I recently turned thirty. To commemorate this milestone birthday, I'm writing down some of my most amazing memories from the last thirty years. I'll post them here as I finish them. Remember that I'm no author, and these are my memories, described faithfully as I remember them.
Enjoy!
YUKON CONCERTO
For several summers in college I was a tourguide and tourbus driver with Northern Alaska Tour Company. My first year with them we were taken on a teaching tour of the Dalton Highway (or the Haul Road). During this trip I experienced some things that are truly amazing.
The first was at the Yukon River crossing. We were camping there overnight, and it was late spring. The ice was still firmly in place along the banks of the river, but we’d been told that further up-river the ice had broken. After a few hours at the crossing we began to hear large booms, and crashing echoes. Someone shouted “the ice is breaking up” and we all ran down to the rivers edge to see what was happening.
Slowly the huge sheet of ice (much bigger than a football field) began pushing forward, grating along the rocks of the bank. Then a large surge of water came from underneath the ice and lifted the whole ice sheet up. As the water began flowing, the ice began crumbling along unknown crevices, and huge chunks overturned and tumbled in the center of the sheet. Although smooth along the top of the ice, the undersides had been eroded away by the river into thousands of tiny icicle like structures, and when the ice chunks tumbled over, they fell and the tinkling sound of breaking crystal filled the air. Amidst all the booming, tinkling and crashing, the rushing sound of water was building in volume until it was a mighty roar, and then we saw the ice wall – a huge dam of ice pushed up by the river water and being forced downstream. Much like a snowplow it dug into the sheet of ice and furthered the breakup. The crossing is at one of the narrowest points along the Yukon, so the wall was truly huge, and high. We weren’t sure if the wall of ice would fit under the bridge supports - which are nearly one hundred feet above the river.
Eventually the ice wall met the bridge, and collapsed around it. As it collapsed the water along the bank rose almost three feet in just a few seconds. With a last canon-like boom the ice wall fell, and the ice was swept from sight in a matter of minutes. All that was left was relatively placid water with a few small chunks of left over ice. This whole experience lasted maybe twenty minutes in total…and I felt as if I’d heard a full concerto from Nature herself.
HAMMAMS
I traveled to Morocco in 2005 with my good friend Lee Hendricks. There were many amazing memories from this trip, but the most amazing by far, was an experience I was reluctant to do. In many middle eastern and African countries a public stream bath is a traditional community structure. Probably influenced by the Romans, the steam baths are large stone structures, with heated water flowing through the floors and out of spigots in the walls. The roofs are usually open cupola's to let in lots of light, and the interior is clad in light marble or stone. Baths are segregated by sex, with the youngest children going with their mothers.
I wasn't too keen on going to the Hammam because the guidebook said there was no modesty - you stripped down and got a bucket, and for a fee you could hire a lady to scrub and massage you. After traveling for two solid weeks across Morocco, I just didn't feel very safe getting naked in public!. Fortunately for me, Lee was insistent that I do this - and walked me there and back through the streets of Fez. He also insisted I hire the lady to scrub me down.
So, very nervous, I stepped inside the Hammam. I didn't speak any Arabic and little French. The front counter was staffed by a very nice looking young woman in the traditional headcovering - hijab or veil. Morocco seemed pretty liberal, as the women always wore veils in public, but not the full burkas (which cover the face and leaves a sheer panel or slit to see through). Once the hostess figured out what I wanted (with a little help from Lee at the door) she showed me where to hang my clothes, and got me all the stuff I'd need. They use a soft plant based soap for hair and body, and a mitten made of scratchy fabric for exfoliation. A small round comb with lots of teeth scrubbed your hair. My masseuse came to get me, and she was grinning because I insisted on keeping my glasses with me - if I took them off I was worried that I'd fall down some steamy steps and break my neck!
Unlike an American swimming pool - steam baths are a very social place. We walked down a long hallway and all along the way you could see into different steam rooms off the main hall. There was so much talking and laughing! The women were scrubbing their babies and catching up on the latest gossip. Totally different ways of expression than what I had observed in the souks and streets! Put a Starbucks to go cup and they could have been soccer moms waiting for the game to be over. This was somewhat of a revelation to me, as previously the women I had seen were grim, hurrying through the streets, looking neither left or right, and they had their veils tightly wound to obscure most of their neck and lower face. In the hammam they were open chatty, playful, and happy. It was their world.
When we got to the steam room we'd be using there were older women already sitting along the benches. This room didn't have any children in it, although I don't know why. Most of the women there were dark skinned and dark haired. The exception was a striking woman who was at least a foot taller than everyone else and had bronze skin and the most pure, glowing silver hair I'd ever seen. She had several lengths of it, and it wound across her shoulder and spilled onto the seat next to here. She wore probably hundreds of silver bracelets, rings, anklets and necklaces. They were not chains or gaudy silver like you'd find in the Walmart jewlery section. These were plates of silver carved into animals, flowers, script. They looked like armor. She held her head fiercely, even though her eyes were closed and she was relaxing in the steam - I don't know who or what she was, but she held herself like a queen.
I found out later that she was probably a Berber, as the women accumulate jewelery, often silver, and that it is their property, and so is not often removed from their body - even during baths. The woman I saw must have been rich indeed. Her face and beauty is what struck me the most about the Hammam. On the outside world, in the street she probably wore a plain dark robe and veil, indistinguishable from any other woman, but in the hammam she was like a lioness among sheep.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
It's been thirty years...
I recently turned thirty. I’m no longer in the ‘twenty-something’ age set. I’m absolutely within sight of the top of THE HILL. I’m thirty. Three Zero. Honestly though, I think this year will be better than any other year in my life so far.
To commemorate this milestone birthday, I'm writing down some of my most amazing memories from the last thirty years. I'll post them here as I finish them. Remember that I'm no author, and these are my memories, described faithfully as I remember them.
Enjoy!
CAMP DOGOYAMA
When I was 14 I went to Japan on a summer exchange through 4-H and the Labo program. During this time my host sister Mami and I went to a summer camp in the mountains called Dogoyama. The mountains in Japan are full of birds, insects, and bamboo forests. The first evening we had a huge welcome bonfire – fifty feet square of burning logs, and Japanese drummers hit enormous drums as we danced and whirled in circles around the fire. You grabbed red streamers from the adults, and you said a wish or a prayer into it, rolled it up with your wish inside, and threw it into the air. I remember the air being full of red streamers being thrown lit only by the flames of the bonfire.
After the bonfire, as we walked back to our cabins. The night was dark, with millions of stars, and the air was much warmer than Alaska’s. There were hundreds of moths as big as our hands, attracted to the huge bonfire light. Some of the moths were very pale, and in the reflected moonlight appeared to glow in the dark, and one of those moth’s landed on me – I remember that it only glowed on the top side of the wings, and when it closed its wings the glow was cut off.
LIPPIZANER STALLIONS
When I was a girl, I avidly read all of Marguerite Henry’s horse books. I was friends with Misty, knew King of the Wind’s true heritage, and could recite all the moves of the Lipizzaner Stallions of Austria. When I was ten the most amazing thing happened –the Lippizzaner Stallions came to FAIRBANKS, ALASKA. This was a miracle similar to Santa Claus making it around the world in one night. Our family didn’t have much extra then, so I was excited, but also knew deep down that I probably wouldn’t get to see these mighty horses in person. I remember how much jealousy I felt when my friend Charlie Jo on the school bus proudly told us all she had tickets. Fate stepped in though, and my dad, being on the maintenance crew for the building the horses were to perform in, somehow got us all tickets (good, up close seats too!) and we saw the amazing horses spin, jump, hop, pirouette and strut up and down the tiny Big Dipper ice arena. In my imagination they were in the fancy palace in Vienna, with the opera style seating and the crystal chandeliers pictured in Henry’s books. I promised myself then that if I ever made it to Vienna I’d see the horses on the stage they were meant to perform on. Many years later, when planning a trip to Europe, I remembered my promise to my ten year old self, and got tickets to the Spanische Reiteschule morning practice. I couldn’t afford a full performance, but the morning practice was reasonable and a dress rehearsal for the actual performance.
When we lined up outside the ornate yellow stones of Hoffberg Palace and the doors to the Reiteschule, I could smell the distinct smell of the horses. When we were let in I saw for the first time the inside of a specially designed ballroom, with green velvet seats, three enormous crystal chandeliers, and a large, richly decorated royal box for the ruling family to enjoy the show. The seats were high up, and the ballroom floor was lower down and covered in a thick carpet of sawdust. Each groom wore the smart historical outfit, and the horses were so strong, powerful, and shockingly graceful as they launched their 1200 pound bodies into the air. The horses I saw in my childhood were younger stallions, and not all of them were white. They were part of an American touring company, and had not been trained at the Reiteschule. The horses in Vienna obviously had the benefit of hundreds of years of training and knowledge to go along with the breeding. The average age of the horses I saw in Vienna was 20! These horses had been performing their ballet for 15 or more years and it showed. The horses were playful, and in tune with their riders and grooms. They were snowy white, and rarely mis-stepped while doing complicated dressage patterns. I remember the shifting bodies of eight great white stallions and the crisp military red of their riders coat as they criss-crossed the ornate and majestic ballroom to classical music written just for them by the great composers of the 18th century.
DIPNETTING ON THE COPPER RIVER
Although my husband is the big hunter, I love to dipnet for salmon as my contribution to the freezer. I started going regularly with our friend Paul three years ago. Some folks dipnet by standing in the water and using the strength of their arms to sweep the large nets against the current to scoop up salmon migrating upstream. That is basically exhausting, and Paul showed me a secret spot (although I’m sure there are hundreds of secret spots all over the Chitina drainage). This spot in particular follows a narrow trail etched into the hillside that meanders along a bluff overlooking the Copper River for just about half a mile before ending in a rocky outcropping perfect for dipnetting the ‘easy’ way. Along the trail is an abandoned trappers cabin, only sagging logs and the cast iron stove are left being too heavy to remove.
Every year that we go we spend all night driving to get there, and then at first light, around 3AM we hike the trail and begin fishing. By 5AM or so the sun is rising over the mighty Copper River, and the delicate pinks, golds, and bronzes of the sunrise paint the faint clouds. The pinks gradually deepen to red, and the whole river looks as if it has caught fire – for just a second as the sun crests the Wrangell mountains. Silhouetted by the craggy bluff, the sunrise reveals the vast width of the river and paints the water crimson and gold. As the sun continues to rise the river gradually returns to the slate gray of the silt that is carried in those turbulent waters, and the sky evens out to a pale blue. These early morning sunrises, combined with the crisp morning air, and the effort of netting thirty or so salmon is one of my most beautiful memories.
To commemorate this milestone birthday, I'm writing down some of my most amazing memories from the last thirty years. I'll post them here as I finish them. Remember that I'm no author, and these are my memories, described faithfully as I remember them.
Enjoy!
CAMP DOGOYAMA
When I was 14 I went to Japan on a summer exchange through 4-H and the Labo program. During this time my host sister Mami and I went to a summer camp in the mountains called Dogoyama. The mountains in Japan are full of birds, insects, and bamboo forests. The first evening we had a huge welcome bonfire – fifty feet square of burning logs, and Japanese drummers hit enormous drums as we danced and whirled in circles around the fire. You grabbed red streamers from the adults, and you said a wish or a prayer into it, rolled it up with your wish inside, and threw it into the air. I remember the air being full of red streamers being thrown lit only by the flames of the bonfire.
After the bonfire, as we walked back to our cabins. The night was dark, with millions of stars, and the air was much warmer than Alaska’s. There were hundreds of moths as big as our hands, attracted to the huge bonfire light. Some of the moths were very pale, and in the reflected moonlight appeared to glow in the dark, and one of those moth’s landed on me – I remember that it only glowed on the top side of the wings, and when it closed its wings the glow was cut off.
LIPPIZANER STALLIONS
When I was a girl, I avidly read all of Marguerite Henry’s horse books. I was friends with Misty, knew King of the Wind’s true heritage, and could recite all the moves of the Lipizzaner Stallions of Austria. When I was ten the most amazing thing happened –the Lippizzaner Stallions came to FAIRBANKS, ALASKA. This was a miracle similar to Santa Claus making it around the world in one night. Our family didn’t have much extra then, so I was excited, but also knew deep down that I probably wouldn’t get to see these mighty horses in person. I remember how much jealousy I felt when my friend Charlie Jo on the school bus proudly told us all she had tickets. Fate stepped in though, and my dad, being on the maintenance crew for the building the horses were to perform in, somehow got us all tickets (good, up close seats too!) and we saw the amazing horses spin, jump, hop, pirouette and strut up and down the tiny Big Dipper ice arena. In my imagination they were in the fancy palace in Vienna, with the opera style seating and the crystal chandeliers pictured in Henry’s books. I promised myself then that if I ever made it to Vienna I’d see the horses on the stage they were meant to perform on. Many years later, when planning a trip to Europe, I remembered my promise to my ten year old self, and got tickets to the Spanische Reiteschule morning practice. I couldn’t afford a full performance, but the morning practice was reasonable and a dress rehearsal for the actual performance.
When we lined up outside the ornate yellow stones of Hoffberg Palace and the doors to the Reiteschule, I could smell the distinct smell of the horses. When we were let in I saw for the first time the inside of a specially designed ballroom, with green velvet seats, three enormous crystal chandeliers, and a large, richly decorated royal box for the ruling family to enjoy the show. The seats were high up, and the ballroom floor was lower down and covered in a thick carpet of sawdust. Each groom wore the smart historical outfit, and the horses were so strong, powerful, and shockingly graceful as they launched their 1200 pound bodies into the air. The horses I saw in my childhood were younger stallions, and not all of them were white. They were part of an American touring company, and had not been trained at the Reiteschule. The horses in Vienna obviously had the benefit of hundreds of years of training and knowledge to go along with the breeding. The average age of the horses I saw in Vienna was 20! These horses had been performing their ballet for 15 or more years and it showed. The horses were playful, and in tune with their riders and grooms. They were snowy white, and rarely mis-stepped while doing complicated dressage patterns. I remember the shifting bodies of eight great white stallions and the crisp military red of their riders coat as they criss-crossed the ornate and majestic ballroom to classical music written just for them by the great composers of the 18th century.
DIPNETTING ON THE COPPER RIVER
Although my husband is the big hunter, I love to dipnet for salmon as my contribution to the freezer. I started going regularly with our friend Paul three years ago. Some folks dipnet by standing in the water and using the strength of their arms to sweep the large nets against the current to scoop up salmon migrating upstream. That is basically exhausting, and Paul showed me a secret spot (although I’m sure there are hundreds of secret spots all over the Chitina drainage). This spot in particular follows a narrow trail etched into the hillside that meanders along a bluff overlooking the Copper River for just about half a mile before ending in a rocky outcropping perfect for dipnetting the ‘easy’ way. Along the trail is an abandoned trappers cabin, only sagging logs and the cast iron stove are left being too heavy to remove.
Every year that we go we spend all night driving to get there, and then at first light, around 3AM we hike the trail and begin fishing. By 5AM or so the sun is rising over the mighty Copper River, and the delicate pinks, golds, and bronzes of the sunrise paint the faint clouds. The pinks gradually deepen to red, and the whole river looks as if it has caught fire – for just a second as the sun crests the Wrangell mountains. Silhouetted by the craggy bluff, the sunrise reveals the vast width of the river and paints the water crimson and gold. As the sun continues to rise the river gradually returns to the slate gray of the silt that is carried in those turbulent waters, and the sky evens out to a pale blue. These early morning sunrises, combined with the crisp morning air, and the effort of netting thirty or so salmon is one of my most beautiful memories.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The Grinchies
Today was a crazy mix of happy holiday preparations, and the GRINCH. For most of the day I hung garlands, tied bows, finally got all the Christmas stuff out and up onto our walls. At 2PM I pried Rich off the couch and outside to help hang the lights. He wasn't feeling to good, since he's been very sick the last week - but I wanted to get the lights done while we still had light. Well we got the lights up and were testing them, when somehow...
I stapled my ring finger with the staple gun. Right into the flesh and the joint. It was GROSS. I was very calm at first, told Rich I had a problem, he took me inside. Then he pulled out the staple with a pair of PLIERS and I darn near fainted away. Then I almost puked. Then I cried a bit.
Now it's better, and with lots of ice and tylenol, I'm doing okay.
I felt a little grinchy after the whole staple incident, so I'll be finishing the rest of my decorations tomorrow.
Love,
Shan
Friday, December 7, 2007
Donna Reed - Eat your heart out!
It’s winter again, and my hair started bothering me. It was too long, it didn’t fit well under hats and my snowmachine helmet. It had split ends, and was dry. So CHOP CHOP CHOP I now have a bob.
Donna Reed ain’t got nothin’ on me!
Will Rich find me vacuuming in heels? Probably not.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Kids?
So I took my niece and nephew this weekend to help out my sister. I'm left with a few lessons:
1. Projectile vomiting without drinking liquor is not only possible, but happened in my living room.
2. A bottle of milk just doesn't fix everything.
3. Carving pumpkins is a lot more fun and interactive if everyone is healthy.
As you can probably guess, my 8 year old nephew and my 18 month old niece had the flu, not as fun a weekend as I had expected. I realized how much work goes into kids. I feel old, and not ready for kids yet. I'm almost 30, and Rich and I have been talking about taking the plunge next year around this time. OMG.
You are so free without kids! You don't have to worry about pointy objects being left out, you don't have to fear deviation from bedtime. Rich and I don't really bring home viruses. Neither do the dogs. Oh yeah, and diapers are 40 cents each. I don't use anything ten times a day that costs 40 cents per use!!!!
I'll probably still be more than ready to pop out kids next year, but man this was a rough weekend.
Shan
PS I will say cuddling with a baby and your husband is a good thing. It feels right, and good. Neither Rich or I had ever done that before...
1. Projectile vomiting without drinking liquor is not only possible, but happened in my living room.
2. A bottle of milk just doesn't fix everything.
3. Carving pumpkins is a lot more fun and interactive if everyone is healthy.
As you can probably guess, my 8 year old nephew and my 18 month old niece had the flu, not as fun a weekend as I had expected. I realized how much work goes into kids. I feel old, and not ready for kids yet. I'm almost 30, and Rich and I have been talking about taking the plunge next year around this time. OMG.
You are so free without kids! You don't have to worry about pointy objects being left out, you don't have to fear deviation from bedtime. Rich and I don't really bring home viruses. Neither do the dogs. Oh yeah, and diapers are 40 cents each. I don't use anything ten times a day that costs 40 cents per use!!!!
I'll probably still be more than ready to pop out kids next year, but man this was a rough weekend.
Shan
PS I will say cuddling with a baby and your husband is a good thing. It feels right, and good. Neither Rich or I had ever done that before...
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