls in Fes, which reminded me of exactly why I am here, to see the Morocco beneath the big cities. I am so amazed by how much I have fallen for this country and in ways no one can ever fully understand.

Being back is good, but also the same. Same in the way that I'm not fulfilled by the work I'm doing, disappointed by how little I know or try at the language, but most of all just how much I love it here but will never be able to express that to them fully. I have grown in incalculable ways, but haven't found a way to give back in any meaningful manner. So, we’ll see. I have just over 7 months left, my goodness, its like nothing!

Oh and even though I'm not a huge traveler anymore, I'm really excited about the trip, inshallah, this June to Ieland with my dad, stepmom and sisters. I started reading about Ireland, oops, and it sounds like a glorious country. I can't wait to see you all!