Jackson

A bit of a side blog here today, for no other reason than there is no one more deserving in my eyes, and I've got the time.

Not so long ago I wrote a rather manic post about getting over the fear of sharing treasured books with other people. A troublesome uncorking event, as anyone who received Christmas presents from me will attest to.  With your bookshelves now busting, let us move to your music collections.

For the same reasons - fear of something you adore being cast aside - I always get a bit nervous sharing my truly favourite artists.  Even more so than books, in my life when it has come to musical taste I've come up against quite a bit of, “Who?” or “Can we put something else on?” or my personal favourite, “You'd get on with my Grandma, she loves Jackson Browne too.”  

Anyway, its any easy question right? What's your favourite band? What kinda music do you like?

Deep breath.

Well, I would get on with your grandma, because to me, Jackson Browne is the duck's guts. He's got a classic-folky-rock-acoustic-with-some-occasional-killer-piano sorta thing going on. And that's just the music side of things. I could just as easily say he's my favourite poet, writer, philosopher.  His music is undoubtedly pleasing to my auditory nervous system.  Like many of my favourite things though, it simultaneously stimulates the mind, making it unforgettable. 

My first concert? Jackson Browne (in a baby carrier). Snuck out of school and drove to Paris for a concert? Jackson Browne. High school yearbook quote? Jackson Browne.  Breakup? Late for the Sky. Ready to get over it? I'm Alive. You and your partner need to find 'your song'? Rosie.*

Jackson Browne is so awesome, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame by The Boss himself.

If you're ever inclined, just listen to some JB. And I mean really listen. The music ain't bad, but the lyrics, they'll move you.

Looking through some photographs I found inside a drawer, 

I was taken by a photograph of you.

Fountain of Sorrow

Just...let that one sit with you for awhile. 

Given this chance, I can't even come up with a favourite song. There are so many which I return to at different times and fall in love with all over again.  Recently though, I came across an Early Days of Jackson Browne album, a live recording from 1971. Its pretty great, quite a few shaky versions of later hits that were then just in their infancy. There were a few I'd never heard before, and I've since found out it was because they never got recorded on a studio album, a shame I reckon.  

I'll share one of those with you instead, Shadow Dream Song.   I heard it for the first time the other day, and it's been haunting me (in a good way) ever since, feeling some sort of connection with it.  He was 23 in that recording, the same age I am now.

And y'know, if you don't like the music, that's your deal. I'll never be more honest in saying, I'm sorry for you. At the very least, enjoy some comedy.  From his live solo acoustic album, the intro to The Night Inside Me contains what is perhaps my favourite story ever told (starts ~1:30 in).

Take it easy, folks.

Into a dancer you have grown

From a seed somebody else has thrown

Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own

And somewhere between the time you arrive

And the time you go

May lie a reason you were alive

But you'll never know

* Gotcha.  "He met a really beautiful girl, and that's where the sad part comes in."  If there was one particular moment of losing my innocence, it was realizing what this song was about.   

Chapter 4: The Only Pidgin Lesson You’ll Ever Need

One benefit of being on an island out in the middle of the ocean, with a house all to yourself, and a lack of entertainment, is that you really do have a lot of time to do whatever the heck you’d like.  

Before you get any sordid ideas, I’ll tell you that sitting down with all the fans on, a beer, and my free Tokpisin Grammar Workbook* has been about as wild as it gets and a total blast.  And I say ‘total blast’ because there is something inherently nerdy at my core which loves filling out workbooks.  ...I don’t really have any insights on this behaviour except to confirm for you that people are indeed very strange.

At my workbook-party-for-one last night, I started chapter four and became suddenly quite sad.  Why?  Well, the chapter is set out with a big bit of dialogue in Pidgin, followed by an English translation, which you then do exercises on for the rest of the chapter.  Cracked open Chapter 4 and was presented with the dialogue as follows:

Biam bia.

Biam bia hia.

Biam bia long hap.

Biam bia long klab.

Inap yu biam me bia?

Biam bia bilong me, plis.

So I’m a bit upset, because I think this may be the end of my studies.  Because once you've got these, what else is there that you’d really need to say?

Buy beer.

Buy beer here.

Buy beer over there.

Buy beer at the club.

Can you buy beer for me?

Buy me beer, please. 

*Thanks Peace Corps!  Since its free, I advise you to go check out Dana (and tell her to blog more often) who is actually in the Peace Corps and doing amazing things, likely as a result of taking her language classes much more seriously. 

Wanderlust

Should you find yourself at your flight gate, traveling alone, to a country notorious for violence, crime, and treating women poorly, a moment of hesitation means you're doing things right.  Once you embrace the reaction for what it is - just fear - its time to go. Put on your big girl hat, listen to your funky playlist, and get on the plane. You've got this, all on your own. But if you don't, go for it anyway knowing that there's always people to help, send money, or bail you out of Papua New Guinean prison. 

In PNG the cities are a bit dirty and dangerous, and especially daunting for a young lady traveling by herself. I always employ my Dad's “Look like you know where you're going” approach to seem like a local, but there's only so much you can do about being the only sweaty, blonde, white lady whose a foot taller than everyone in the airport. I think the politically correct way to put this is, my favorite part of Port Moresby was my flight in.

On arrival in Madang where I met my new boss, Barbara, the tension melted away a bit. Its amazing how beer, food, and a place to sleep makes all the anxiety go away. Man, Australia rubbed off on me.

The next day we headed by speedboat to Karkar Island, the location of the plantation owned by the family I'm now working for. Before I had left, my Dad and I tried looking at Karkar on Google Earth to see what we could see, but we had a hard time finding the villages that I'd heard about.

It didn't take long to figure out why.

The majority of the ~60,000 people on Karkar live in these villages made of nothing more than grass huts, without running water or electricity. There are a couple clinics, hospitals, and schools with a bit sturdier infrastructure scattered around. The only Western style homes are those on the plantations, of which there are about half a dozen on the island.

The family lives in a sort of fenced in compound with 3 houses, manicured lawns, and private beach access. I have a completely modern cottage inside the fence with a big bathroom, fans in every room, internet, and a fridge full of healthy foods (rice and beer).

Its really my first experience with a class system. I by no means feel superior, but the division is just part of the culture.  I'm currently learning Pidgin and hoping that speaking with locals in their language might open things up a bit. And for everyone watching from home whose been a bit worried, know that my daily activities are planned by navigating what is and isn't safe *sigh of relief*.

In the midst of all the craziness of my first week here, I received the unfortunate news that my grandfather passed away. He wrote extensively about having the Wanderlust when he was young, an inherited trait I reckon. I don't really believe in heaven, but he did which is what matters. It's probably got more women to flirt with than a nursing home or a hospital bed, and at the very least, it makes me happy to know that from up there he can watch his granddaughter on an adventure like his.

Back in the Saddle

Leaving Australia

Hands down, the most difficult place I've ever left. I've loved places and jobs and people before, but there was something different about this one. Perhaps that it was all of those things at once, plus falling in love with the person I got to be there. I can only hope I find that again.

And those Watsons. I mean, when they took me to the airport they willingly went through airport security just to sit with me until I boarded. That's love folks. We hugged goodbye, handed my ticket to the lady, and all sort of laughed when she offered us all tissues. Then I walked away.

On a hike at KataTjuta, our guide told us “Don't turn around until you're at the top. The view hits you so much stronger.” With that in mind, I walked nearly all the way across the tarmac and only when I was nearly at the plane, turned and looked over my shoulder for one last look at the family that I'd become a part of.

Well, the view did hit me. There it was. Windows made of one-way glass. But they could see me and maybe they were crying, maybe they were waving, but my time to know those things was over all the sudden. I didn't lose them, they weren't gone. You can never have another person, they are never yours. You only have what you share, and if you're lucky, you'll share many things for a long time.

Anyway...that's the back story of the time I cried for an hour on a flight with a bunch of miners and businessmen and stewardesses repeatedly asking me if I was okay.

American Dream

Since we're going for honesty here, I'll lay it out for you. America does not care if you like it, and that makes it sort of hard to love.

I've absolutely loved seeing so many old friends and family. But it does feel a bit like being on tour, which can be uncomfortable. An outsider in a place you thought was home. I'm sure I'll warm to this place, but for now I can tell she knows I'm still drifting, and won't show her true beauties to me until I make a stronger commitment to this land.

For quite a bit of my time back here I've been fairly depressed. I'd say it's due to a mix of Vitamin D deficiency, not having dogs to play with, and according to Sad Kaitlyn the "loss" of "like everything ever" that apparently happened "like really fast".  She's a bit dramatic.  People don't like to talk about it, which is funny, cause I reckon almost everyone goes through it at some point. I'm by no means an expert, nor have I ever had professional advice on the matter. But for people out there having a hard time dealing with some sort of emotional event I offer these tips if you want 'em:

• Time will make it better, and a need for immediate gratification will not.
• Your feelings are probably caused by your heart and/or your brain being a bit hurt. So, it may come as a surprise, but those two things may not be the best tools for making you feel better.
• There is nothing like an old friend and a new perspective.
• Nothing looks hopeful when you're lying in bed.
• Cry. Let it go. Take a shower. Cry while you sing Let It Go while taking a shower. And at the point when you're thinking, “I haven't cried in like 3 days!” Guess what? You're gonna cry, and that's okay.

That's a good starter pack, if you ever need the extended edition, never hesitate to talk to me. And that's another thing. Hello, everyone listening? Think right now about something that's troubling you. Got it? Wasn't hard, was it? Everyone has something in their life that lies on the scale of suckiness at any given time.  Coworkers, High Blood Pressure, a crazy daughter who keeps crying and singing Let It Go in the shower. Sometimes they want to talk about it, so it doesn't hurt to ask. And sometimes just distracting them with your friendship brings them a happiness they forgot they were capable of. Go love on some people, it can't hurt.

Its Happening

Originally I was heading out to Pittsburgh for a graduate school interview for the weekend and was going to return to Maryland on Sunday and have a whole week of packing and planning for PNG. Well, my cousin Mary is way too much fun so I stayed there until Wednesday.

This led to having the craziest Thursday of my life. I made a packing list. I did laundry. I applied for and got a visitor visa for Australia because I completely forgot that you need one if you want to leave the airport during the 24h between your flights. I got immunizations for Tetanus, Influenza, and Typhoid fever. I started taking anti-malarial medication (which may cause weird dreams and hallucinations! I don't know why my doctor said this like it was a bad thing!) And most importantly, I got Seasons 4 and 5 of Downton Abbey for the four day plane journey that's coming up.  

You think you're going to be ready and be calm and cool and collected. And then unexpectedly, it's happening. Before you've made the right Embassy contacts and gathered the appropriate clothing, before you've got the right bug repellent and replacement camera batteries, before your still mending heart and brain are entirely ready to throw themselves into something new...You're excited.  You're going on an adventure.  You're back in the saddle, 

The Next Adventure(s)

Less than a week left here at ol' Carnarvon. The thought of leaving is unreal, I haven't fallen in love with a place so much in my whole life. More on this later though because if I get into it now we'll all be crying and blubbering and I haven't even had to say goodbye yet.

This little post serves as a dual announcement!

The first is that I will be returning to America for most of December and January! The folks are living in Maryland now, but I've already been planning quite a few road trips around the East Coast and if I haven't talked to you already, please get in touch so we can hang out!  All this pending that I even make it with the wet season at Carnarvon (trapped in), snow storms in America (stuck out), and the line of questioning at customs regarding my whereabouts the last few years (held in secret location).

The second is that I will be returning to this side of the planet for the first few months of 2015! I've taken a new governess position with a family who own a plantation on Karkar Island, Papua New Guinea. It'll be hot, it'll be beautiful, and there is an active volcano so what can go wrong!?

After that plans are a bit...undetermined. But what have we learned this year? That's okay, the unexpected is often best.

Its actually quite funny, I'm more nervous about returning to the States than going to PNG. Its been...over 2 years since my last stint in the old mothercountry. And, well, I've changed. Its easy to go new places and have new experiences and become this beautiful new person when you're out in the world on your own.

But how do you take that person home?

I've got about 50 hours of travel in the next week, so I'll let you know if I come up with any answers.

Books! 'Tis A Dull and Endless Strife

Recently I've discovered that among all its finer qualities, I love reading specifically because it demands all of your attention. That in a world where you can sit on the internet scrolling through mindless crap for hours, its very admirable and takes a special dedication to even sit down and read for pleasure for 20 minutes.

And I know there are those out there who read while they do this and that and the other thing. I am not one of these people. I have come to accept that in my life I will never be the cute interesting girl reading a book at the cafe. I am the girl who is trying to stuff an entire roll of sushi in her mouth because its falling apart and I only have one hand and this chapter is really intense so I can't put the book down and I wonder how long I can leave this imitation crab on my shirt before it stains*.

So you want to know what I'm reading!? Yay! Great! Sharing!  *Internal screaming*  Well, let me tell you that I do tend to have this irrational sort of fear about suggesting things to people. I mean, if its something that I really love, I'm just worried people won't like it and that will just break my heart.  So y'know, go easy on me, I'm taking big steps here people.   Deep breath.

For awhile now, I've been hooked on the poetry.  I like that sometimes I don't understand whats going on in a poem, but somehow it gives you all these feelings. How do they do that? The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, perfect example...I lie in wait for the day that I just start reciting that out of nowhere and someone recognizes it. Other favorites are a pair which makes it difficult to stay in the schoolroom all day considering the nature of our surroundings - The Tables Turned (Oh, the irony...) and The Moment (If you also get chills when reading the latter, I love you a bit).

Novel-wise I just finished The Bridges of Madison County in a day.  I can see why it was in the Lonely Old Lady book section (why I was there is a different story), very insightful about the love and the feelings, not quite inspired to go see the real bridges in Iowa again, though. Sorry Mum, once is enough for some things. But I do imagine it'd be a small sort of accomplishment to say that I've been to Grundy Center, Iowa twice in my life. Alas, we can't have it all.

So because of that same fear I mentioned earlier, and the notion that everyone must be thus afflicted, I also tend to take suggestions given to me very seriously just in case the act of suggesting this book means that you are indeed bearing your soul.  So to the two lovely blokes that suggested them, I'm finally making a dent in Clan of the Cave Bear (its like evolutionary fiction...awesome!) and the autobiography of an Australian man called A Fortunate Life. Such an amazing and tragic story. If I had his insight and outlook on life my autobiography would probably be called Holy Crap, How Could I Have Ever Complained About Anything, Its All Pretty Much Candy and Sunshine.

So go spend some time with a book.  And if you can handle it, tell me what you're reading or send me a poem or suggest something awesome**.

*Not very long. It stains immediately. Inspired by true events.

**Do not send me cat videos.

25 Insights From My Sad Handwritten Book

Just recently I've passed the halfway mark of my time here. Six months since landing down under and I'll be honest, there are days where I forget I ever lived somewhere else, and there are days where that first ride into Carnarvon seems so close I could touch it. In consideration of this special occasion, I've decided to let you all in on a little treat.

Up until now, every diary I've ever had has two entries. One about how excited I am to start a new diary. And another a few years later about how I'm really sorry I didn't stick with it. But, good news! I'm finally seeing something through! What this means for you is that by the time something makes it up here on the blog, its been written in the diary, mulled over in my mind, discussed with a few people, written on the computer, and edited four or five times. On this special day though, I offer you a few glimpses into those fresh, straight off the paper, live from the scene reports...plus a few very poor doodles when I'm feeling artistically inclined:

Day -6:  But this time before leaving is hard. Whenever I look at someone a huge part of me is aware that I only have a few days left to see them. And everyone seems to see the same when they look at me.

Day 1:  Its so f*cking hot here.

Day 3:  Made a good new friend, she said something I think I'll keep in mind the rest of my life: “You should travel three times in your life. By yourself, with your other, and with your children.”

Day 11:  The evolution/creation question came up at dinner...Jess asked “But which is true?”...It's hard for me sometimes to portray the argument unbiasedly. Some people think the world is too perfect to have occurred by chance. I think its perfect because it did.

Day 29:  We have a new saying..."Monday is the new Friday at Carnarvon." Sadly Tuesday at 7 AM isn't quite the same as Saturday afternoon...For as nice as we've been with each other, nothing bonds folks like getting' a bit sloshed together. *Chris loves to talk...Alison tends to be more of a listener. 

Day 68:  Maybe when you've had a life like mine where the most unthinkable things have happened, you have a hard time separating the dreams from the dawn. I wish I could say I was always practical or realistic...I seem to be in some walks of life.

Day 74:  Dad called last night and he sounded a bit lonely. I really miss him...he's one of the few people I can just sit and chat with for ages.

Day 76:   But maybe there is more. More that I could be doing with my skills...I guess sometimes I'm just too romantic about science.

Day 82:  I hate that sinking feeling though...when you know something is going wrong and you're not sure what to grasp onto.

Day 84:   I do find that more often than before I feel a strong need to just spend some time alone with the trees and the grass and the birds...I'm feeling a certain sickness, not homesickness (cause where is home?) but more sea sickness. Not sure where I'm going or where I want to end up...and its sort of bumpy all the time and everyone is always throwing up.

Day 88:  Chris, the girls, and I went out for some fishing this morning...I need to be more vocal about when I enjoy things cause when I love doing something I tend to get into it and forget to say thank you and tell them I'm having a great time.

Day 92:  There is just a basic primal bond between humans and nature and taking time to appreciate the latter strikes such a true chord within me.

Day 104:  Whether its two months or eight, I will have to leave, and that's just changed my perspective on everything. I want to take more walks, climb more trees, give more hugs and all that. On a less dramatic note, it is crazy cold.

Day 106:  For all the feigned sophistication a person might have, Dr. Seuss is probably one of the best sources of wisdom one might have on their shelf.

Day 130:  Last night we went out to check the fires and there was a big one heading up a big hill and we just turned off all the lights in the car and stared at it. It was so beautiful. On one side there were hundreds of little burning stumps which looked like twinkling stars. And the other side was just a spreading ring of fire. It is just one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.

Day 138:  And I see all this here, and part of me is involved, but part of me knows it isn't mine. And I begin to worry – how lucky do you have to be to have all this?

Day 150:  Letters are physical. An object you can hold on to and come back to when we can't hold on to and come back to each other.

Day 158:  Its one of my favourite things. Going along with people who you can just share a silence with or discuss whichever errant thoughts cross your mind.

Day 162:  I'm excited for her [my mum] to just chill out and experience the life I have there at Carnarvon. Cause that's really what I have. Its not about sites and being a tourist. Its about meeting my people. Experiencing our life. ...I miss the Carnarvon stars.

Day 164:  Did my first proper bush wee. Thought I could hold it until we got back, but I was busting, and we're laughing so hard cause Chris had to stop to wee three times, he thought there was something wrong with me. “They're going to have an erosion problem back there.”

Day 170:  Boy do I love her, but Mum sort of gets on my case about everything. It just gets a bit heavy. I suppose that's what mothers are for. If someone has to pull you back to reality, at least they cook you your favorite foods and give you cuddles.

Day 172:  We escaped to light the woofer. This thing uses pressurized air, a mix of petrol and diesel, and a fire ring to blow gigantic smoke rings. There is also a huge explosion and its AWESOME.

Day 173:  Went out to one of the old sites. Its amazing, you find all sorts of things left over from lives long past. Hand made nails, tea cups, cut throat razors, horse rein parts, belt buckles. Its really just another of those things about Carnarvon that makes you feel small and momentary and at the same time connected to something more.

Day 176:  Apologies, dear Reader, if you are my child. Mum was wild once too!

Day 185:  I've already started thinking of what I'll say when I leave. Maybe I should say those things sooner.

*This is completely, 100% backwards. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote that.