Tag Archives: travel

Some background where all those illegal children are coming from

This  one's still in the US doing duty for a fried chicken joint in Kerrville, TX.  But the next lifetime for it might well be Guatemala.

This one’s still in the US doing duty for a fried chicken joint in Kerrville, TX. But the next lifetime for it might well be Guatemala.

La Camioneta: The Journey of One American School Bus

(La Camioneta) 2012NR 1hr 11m You rated this movie: 5 stars – Average of 25,249 ratings: 3.5 stars Follow the journey of a school bus from the United States to Guatemala, where it’s resurrected as a vehicle that transports Guatemalans to work.

The murderers are killing the bus drivers and anyone else who strikes their fancy.  Thousands of orphans from homicided parents.  And trekking to the US with all the risks is their best chance, even with legions of pedophiles waiting every step along the way.  And a welcome from the Statutes of Liberty and a citizenry with a motto, “I got mine!”

I love old school busses.  Maybe I’ll get to be born in Guatemala next lifetime.  Or better yet, maybe you will, my fellow Americans.

Old Jules

Hyundai – Jeanne’s new ride

Hi readers.  Jeanne’s 1991 Oldsmobile’s headed for someone poorer and more desperate than she is.  Found herself a spanking new Hyundai with less than 100,000 miles on it and less than a decade old.  Ran it through all the mechanic pre-purchase checks and online automotive and title histories, and concluded it might be okay.

Maybe it will.  The Oldsmobile was doing some threatening and complaining it wasn’t getting enough treasure spent keeping it running.  So I hope the Hyundai measures up and lasts a while.

I’m thinking it’s named after a place I visited in Korea while I was on leave, travelling around site seeing.  Went somewhere, Taegue I think, saw a giant Buddha, rode a coal fired train around all over the countryside.  And came to Hyundai down the other side of the bay from Pusan.  Beautiful place.

Beautiful place all to hell, it was.  Trees blooming, a serene bay with all manner of Chinese junk looking boats and smaller boats with wiggletails used as oars.

People around Hyundai didn’t see much of GIs, same as up at Taegu.  I spent 30 days travelling around and a week-or-so at Hyundae.  A fond memory I hadn’t remembered until Jeanne decided on that car.

Hell of a deal.

Old Jules

Various stuff

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

Jeanne called yesterday and said she’d fallen and broken her arm in a parking lot.  Drove to a clinic somewhere and got a temporary cast put on.  Afterward she  said she’s having to type with one hand, so she mightn’t be doing much online work for a while.

I’m fairly concerned about this cat, Tabby.  She’s 10-11 years old ….. seems to have a propensity for skin conditions summers, doesn’t get along well with the two long hairs, goes through phases of beating up Niaid, or being so stand offish the older cats gang up on her and drive her away from the food.  All of them have too many scratches on their faces for my tastes.

Sometimes I’ll go a couple of days without seeing her, and when I do, about half the time she pretends I might hit her, cringes away.  I’m keeping as close an eye on her as I’m able until two weeks passes since the agressive coon incident, because I have the impression she ain’t feeling well at all.

One of the possible jobs I’m looking at is in Arizona, a couple has a self-styled animal rescue setup, would like someone to help out feeding and taking care of the animalcules on their four-acres of land.  In exchange for a site with utilities.  Might be fun to do for a while, and if Tabby did well there I think I might persuade myself she’d be happier there permanently than voyaging around with the two older cats and me.

Spent all day in town Friday trying to get everything done transferring title, insurance etc on the new RV, but the day wasn’t long enough.  Complications with undotted Tees and uncrossed eyes had me scurrying around back and forth up and down a lot of the day.

Back tomorrow to hopefully get it all finalized.

Perfect Man Shrine – Columbus, NM

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

Someone during the 1960s built this, put up a small RV park with water and electrical connections around it, evidently for potential pilgrims.  It’s on the boundary between desert and Columbus, New Mexico.  I used to go hang around there most times when I’d visit Columbus for other reasons.  Never saw anyone there, though the shrine did have palm leaves fresh every time during the early 1990s.

But the RV park is grown up with cactus and creosote, doesn’t appear to have ever been used.  The power boxes are full of mud-dobber nests.  I’ve been thinking for some while about the place as a winter refuge.  I gather the place changed hands after someone died, the new owners live across the street and aren’t followers of Meyar Baba.  They work for USFS in Arizona several months a year. 

I was talking to one of the cats about the place last night when I was trying to sleep and she was trying to keep me from it by kneading her claws on my chest.  She likes the thought of it being somewhat remote, while having the potential for desert mice and lizards.  Probably fairly warm, too.  Suggested, once I get footloose, if something else doesn’t get in the way, that I try chasing down the current owners.  Try to get a feel for whether they’d take kindly to having someone park in there occasionally.

I’m thinking that cat might be onto something.

Old Jules

Me, Being a People Person, And All

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

A nice little norther blew in here the past couple of days, cooled things down something awful.  I slept in the RV, and by ones and twos the cats volunteered to join me inside for a bit of quality time, sleeping on my chest, purring and kneading claws pleasantly.  They tell me, with reservations, they think they’re going to be able to hunker down and live in there.

Came just in a nick of time, too, because what?  Three daybreaks ago?  I noticed something coming out of the now-open chicken house just after dawn.  Double-take revealed it to be a bobcat, small for a bobcat, but large enough to make a meal out of any of these wannabe toughies.  Last night the cats and I played fruit-basket-turn-over, two inside alternating with two nearby waiting their turn to come up next time I got up to pee.

Got my ‘Work for RVers and Campers Newsletter by email this morning:

Work for RVers and Campers: Employment, Volunteer Positions, Jobs, and Business


Nowhere near as many listings in there for west Texas, New Mexico and Arizona as there were last issue, which had a couple I found exciting.  This issue only has a couple in Texas, neither far enough west to suit me, and one in Arizona up in the neighborhood of Sedona.  They want someone in an RV park up there to do various things in exchange for a place to park. 

But me going to Sedona would be carrying coals to Newcastle, I reckons.  Besides, they wanted applicants to send a photo of themselves, along with a resume.  With winter coming on I reckons I’d have to figure out which winter pic of me to send:

I’d naturally want to throw out the best possible impression of myself I could.

And  they want the resume to demonstrate how I’m a people person, which of course, I am.   Ain’t hardly any more people people out there than I am, taken from certain perspectives.  But I’m not sure how I’d go about conveying it to them.

Been a long time since I wrote a resume, though I used to count myself a fair hand at doing it.  If I was the one doing the hiring out there, I’d jump at me.

Old Jules

Trip West Photos from Jeanne

Crater Lake was a new discovery for me this trip. I took hundreds of pictures there. Heck, have one more:
That’s Wizard Island, the secondary cone. Crater Lake is about six miles across and 2,000 feet deep.
Aw, shucks, here’s one more, ’cause you’ve got to see the Phantom Ship:

Now to the Willamette National Forest. Here’s the view coming in towards the resort town of Detroit:

Below is where I like to hike around Devil’s Creek:

Forest floor.

My family has been going to Mt. Rainier since the 1920’s.

Mt. Rainier the first evening at sunset.

Clear weather is not always a given at the mountain, which makes its own weather!

I love bracket fungus and the dew drops caught my attention.

This lake can be seen by the road if you travel towards Sunrise (east) at Mt. Rainier. I’ll put pictures up of the view at Sunrise some other time.

This great view of Myrtle Falls is only a 7 minute walk from the parking lot at Paradise.

Narada Falls is too big to fit into any camera view, so I just put it in the background for this shot.

Evening sun on the mountain.

I hope you enjoy these, it’s hard to choose favorites from 2600 photos! I’ll put more up some other time if you like.


Jeanne Checks In

While we all twiddle our thumbs in anticipation waiting to hear whether Old Jules is giving the lawyers a bad day or has gone fishing, here’s a very brief update from me, Jeanne.
I just realized I never showed you the final version of this particular mandala that I was working on in June, so here it is:

Those little shaded areas are actually a clear metallic ink.

I  completed four good-sized works in June and July before I went on vacation. I’ll put the others up at some point, or Old Jules will.  I entered an exhibit application showing those other three as examples of my work, and if one of them gets chosen, I’ll get that one matted and framed. I’ve been in the exhibit before, which is held in a local nature center building, but I haven’t heard anything yet for this year.  I like this one because they let you put prices on your work and the Parks and Recreation Dept. actually makes some purchases themselves for their buildings throughout the county. So we shall see. I’ve never won any prizes or sold anything through this exhibit, but the judge this year is affiliated with our  Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art (Kansas City, MO), so it makes sense to let one more art professional  see my stuff.  Usually the winners from this show are either doing photography or have some 3-D element in their work.

I took 2460 photographs on my trip, most of them in Oregon and Washington. If you want to connect with me on Facebook, you can see some of them (I’m there as Jeanne Bangs Kasten). There were some really great photos because I got a new camera, a Canon Powershot Elph somethingorother.  Even just set on automatic, the pictures were great. I took pictures at Breitenbush Hot Springs, the Oregon beach, Tacoma, WA, Mt. Rainier, Ballard Locks (Seattle) and the Dale Chihuly Museum at the Seattle Center (right by the Space Needle). I have a ton of scenery and greenery photos, and I have an obsession (apparantly) with running water scenes.  I haven’t passed on very many to Old Jules yet because it involves either re-sizing them all or putting them on a separate flash drive. 
 Well, back to work!  And the rest of you can go back to twiddling your thumbs. 

Hot Diggety Damn – Join Me for One of These Next Year! Let’s Party!


Co-Commissioned and Co-Produced by The Santa Fe Opera and Opera Company of Philadelphia.
Featuring David Daniels in the title role.

Featuring Joyce DiDonato in the title role.

First performances since 1979. New Production.
Featuring Susan Graham in the title role. 

Mozart, The Marriage of Figaro from 2008. 
Verdi, La Traviata from 2009.
In honor of the 200th anniversary of the composer’s birth.


Venue to be Announced
In honor of the 200th anniversary of the birth of Richard Wagner
and the 100th anniversary of the birth of Benjamin Britten.
Richard Wagner, Wesendonck Lieder
Original version for voice and piano
Benjamin Britten, Cabaret Songs
Christine Brewer, Soprano
Frédéric Chaslin, Piano
Liszt, Wagner Transcriptions
Frédéric Chaslin, Piano

SUNDAY, AUGUST 18, 2013, 4:00 PM
Basilica Cathedral of Saint Francis of Assisi
Stravinsky: Mass
Monteverdi: Vespers (selections)
A recreation of the concert Igor Stravinsky himself conducted on this date fifty years ago in his last appearance in Santa Fe.   That historic concert will be recreated by members of The Santa Fe Opera Apprentice Program and the Santa Fe Opera Orchestra led by Chief Conductor Frédéric Chaslin. 

Jacques Offenbach
Last performed by The Santa Fe Opera in 1979.  New Production.
Sung in French
With English Dialogue
June 28, July 3, 6, 12, 19, 30, August 7, 15, 21, 24


CONDUCTOR   Frédéric Chaslin
DIRECTOR     Lee Blakeley
COSTUME DESIGNER    *Jo van Schuppen
CHOREOGRAPHER       Peggy Hickey
GRAND DUCHESS   Susan Graham
WANDA +*Anya Matanovič
FRITZ *Paul Appleby
BARON PUCK +Aaron Pegram
PRINCE PAUL  +Jonathan Michie
GENERAL BOUM  Kevin Burdette


Santa Fe Opera audiences in the 1970s loved this grande opera bouffe, and it was presented no less than four times in a decade.  Mr. MacKay decided it was time to bring it back.  The Grand Duchess, a young woman raised by tutors, is a tyrant, and the opera revolves around the complications of her love life.  Susan Graham, one of the world’s leading dramatic mezzo-sopranos, has a virtuoso comic side which will be remembered from the 2003 performance of another Offenbach gem, La Belle Hélène.  The object of her affections is a young officer, Fritz, sung by Paul Appleby in his debut.  Mr. Appleby was a national winner of the 2009 Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions, a career grantee from the Richard Tucker Foundation in 2011, and recently, the recipient of the 2012 Martin E. Segal Award. He performs extensively with pianist Steven Blier and the New York Festival of Song.  The object of Fritz’s affection, Wanda, is sung by Anya Matanovič, also making her debut. The cast also includes Kevin Burdette, remembered as Kitty’s father in the 2011 production of The Last Savage.  Making their debuts are scenic designer Adrian Linford and costume designer Jo van Schuppen.  Both have worked with director Lee Blakely, who is returning to Santa Fe for the 2012 production of The Pearl Fishers.  Chief Conductor Frédéric Chaslin will conduct.


Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Sung in Italian
Last performed by The Santa Fe Opera in 2008.  Revival.
June 29, July 5, 10, August 3, 8, 13, 20, 23


CONDUCTOR      John Nelson
DIRECTOR   Bruce Donnell
PRODUCTION Jonathan Kent
SUSANNA   *Lisette Oropesa
CHERUBINO       *+Emily Fons
MARCELLINA   Susanne Mentzer
BASILIO      +Keith Jameson
COUNT ALMAVIVA      Daniel Okulitch


The American soprano Lisette Oropesa will make her company debut as Susanna.  Ms. Oropesa, a former member of the Lindemann Young Artist Development Program at the Metropolitan Opera, has appeared in a number of operas there including Das Rheingold and Siegfried.  Most recently she appeared in the Met’s production of The Enchanted Island.  The Countess and Count will be sung by Susanna Phillips and Daniel Okulitch, who was last seen in 2011 as the Last Savage in the opera of the same name.  Ms. Phillips has been singing leading roles both in this country and abroad, including the Metropolitan Opera.  Emily Fons, an apprentice in 2008 and 2009, is Cherubino.  The distinguished conductor John Nelson, who has appeared with orchestras and ensembles in this country and in Europe, led the Company’s 1997 production of Semele.  Director Bruce Donnell will recreate the original production by Jonathan Kent.  He has directed extensively at the Metropolitan Opera including a tour to Japan, and with opera companies in Europe, Canada and South America.  He has directed a number of productions for The Santa Fe Opera, most recently Salome in 2006.

Gioachino Rossini
First performances by The Santa Fe Opera.  New Production.
Sung in Italian
July 13, 17, 26, August 1, 6, 14


CONDUCTOR   Stephen Lord
DIRECTOR   Paul Curran
ELENA  +Joyce DiDonato
MALCOLM GROEME     *Daniela Barcellona
UBERTO   *Lawrence Brownlee
RODRIGO DI DHU   *René Barbera
DOUGLAS D’ANGUS   Wayne Tigges

Rossini’s opera of 1819 is based on The Lady of the Lake by Sir Walter Scott in which a young woman, Elena, is pledged to marry one man, but loves another.  Joyce DiDonato, in the title role, performed the opera in 2010 at the Paris Opera and in 2011 at La Scala.  In La Donna del Lago, her true love, Malcolm, will be sung by mezzo- soprano Daniela Barcellona.  Born in Trieste, Ms. Barcellona is recognized as a superb interpreter of Rossini whose works she has sung throughout Europe.  She appeared with Ms. DiDonato in the Paris and La Scala productions.  The brilliant American tenor Lawrence Brownlee is Uberto, the disguised King James who also loves Elena.  He studied at Indiana University, making his Metropolitan Opera debut in 2000. Tenor René Barbera, a native of San Antonio, is Rodrigo.  In 2011 he received the top three prizes in Plácido Domingo’s Operalia Competition, the first singer to do so.   All three are making their company debuts in this new production.  Stephen Lord returns to conduct.  He led The Tales of Hoffmann in 2010.  Director Paul Curran and scenic and costume designer Kevin Knight most recently created Albert Herring in 2010.

Giuseppe Verdi
Sung in Italian
Last Performed by The Santa Fe Opera in 2009.  Revival.
July 20, 24, 29, August 2, 5, 10, 16, 22


CONDUCTOR      Frédéric Chaslin
DIRECTOR   Laurent Pelly
VIOLETTA  *Brenda Rae
ALFREDO    +*Michael Fabiano
GERMONT     *Roland Wood (American debut)
GASTONE    +Keith Jameson
DOUPHOL +* Jonathan Michie
DR. GRENVIL  Dale Travis

French director Laurent Pelly returns to Santa Fe to recreate his striking production of La Traviata with scenic designer Chantal Thomas.  Making her debut as Violetta is Brenda Rae.  The American soprano has been a member of the ensemble at Frankfurt Opera where she has sung major roles.  Her appearances in Europe include performances at National Opera of Bordeaux, Glyndebourne Festival, Bayerische Staatsoper, and Arena di Verona.  Alfredo will be sung by Michael Fabiano, a former apprentice who has been winning acclaim in this country and in Europe.  He was a grand prize winner at the 2007 Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions and was featured in The Audition, the documentary about the competition.  He has made debuts at English National Opera, San Francisco Opera, Dresden Semperoper, Opera Cologne, Deutsche Oper Berlin, and others.  Baritone Roland Wood is a British native, having received his music education at Royal Northern College of Music and at the National Opera Studio and English National Opera where he has also performed.  He has sung with opera companies throughout Scotland, England and in Europe.  All three are making their first appearances in Santa Fe.  These performances also mark Mr. Wood’s American debut.

Theodore Morrison
Libretto by Theodore Morrison and John Cox
World Premiere
Commissioned and Produced by
The Santa Fe Opera and Opera Company of Philadelphia
Sung in English
July 27, 31, August 9, 12, 17


CONDUCTOR  Evan Rogister
DIRECTOR   Kevin Newbury
OSCAR WILDE   David Daniels
ADA LEVERSON  Heidi Stober
FRANK HARRIS  +William Burden
WALT WHITMAN  Dwayne Croft


David Daniels is one of music’s leading countertenors whose career spans music of the Baroque era to the contemporary.  He appeared in the Company’s 2011 production of Vivaldi’s Griselda and recently in the title role of Handel’s Rinaldo at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.  He was the leading countertenor in the Metropolitan Opera’s Baroque pastiche, Enchanted Island, seen worldwide in theaters in HD.  Heidi Stober was Musetta in the 2011 revival of La Bohéme and prior, as Tigrane in Radamisto with Mr. Daniels in 2008.  She is singing the role of Zdenka in the 2012 production of Arabella.  Mr. Burden will be remembered for his sympathetic performance of Captain Vere in the 2008 production of Billy Budd.  He is appearing as the mysterious Shepherd in the 2012 production of King Roger.  Kevin Newbury last directed Life Is a Dream by Lewis Spratlan in 2010.  He will continue his collaboration with scenic designer David Korins. Evan Rogister, who has made his career primarily in Europe, is now in demand with opera companies in the U.S and returns to conduct King Roger in 2012.


Philosophy by Limerick – Dante Disneyland

Minnie Mouse can be open-minded
And wabbits can sometimes be blinded
By synthetic passion
Of this or that fashion:
Uncle Scrooge accepts plastic! [Reminded!]

Old Jules

Day of Lost Souls (Part One)

Today and tomorrow’s post (part two) is a short story that was written many years ago. We had decided it was too long for the blog, even in two parts,  but since many of our readers are also writers,  I think you won’t mind the length.  ~Jeanne

Blue on blue, I tunneled through tints and shades of airy void  from the New Mexico desert to arrive in San Francisco several hours ahead of my outbound rendezvous.  The old DC3 clubbed the air dizzy and crawled over the unconscious body getting me to the coast; hammered the molecules of blue air into something solid as ice to hold man and machine aloft and skim across the bumpy surface.

In some other reality pilots and navigators of the heavens probably do spectra-soundings of color and hue, the way old mariners sounded the nighttime and foggy channel bottoms sampling with buckets to fix their positions by mud color, or sand, or shells.  These sky mariners in the elsewhere examine the debris in the  buckets and ponder;  arid Southwest: almost turquoise.  Inland California:  grey blue.  Coastal: yellow hazy blue.  But that was 1964.  Perhaps the atmosphere has grayed these intervening years, the way my own mustache, eyebrows, and hair has shifted to bare metal silver.

San Francisco
But we were young in that country.  The November 9, 1964, San Francisco airport terminal teemed with us. We milled around the gate that Sunday awaiting our flight to Hawaii.  Ten more days and I’d be a full 21, a legal man.  Full of mature, critical appraisal I skulked the waiting area; studied the rosy cheeks and sunny attitudes; the strapping young adults I knew I’d spend the next piece of my life among.  Though some carried more years, I thought to myself they were mostly kids.

I watched those youngsters straight-on for a while, until they noticed.  Then I shifted and gazed covertly at the reflections from the plate glass window/wall shielding us from the din of steel-gray planes and scorching ash-gray runways cut by yellow stripes threading the distant taxiways to vanish in the heatwaves and hazy yellowblue skies.  I pretended to read my book and scrutinized my soon to be companions out of the corners of my eyes; strained to hear the dribble of their conversations which each seemed to say, “I’m a neat person.  I’m worthy of this.”  Some, I could surmise, tacitly agreed to allow certain others to be as neat as themselves.

We were an elite, the acceptance letter implied.  Only one of every forty applicants, the letter whispered, were accepted for the intensive preparation to save the poor in hungry backward lands.  We were all riding on the bobsled thrill of those flattering words.  As a result the fast pulsebeat of waiting in the terminal became a political caucus.  Probably most of us figured those others were likely to be awfully special, but secretly believed they made a mistake in letting our particular selves in.

The candidates talked films; of Viradiana, of Antonioni, of Fellini and of a swede who made foreign films in those days. Of existentialism.  Talked about the beatnik poets.  All so serious.    What’s your major?  Where did you get your degree?   I pondered the words, scowling to myself.

I could see these mostly weren’t my kind of folks.  I’d scraped and cheated to get a high school diploma several years earlier, did three years in the army.  Hitch-hiked across the country several times, been in jail more than once.  Sweated under a blazing sky in dozens of hellish jobs that didn’t carry any prestige in these circles of toy-people, I thought, who were going off to India to teach the native how to raise chickens.  Bouncing off through rainbow skies bearing the weight of the white man’s burden to teach a culture older than our God how to raise poultry.  But we were young in that country.

I felt uncomfortable in my snazzy dark suit with narrow lapels. My only suit.  It had been the leading edge of fashion when I bought it for $20 a couple of years earlier in Boston.  The pencil thin blue tie with gold flecks felt awful on my neck, and worse as I became conscious of the width of ties the others were wearing.

Trainees impressing one another
As the morning wore into early afternoon more of the India X peace corps trainees filtered in the waiting area from incoming flights, draining the rest of the country of heroes…..I hung around alone and tried to guess which were trainees, and which were just transients.  I gazed at the women who were obvious volunteers, wondering whether any peace corps taboos would stand between me and female companionship during the next few months.  I idly checked out the prospects, most of whom didn’t bear up under a lot of scrutiny.  Rules of training could make for a long dry spell, and the fraternity boys were already busy staking out their campsites among the curly haired goldiloxes of the crew.
Eventually, I noticed a lean, freckle-faced red-headed Irish looking chap hanging around watching, same as I was……he wasn’t mingling with the other selectees much, and he appeared gangling and awkward.  I smiled to myself, musing, probably feeling superior, just as I felt somehow superior to all these fresh-scrubbed college folks, off to slum among the huddled masses.  McCreary,  I learned, was his name.  David McCreary.  At that moment I  watched, listened to, studied a future friend for life for the first time.

Strangely vacant blue-eyed, lanky, ruddy faced and scarlet haired, a lady schoolmarm from Virginia caught my focus.  I heard her tell someone she was an English teacher.  Lillie Rogers.  Lillie Belle Rogers, I learned later.  No raving beauty, but a touch of class, presence, bearing.  Straight and tall.  I sensed an underlying tinge of bitterness in her manner.  Sometime later it came to mind, and in some ways, a female counterpart to McCreary.  There among all the others, I didn’t sense that Lillie would be the lady of this group I’d come to know best.  I’d have rejected that notion, then.  Lillie Belle Rogers.  A long, sensuous neck ahead of Nancy Philson and  Priscilla Thomas in a dead heat.  Women I wouldn’t have picked for myself that day in the San Francisco airport, but in a few weeks, the training gave everyone a chance to show their mettle.  Or their fluff.  For those three and a few others, it was bare, polished metal.

The flight to Oahu was long…..I was seated next to a tough blonde named Georgia Grover…..nice humor, vaguely pretty, and I began laying what I hoped was groundwork for later.  Foundations for things to come which never came.

Arrival in Honolulu
When eventually we arrived on the islands the alienation I felt was already rising.  I didn’t like a lot of folks in those days, and I could tell I mostly wasn’t going to like these.  The chaos leaving the main terminal created visible stress among the chosen.  We had half a mile or so to walk to the Hawaiian Airlines Terminal and the next jump to the big island.  No transportation for the bags.  An early test.

The husky young college gentlemen struggled with their own bags and staggered in macho competition to help the attractive ladies.  Mr. and Mrs. Eebie, the elderly retired couple of the group shuffled along behind with the jaded males and less attractive females while the girly girls and ex-twirlers chattered across the tarmac admiring the white man and his burden.  Georgia Grover shrugged away the offers of help and shouldered her own bags.  Most likely, Lillie Rogers, Priscilla Thomas, and Nancy Philson never had the offer.

Hilo Training Center
During the next weeks the time passed quickly;…..language lessons, chicken house made from lava rock passed down hand to hand, chopping sugarcane in the fields for the thatched roof, a walking bridge made from downed palm trees, formal exercise, poultry disease classes, inoculations against the diseases of the distant east.  I gradually came to know the other trainees, and they, me.  I gradually found a few  worthy of respect.

Somehow we found time to frolic in bluegreen waters under the bluewhite waterfall.  We climbed the nearby cliffs and gazed into the swift discharge.

And late one afternoon I found myself with Lillie whispering from a cradle of limbs in a huge banyan tree near the falls; lips brushing ear and neck to be heard above the cascading clamor of falling water.  Forms and futures swirled in clouds studied through a break in the green umbrella.

One afternoon in a distance run, I began jogging beside the redhead, David.  We outdistanced the whole crowd on a ten mile run, came in long before the rest.  Found we weren’t appreciated for our efforts.  Evidently it was intended to be something of a fellowship, team thing.  The whole affair on the big island was a distance run, and David and I were already far behind.

That night, David and I went into Hilo and had a few beers, exchanging a few dreams, disappointments, and observations about the place and the people.  We were young in that country.