Our Charge

This image by Ferdi Rizkiyanto struck me, and then a poem heard at our church this morning brought it home. Our charge, as parents, as citiczens, as consumers, as beings, is to care for one another.

Inventing Sin by George Ella Lyon (from Life Prayers, ed. by E. Roberts and E. Amidon)

God signs to us
we cannot read
She shouts
and we take cover
She shrugs
and trains leave
the tracks

Our schedules! we moan
Our loved ones

God is fed up
All the oceans she gave us
All the fields
All the acres of steep seedful forests
And we did what
Invented the Great Chain
of Being and
the chain saw
Invented sin

God sees us now
gorging ourselves &
starving our neighbors
starving ourselves
and storing our grain
& She says
I've had it
you cast your trash
upon the waters-
it's rolling in

You stuck your fine fine finger
into the mystery of life
to find death

& you did
you learned how to end
the world
in nothing flat

Now you come crying
to your Mommy
Send us a miracle
Prove that you exist

Look at your hand, I say
Listen to your sacred heart
Do you have to haul the tide in
sweeten the berries on the vine

I set you down
a miracle upon miracles
You want more
It's your turn
You show me

Water Pollution

On a recent trip to Austin, Texas I was surprised to see the terrible condition of the Colorado River flowing through the center of the city. As expected, Austin is a progressive city with lots of young neo-hippies milling about, creating fantastic music. Unfortunately, I didn't see much evidence that Austin is working to clean up the pollution and trash in its waters. Ugh!

This prompted me to look into the river/lake pollution in Minneosta (my home) and Nebraska (where I was raised). There is bad, bad news for Nebraska. Check out this site listing the Nebraskan cities/companies responsible for enormous pollution violations. Nebraska is WAY WORSE than Iowa and Kansas with the level of water pollution. I am especially concerned about the people we know in West Point, and my family in Newman Grove and Columbus.

Cupcakes, Camping, and a Rattlesnake

Just prior to our wedding, and in celebration of my 31st birthday, we went camping with John and Jennifer in southern Minnesota. We got a great campsite in Whitewater State Park, only a couple hours from the Twin Cities. Jennifer (an excellent baker) made us delicious mocha cupcakes. In true car-camping style, we spent the majority of our 'camping' time eating.

But we did get in a couple lovely hikes. As you can see, even in late July, it's still not too warm.



On one hike along the river, posted signs suggested we watch out for the "protected", and extremely rare, Timber Rattler. The last rattler had been seen in the park about seven years ago, but we were too lucky!

We weren't actually sure if it was a rattler, because part of the snake's tail had been damaged at some point. But oh, yes, it was!



Watch how the snake JUMPS BACK OUT OF THE BOX as the rangers catch him! (Try to ignore my terrified commentary.)





If you can't see the videos above, you can watch a video of the Whitewater State Park rangers catching the snake here.

Safety From Sprawl

A few months ago I read a fascinating story about a couple who, as a sort of performance art/experiment, squatted for several years in a mall, undetected by mall security. The story surprised me, not in the least that some people find shopping malls so attractive or interesting that they would purposely spend such time there. I can imagine myself doing it as an experiment, or doing it as a form of civil disobedience ... but these people did it for those reasons AND because they really enjoy the mall. Safety in conformity, in predictability, in climate-controlled environments. Huh. Check out their website here.

While I was home this month I did some processing of my own personal history. I drove along the new and efficient Sorensen Parkway, which cuts a clean route through North Omaha. During my childhood the Sorensen's path stopped short at a field just behind my home. A large alfalfa field, forest and stream ran adjacent to my suburban neighborhood. As children we befriended the farmer, rode on his tractor, woke up to the smell of alfalfa, played with the cottonwood seed fluff, and explored this peaceful expanse. Our home life wasn't easy, but both my brother Chris and I found freedom and creative expression out there. I wrote poems about the trees that I befriended, and deeply grieved when one old tree died. One of my most spiritually poignant memories was coming upon an adult deer while alone in a silent clearing of the forest; the deer and I examined each other for a long while in the dappled light. Chris, now a successful contractor, built countless underground forts. Mom took us berry-picking to the mulberry trees, and we labored over many batches of sticky purple jelly. Chris' dad built incredible treeforts, sandboxes, horseshoe pits, and bountiful elevated gardens. Together with our farm cousins we caught snakes or turtles, and charged the nervous neighbor kids to see our wild pets. Mom used a loud whistle to call us home before twilight.

Now that forest has been chopped down to make the "parkway", or autoway.

Our house used to back up to that lovely hill of alfalfa field. The children who live in it now look up to the back of a huge strip mall and parking lot. The cottonwoods are down. The raised gardens and horseshoe pits are long gone. A few spindly pines were planted, but not enough to cover the eyesore of the mall.

And this, my dear readers, is where we're going. A useless, forlorn expanse of parking lot and several big-box stores. I walked into the Marshall's with several septuagenarians, and considered making conversation. The looked like long-time Nebraskans. Could they empathize with my bewilderment and grief? Are there shopping malls now in the places that were once holy to these elders? Should I just get on with it, get over it, buy a pair of shoes and call it progress?


Yet this is what Nebraska can look like. A dear friend of mine bought a home near here, on the edge of Lake Cunningham. I'm happy for her future children, who might have the freedom to play in a park that won't be turned into a parkway. Perhaps her kids will work for true progress.

In Intergenerational Conversation

See this video at the link below:

Pete Seeger & Majora Carter on Environmentalism, Hudson River, Urban Renewal, Protest Music, Civil Rights.

In a Lower Manhattan apartment, one of the greatest living musicians and activists sat down with one of the country's newest great leaders.

Pete Seeger, with a list of awards and honors longer than the neck on his famed banjo, still works tirelessly at 88 years of age.

He spoke with Majora Carter, the young and indefatigable founder of Sustainable South Bronx, an organization that is re-shaping the neighborhood of her youth through pioneering green-collar economic development projects, about the environmental work he has worked at for more than forty years.

And while he's at it, he also finds time to sing a couple songs, demanding the film crew sing along, because it's not nearly as much fun singing to someone as it is singing with someone.

A Walk in the Woods

Last week Nick and I took a trip up to Collegeville, Minnesota to our university. We still have many more years of student loans to pay off, but despite that I am glad I chose this school. Walking around the campuses of CSB and SJU makes me feel so privileged and blessed to have lived in such a special place. Plus, it's where I met Nick!

Our first stop was the Collegeville Orchard and Petting Zoo. The autumn apples were delicious, and the animals curious!


Next we visited the St. John's Pottery studio to meet Richard Bresnahan, a world-famous potter who studied with a "national living treasure" pottery family in Japan. Richard and his interns were exceptionally gracious and committed to their sustainable, local art.

Next, of course, the Abbey. A remarkable structure that always awes.


As required on every visit to St. John's, we took a walk out to the chapel. The Saint John's University campus is set on the edge of a very large glacial lake, Sagatagan. There is path around the lake that is likened to a pilgrimage where the goal is Stella Maris Chapel. The chapel has been recently updated, and its old glacial stone walls covered in stucco. Stained glass is now in the once-hollow windows. I expected to be saddened by the change, but it looks beautiful and the place still has the same peaceful spirit.



I hoped to do a little swimming once we reached the chapel, but the water was cooooold. Instead I waded and enjoyed the multi-colored granite stones and familiar view. The loons have already migrated but plenty of other curious birds listened in on our conversation. I am so grateful that this was once my home.

Biking around Japan!

My friend Cat, with whom I did a lot of adventuring around Hokkaido, is on another grand adventure biking through Japan. She is with an organization encouraging environmental awareness, and while biking the length of the islands the group is leading all kinds of enviro-events, classes, and other fun stuff. Check out the website, and her well-written blog, at this link!

$427 million. That's what the oil and coal industries spent during the first half of 2008 on lobbying and advertising. They're protecting their interests -- and hurting ours.

I just watched a new ad from the We Campaign that tells the truth about what needs to be done -- demanding our leaders FREE US from an addiction to expensive fossil fuels.

Watch it here: http://www.wecansolveit.org/freeusad

Indigenous Ainu in Hokkaido (and an Onsen)

One of my goals in traveling around Hokkaido was to learn as much as I could about the indigenous people. We've visited several Ainu museums in Asahikawa, Niikappu, Sapporo, and now Akan. Perhaps that's my intention wherever I go, so as to be respectful to the history of those here. In some ways Japan is similar to the US, particularly in relation to the native indigenous population.

Last month was an interesting Ainu awareness event. Designed to coincide with the G8 Summit, many Ainu people, local Japanese, foreign residents, and even some Native Americans joined in a Walk across Ainu Mosir (Hokkaido)

This past weekend Nick and I and some friends visited Lake Akan on the eastern side of Hokkaido. There is an "Ainu Village" built for the millions of tourist who visit this lake each year. Lots of trinkets, hand-carved wooden gifts, and crap. Nick bought a cool t-shirt. We took some shots of the Ainu-ish buildings...




And then I discovered something truly remarkable. Among the many souvenir spots was the simple, jumbled shop of a truly talented artist, Masamitsu TAKIGUCHI. I was struck by the beauty of his carved statues. Upon entering his shop I met him and two of his friends, who were conversing in sign language. They were immediately friendly and we spoke mostly in gestures and smiles. It felt freer to be relieved of my language barrier. He did lipread so I was able to communicate the essential information in Japanese (my home country, my current job, my town in Hokkaido). He is a kind man with absolutely beautiful sculptures.






And then, incredibly, we went to THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONSEN IN JAPAN, at Hotel Tsuga. I think it's officially listed as #5 in the country, but... wow. Most of my friends know how I love spas, spa products, and long showers. Onsen in Japan are like a fabulous combination of all three. The onsen was in this awesome luxury hotel. Tellingly, the incredible hotel lobby was decorated with huge sculptures by Takiguichi-san. And the onsen was just amazing, looking out over beautiful Akan lake. The dressing room had free massage chairs! And the onsen had an indoor cave, several hot and cold pools, two different massage pools (with special seats where you can relax while the jets work into your back muscles), a wooden pool inside of a giant hallowed-out California spruce tree, and of course the outdoor rock rotembero. Oh I love onens.

And I heart good art and learning about indigenous peoples. (What a conclusion!?!?)

Let's "Make a Forest"

In February we recorded a song which was chosen as the official song of the G8 Summit in Hokkaido at Lake Toya.


We performed the song several times this spring around Hokkaido, ending with our final performance at a concert on July 5 in Furano.
Backstage during the last concert, the perky female MC asked if I understood Japanese and when I said I have a little we chatted a bit. When she introduced me onstage I entered and stood near the mic, ready to sing. But before we could begin the music she wanted to ask me some questions, which I had to answer impromptu in front of the audience. Luckily my friend/colleague Inugami was there to allow me to answer in English with his translation. (Something about that slightly nerve-wrecking experience reminded me of the judges' questions onstage during the Miss Omaha Pageant when I was eighteen. Funny.)
Another surprise was in store for me, however. At the end of the concert I was unexpectedly asked to join the others in singing "Make a Forest" in Japanese. Oops. I tried to keep my distance from the microphone, for the benefit of the audience, but in the middle of the song Ms. Perky McHelper kindly offered me my own mic, to be sure that all could hear my mangled nihongo skills.


You can see the video of our final show here. (It's my first video I've posted on YouTube, so I'm feeling proud of my techie-prowess and simultaneously nervous for the publicity.)

Food

The following is an excerpt of an interview of Winona LaDuke in YES! Magazine. LaDuke is one of my biggest sheroes and I am very excited to move back to Minnesota and be nearer to her wisdom/action. I like what she says here about work, food, and celebration.

"Sarah van Gelder: Can you tell me about how wild rice is harvested?

Winona LaDuke: We go up on the lake and we put our asemaa, our tobacco, on it. My son is my ricing partner, and we canoe through our rice beds. I used to push him, but he got too big, so now he pushes me out there, and I knock rice into the canoe with two sticks.

The rice grows on our lakes and rivers—some is fat and some skinny, some short, some tall. Some grows in muddy waters, some looks like a bottle brush, and some looks all punked out. That’s called biodiversity. It means not all the rice ripens at once. Some gets knocked off by wind. Some gets a blight, some doesn’t get a blight. The Irish potato famine should have taught us that agricultural monoculture is dangerous—but so is a social monoculture (or you could say, mall-culture).

The anthropologists used to come out and watch us manoominike—harvest the rice. After we rice in the morning, we bring our rice in and let it dry. We parch it over a fire, and we dance on it to get the hulls off, and then winnow it in a basket. We pretty much do the same thing today using wood fires as we’ve always done—we’re an intermediate technology people.

Ojibwe is a language of 8,000 verbs. The word for “work” is a strange construct for us. It doesn’t mean we aren’t a hard-working people, but in our language, the word is anokii, which means that whether you are fishing or weaving a basket, what you are doing is living—which is not the same thing as being paid a wage to do something.

After the harvest, we have a big feast, and we dance and tell stories. The anthropologists watched us, and they didn’t like that. They said we would never become civilized because we enjoyed our harvest too much. We did too much dancing, too much singing.

When you no longer enjoy your relationship to your food, to your plant relatives, to the harvest, to the dancing and singing—when you end up with a harvest that has no relationships or joy, I think that must be the mark of civilization and industrialized agriculture."

A Rural Life

I grew up on the plains of the "bread basket of the world", "the heartland", near the center of the North American continent. The region was considered "frontier", to be settled and farmed by Euro- Americans, in the early 1800's. Nebraska became a state in 1867. Virtually no unbroken land remains, although the open skies of Nebraska are breathtakingly beautiful.

Hokkaido, perhaps more similar to Alaska, could still be called "frontier". Many farming settlers arrived in the early 1900's, and more continue to move here in search of open space. Hokkaido became a full-fledged prefecture in 1947. Vast amounts of the island are untouched.

In applying for programs with which to move abroad, I hoped for a rural placement. After living in the dense city center of Portland for nearly eight years, I missed seeing the horizon. I wanted clean air, fresh water, local produce, places to hike, and outdoor adventure. I got all of what I wished for, and it has been a remarkable experience.

In Autumn my shelves were stocked with a bounty of fresh vegetables, both familiar and foreign. We hiked and explored.













In Winter the snow filled the ditches three meters deep. Crystalline ice sanctified the forest.


















Spring began with violent crashes of melting snow falling from my roof. Then the fields were planted, painstakingly by hand. Rice fields mirrored the volcanic mountains.













And, oh, Summer! The forests are exploding with green foliage, and sounding a cacophonous symphony of unseen creatures. Thunder crashes and sheets of rain threaten to push me from my bicycle. Flowers abound. Every weekend is filled with visiting friends, camping adventures, and promise.

A Sample

Here is a little snapshot in words; a glimpse into three days of my life.

さんぷる 1

Saturday was a quiet day for me. Our wireless internet, which we share with my coworker/neighbor downstairs, was not working. I should be grateful for being lucky enough to live in a town with broadband. . . many JETs do not. But a lack of internet usually just leaves me cranky. I made okonomiyaki おこのみやき, cleaned, and read. The snow is melting (finally!) and crashes off the roof with incredible force.

At the train station at six, in the dark, I met Nick who was returning from work in Asahikawa. We rushed to meet my JTE/friend Inugami-sensei and his wife Yuko. The four of us planned a "double-date" for the evening. We met at a culture event coordinated for Furano ski tourists. It was an incredible spread of traditional music and dancing. Unfortunately the food served was some of the worst I`ve eaten in Japan, perhaps made for the tastes of Western tourists. But never mind; the music and beer were a great combo! The four of us had a nice time meeting Furano`s (mostly Australian) tourists and catching up with local friends involved in the tourism industry. Apparently Inugami-sensei and I share some local notoriety for our music performances together in the past months.





After the culture event rolled to a close, the four of us walked to a blues bar serving Miller Light. The owner of the bar is the oldest of three brothers with businesses in town; his next brother owns a lovely coffee shop; the youngest owns a popular bar welcoming many locals and foreigners with classic rock riffs spilling out of the stereo. It`s been funny to meet the whole family, in stages, over the months we`ve lived here.


さんぷる 2

Sunday morning was an early one, as we`d been out late and Nick needed to catch the SIX am train to work. His students (adorable: aged 2-5) were performing in a speech `contest` in front of beaming parents. After the contest, I took the train and met him in Asahikawa for some shopping. We caught a free bus, packed with teenagers, to the biggest mall in the region. For a country that constantly waxes over their uniquely "polite" culture, not a single person offered their bus seat to the elderly woman standing. Grr. First stop at the mall was a ridiculous Western-food buffet lunch, quite a deal at 1300￥ (about $12) each. I wonder if the other guests had ever seen a man put down quite the amount of food that Nick managed to consume. Men, women and children stared slack-jawed. After months of living as circus performers, I don`t even mind the googling eyes.

The highlight of our day, though, was a return to the mall`s foreign foods store which we`d visited back in October. Back story: In our last visit the store had held our purchases for a few hours while we continued mall shopping, and we picked up the bags on our way out of the mall. Upon returning to Furano I received a frantic call from the food store, apologizing profusely for omitting to return our precious bag of tortillas back into our grocery bag; they had refrigerated the tortillas and forgotten. . . oh shame! Well, this time, upon checkout, I mentioned my name and that I had not received a bag of tortillas about five months ago. . . The looks on the cashiers` faces were priceless. My cashier ran into the back and immediately brought out THE ORIGINAL BAG OF TORTILLAS, frozen, with my name and phone number still taped to the bag. Profound bowing and apologies all around. You know that store employees have been staring at those tortillas for five months during weekly inventory, willing me to hurry up and get the blessed bag. But I thought it was so funny and sweet that they saved the original bag (rather than a store credit or something). Japanese society is so HONEST.

さんぷる 3

Today was a brilliantly blue day of snowmelt and striking mountain vistas. I taught at a school nearly an hour away from town, and on the drive back managed some nice pictures.






I couldn`t tarry, however; I needed to make it to the bank before 3pm to send some money, in a frustratingly complicated system, internationally to my bank at home. Usually this is not a problem. Today I thought I would try to do the currency exchange on my own with the limited help of a bank teller, but, sadly, this did not occur. It is so difficult to be helplessly illiterate and inarticulate. I couldn`t understand the bankteller`s directions and failed miserably at my task. Within an hour my emotions dropped from generous appreciation of Japan`s natural grandeur to defeat. In this culture, to inconvenience someone (the bankteller) as I did (with 5 minutes of language misunderstandings) means that I must feel and show extreme apologetic humility. How can I retain confidence when I am constantly bowing and scraping?! And I will live with these linguistic limitations for another five months! Arg!

Upon returning to the office I had the fortune to run into Mr. Shima, the composer of the song which I sang for the G8 Summit. The CD`s have been burned (5000 of them!) with an unfortunate misspelling of my name, Nick`s English lyrics, my smiling mug, and what I hope to be a good editing job of the music. Who knows where this will go?!

Heed the Call

“The future is knocking at our door right now. Make no mistake, the next generation will ask us one of two questions. Either they will ask, ‘What were you thinking; why didn’t you act?’ Or they will ask instead, ‘How did you find the moral courage to rise and successfully resolve a crisis that so many said was impossible to solve?’”

Al Gore on Monday, December 10, 2007
Nobel Peace Prize lecture, speaking about global climate change

Please see Joanna Macy`s website, to the left of this post, for more inspirational ideas.

Suprise!

びっくりしました！
I may have been chosen for an amazing gig!

In the summer of 2008, Japan will host the G8 Summit in Hokkaido at Lake Toya. G8 is an international conference of the eight most powerful/wealthy countries on the planet. This year`s focus is on the environment. I recognize there are divergent views of the existence of this conference, but I hope that my involvement in it can somehow inspire greater environmental sensitivity.

http://www.mofa.go.jp/policy/economy/summit/2008/index.html This, I believe, is the official website of the summit.

My roles are threefold.
1) I will help to translate a/the themesong for the Summit into English lyrics. The song, "To Make a Forest" was written by a local Yamabe/Furano composer. He saw my performance with The Horse Bones in November and chose me for this opportunity.
2)I will record the song for distribution at the Summit, although I am unsure of the details about the publishing.
3) In June I will perform the song onstage at a HUGE Furano music show. http://www.furanofes.com/

All of this is rather overwhelming and exciting! My first plan is to seek a good vocal teacher get my chops into shape. Next, learn how to write lyrics. . .

November

Some changes in November.

Snow!

Good thing they do all that pruning ahead of time. We got our first significant snowfall this week, and they expect more soon.

The big tree you see in this pic WAS a lovely willow, but during winter we'll have to look at its naked trunk. I'm unsure why they bother to bundle the lavendar, as it could grow back on its own next year. But they sure do prioritize these prunings. . .





The pics of the ski slopes were taken from our office window at the Board of Education. I can only anticipate the pain we'll experience, staring wistfully at the slopes while stuck in the office.

Autumn in Hokkaido

What's the weather like, you ask?

Hokkaido is the northern-most of Japan's four main islands. Although the islands are all very near eachother, Hokkaido is on a completely different air stream, direct from Siberia. So while my friends in Honshu are wearing sweaters or light jackets, I wear a wool hat and winter coat every day. All October we've used the heater in evenings and early mornings. I take a nasty but effective Chinese medicine to help my circulation. And wear multiple sweaters.

The autumn colors have been spectacular. We have been graced with shades of gold, crimson, firey orange, brilliant red. . . I took the waterfall pic Oct 7, and the shrine gates on Oct 13. And the next two at the end of October.








And oh!, the mountains ringing our valley are all snow-capped. It is breathtaking and, admittedly, intimidating. I know winter is coming very soon, and for a long time. The first snowfall in town was October 12, but nothing serious yet. http://www.snowjapan.com/e/daily/furano-now.php


The trees in our town have been ruthlessly pruned to their trunks. The bushes are wrapped in winter bindings, so they won't break under the impending snowdrifts. Those on the first floor will put plywood against their windows so the piles of snow don't crash through the glass. People have already put snowtires on their cars (required for all vehicles). All kinds of winter goods are for sale, though we don't know what is necessary: shoe-racks for our snowy boots, extra blankets to lay on the floor, foam sealants for every window/door. . .

Last week the yukimushi (snowbugs) visited Furano. Apparently their arrival means we should expect snow very soon.