Art in the Ozarks

from Lexi Eddings...

Yesterday, the DH and I loaded up the camper and headed for Blowing Spring Park in Bella Vista, AR. It's a lovely part of the world, heavily treed hills and rollicking streams. Think we've arrived before the mosquito season begins in earnest. And it's near Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, which we visited today. 

I promised you pictures so this blog is going to be more of a "plog" than usual. I didn't know what to expect when we first arrived. I'd heard the architecture was as much art as the collection it houses, but I sure wasn't anticipating seeing a gigantic spider first thing!

Then I noticed the title of the piece--"Maman." That's French for "mother." Wow. Someone's got mommy issues, I thought. Then I read the artist's explanation:

Ok, I decided. Perspective is everything. I made a judgment based on my own fear of anything with more than four legs. Trust art to make me rethink my assumptions and try new ideas on for size!

This blown glass piece by Seattle artist Chihuly is in the process of being installed, It's only about half reassembled. Can you imagine the packing that went into sending this piece across country? The hundreds of boxes holding the individual shards and how many hours it will take to put them back together? 

Surprisingly enough, I was allowed to take photos inside this museum as long as I turned the flash off on my camera. I didn't know that in time to take pics of the Georgia O'Keefe paintings or the portrait of George Washington with such a pained expression on his face my own teeth hurt, but I was able to capture my favorite of the day: The Reader by Mary Cassatt. She looks so cozy, and so engaged in what she's reading, all snoodled up with pillows and not a care in the world! 

This was my DH's favorite piece. He says he can almost smell the sea air and feel the salt spray! 

Outside the museum, there is a lovely, mostly level asphalt path leading to a number of art pieces set up in the forest! 

These colorful glass globes were floating in a lagoon. Chihuly says they were a big challenge to create because while a sphere is the easiest form for a glass artist to create, it's not so easy on this scale. 

 

What's American art without the quintessential American hero--a cowboy?

And you can't very well go to Arkansas without running into a razorback! 

I'm going to leave you with a snippet from my DH's journal about his take on one of the pieces we saw: 

"One of the Modern Art exhibits that I was fascinated by is in this picture.  I've always been fascinated by perception, and how experience or bias changes the way people see a situation, or how it affects their "world view" as Francis Schaeffer puts it.  

This piece gives a visual representation of that concept.

The way the glass changes the line of the architecture, affecting how we see that straight line.  The color changes light affecting our perception of the water, and the view.  This is a perfect example of how our background and or the way we think changes how we see the physical and emotional world around us.  I need to remember this when trying to deal with other people, and trying to understand why they don't see things the way I see them. 

Amen to that. 

PS. This amazing museum was built by the Walton family--the folks behind Walmart. It is free to the public and so worth the trip! What a beautiful and generous use of wealth! Really makes me want to support my local Walmart store next time I need something. 

More Turtle Travel

from Lexi Eddings...

The camper weathered the recent flood unscathed!

Our neighbors weren't happy about us having it parked by our garage (even though it could not be seen from their property!) so, in the interest of peace, we rented a fenced, off site spot to park it. At the time, I stewed about the injustice of it. I loved having the camper close by so I could store a few things in it and use the fridge as an extra place to keep colas and bottled water.  But as it turned out, it was a blessing that the camper was someplace higher and drier when the flood waters came.

Which just goes to show that "all things do work together for good," even when we're sometimes sure they don't.  I'm feeling very blessed and very grateful.

So now we're planning our next little ziptrip! Next week, we're heading for Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. It's the museum Walmart built near Bentonville, Arkansas. From the website, it looks like it's surrounded by a lovely forest and the Ozark hills. (The locals call them mountains, but I've lived near the Rockies, the Big Horns, the Wasatch and the Cascades. The bumps around here are hills.) We're looking forward to a quick getaway in our tiny house.

With any luck, I'll have typed THE END on my current Work-In-Progress by then and this can be a real vaca. I promise lots of pics!

Turtle Travel Tales

from Lexi Eddings….

“Wherever you go, there you are!”~Not sure who said it first. Some sources nod to Confucius, but my money’s on Yogi Berra

I’m following a few travel blogs right now written by people who are on board world cruises. Some of the blogs are filled with wonderful photographs and vibrant descriptions of exotic ports of call. Others are more introspective and concentrate on how their travel experiences have made them feel. One couple I follow hurries off the ship in each port only to walk about in search of pizza and beer. I kid you not! Whether they’re in Aquaba or Aukland, it’s always pizza and beer. 

It reminds me of the time years ago when my in-laws went on a tour of Europe.

“Oh!” I gushed. “How wonderful! You’ll see cathedrals and castles and museums galore!”

Turns out, they’d booked a farm tour. They traveled by motor coach through half a dozen countries, visiting family farms all along the way. My DH’s parents were Iowa farmers and they were fascinated to watch European agriculture at work!   

So, I’m coming to the conclusion that travel is more often a reflection of who we are than a way to experience the world in different way.

Take me, for example.

The DH and I are camping in Springfield, MO this weekend. If you’re picturing s’mores round the campfire, you’re sadly mistaken. We “glamp.” Glamor camp. Our little 24 ft trailer has a fully functional kitchen, a 3/4 bath, a queen sized bed, and once we get hooked up to electricity at the KOA, our AC or heater is keeping us comfy. We can watch TV or connect to the campground wifi. 

Roughing it we are not.  

But I am trying a few things that I rarely do at home. If you follow me at all, you know that I am the Anti-Shopper. Whip me, beat me, don’t make me shop. So this morning, the DH & I went shopping.

Well, actually, we went buying. You see, we already knew what we wanted to get before we set out and we knew where we needed to go to get them. My mother and sisters’ definition of shopping is wandering around from store to store in search of some nameless something. “I’m not sure what I want, but I’ll know when I see it” is their battle cry.

Kill me now.

So I guess I didn’t really try anything different today. I always ninja shop. Target. Acquire. Extract. Get in. Get out. No muss, no fuss. 

And, as an old music major, I’m really running true to form this evening. The DH & I have tickets to the symphony tonight. That’s right. We camp for culture.


“No matter where you go, there you are.” Guess Confucius was right. Or maybe it was Yogi Berra. 

~~~

Lexi will be sharing more of her travels as she & her DH camp this summer. She calls it Turtle Travel because they carry their little home with them! If you'd like to follow her adventures--and she promises to have some eventually!--be sure to sign up to follow her blog by email! Thanks!

Adding Another Item to the Bucket List...

I've lived in some pretty spectacular places. In 2002, our home was perched on the side of a mountain near Park City, UT when the Olympics came to town. We've lived in bustling downtown Seattle, arguably the most caffeinated city in the world, not to mention funky, trendy and always filled with people worth watching.  For a while we called a log house in the shadow of the Big Horns of Wyoming home. Most recently, we spent seven years in New England--site of the most glorious autumns on the planet.

When we moved to the Ozarks in 2014, in some ways it felt like a retreat from the world. (Given what's happening in the world in general and our politics in particular, maybe that isn't such a bad thing!) But I figured once we settled into this sleepy little backwater, we were done with beautiful views and adventures.

I was wrong.

Welcome to the North Fork of the White River. It's only a few miles from my house. While it looks lazy enough in this picture, there are a number of stretches of rapids along this twisting waterway. Kayakers have to be careful around a few small falls.

The river is absolutely pristine. Since it's spring-fed, the water is cold, even on the hottest summer days. You can see straight to the bottom of its rocky bed. Trout leap in the shallows and birdsong fills the air.

Sometimes the river banks rise in rocky cliffs.

This one towers about 30 feet above the water's surface.

My DH went kayaking on the river with a buddy recently and wanted to share some of what he'd seen with me. So we drove to a few spots along the river where we could walk down to access points. But there's so much you can't see unless you're on the water.

You see, I didn't kayak with him because I'm on supplemental oxygen for a lung condition and my concentrator doesn't respond well to getting wet. But just the little I've seen of the White River makes me want to find a work-around. If I can figure out something, I hope to splash into that cold water next spring.

Anybody know of O2 equipment that doesn't mind getting wet?

Where Do Hawaiians Vacation?

Austin, Minnesota, of course!

Nope, I'm not kidding. Austin is home to the Spam Museum and anyone who's visited the islands knows that Hawaiians love their Spam!

This love affair began during WWII when our servicemen introduced the product to the island. It was a nice break from poi. (Frankly, what isn't?) Islanders found that Spam was deliciously salty, didn't require refrigeration and lasted...well, forever! (As proof of this, we saw a canned ham in the museum that was dated 1927!)

Since I had to report to Mayo Clinic in MN for periodic tests regarding my lung issues (more about that at Second Wind!) the DH & I recently dropped by the Spam Museum. I had no idea there were so many different varieties and so many ways to fix this product.

Here's a recipe I emailed to myself from the Kitchen Kiosk in the museum:

SPAM®-Chiladas 

Tortillas dressed with garlic, cheese, peppers, onions, rice, black beans, and SPAM® Jalapeño.

Total Time: 30 minutes Makes: 8 servings

Ingredients:
1 12-ounce can SPAM® Jalapeño, grated
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 green bell pepper, diced
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 (15-ounce) can black beans, drained and rinsed
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
2 cups cooked white rice
2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
1 (28-ounce) can La Victoria® Red Enchilada Sauce
8 (8-inch) corn or flour tortillas

Directions
1. Heat oven to 350°F.
2. In large skillet, heat oil on medium-high. Cook onion, garlic and pepper for 5 minutes or until onion is softened. Add SPAM® Jalapeño and fry for 5 minutes or until SPAM® Jalapeño is browned. Set aside about 1/4 cup of the SPAM® Jalapeño mixture for garnish.
3. Add black beans, rice, cilantro and 1 cup of the cheese. Stir until well combined.
4. Spoon 1/4 of enchilada sauce over the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish. Heat tortillas and coat with enchilada sauce. Spoon SPAM® Jalapeño mixture on to each tortilla. Roll up to enclose filling. Place in dish and pour remaining enchilada sauce over tortillas.
5. Top with the remaining shredded cheese. Cover with foil and bake 40-45 minutes or until warmed through. Serve with guacamole if desired. Sprinkle reserved fried SPAM® Jalapeño over enchiladas.

I fixed these for my family's Fourth of July get-together as a break from hamburgers and hot dogs. They went over big time!

On the Road Again...

The DH and I have embarked on another adventure. For Father's Day, he got a camper trailer. Best Father's Day Present Ever, right?

But he didn't want it for selfish reasons. He was thinking about me. (For more about that, check my Second Wind blog! I've posted the floorplan of our new "tiny house" there.)

I've always been a proponent of "ziptrips"--quick visits to nearby locales you might ordinarily overlook. So once we got all hooked up, we took our new rig on a "shake-down cruise," driving about a hundred miles to camp out for a couple of days and see a few sights.

Along with relaxing, reading & lounging by the campground pool, we toured Fantastic Caverns. This is not for hard core spelunkers. It's as tame a cave as I could wish. We enjoyed a well lit, guided tour that actually let us ride through in a jeep on an ancient dry riverbed.

But that doesn't mean it isn't fascinating.

The cave was discovered by a farmer's hunting dog who chased small game down a large hole. The existence of the cave was a closely guarded secret through the Civil War because its owner realized it would be a huge source of bat guano (a key ingredient in salt peter, which was used to make gun powder.) He didn't want it to be confiscated by either side of the conflict. He also didn't feel up to the challenge of exploring the cave either.

So after the war ended, he put an advertisement in the paper asking for someone to survey and map the cave. The only ones intrepid enough to tackle it was a group of 12 WOMEN! As you can see from the picture, their names are carved on one of the limestone walls.

Call me a fraidy-cat, but I can't imagine poking around in a cave using only a kerosene lamp--especially since the explorers had no idea that there were two massive sinkholes in the cave, one 20 feet deep and other 50! In addition to bats, there are pools in the cavern that are home to species of blind fish and salamanders.

During prohibition, the cave was used as a speakeasy and Buck Rogers, a country western singer from the old Hee-Haw show, along with a number of groups that now perform in Branson, have given concerts in the big cavern. Of course, as amplifiers became more powerful, concerts were suspended to preserve the delicate formations in the cave. Now in addition to tours like the one we went on, this family-owned business offers educational programs to schools as well.

Our Coachman camper was perfect for this little getaway and we look forward to more adventures this summer and fall!

Do you camp? Where is your favorite "ziptrip" spot?

Control Freaks Rule!

Ok, I'll admit it. I used to be a control freak. If I was traveling with a group, I wanted to drive. If my kids didn't lay the tableware correctly, I'd come behind them and rearrange the knives, spoons and forks. As I've grown older, I've mellowed a bit, but there are a few things where my "Control Issues" are still helpful.

One is in maintaining a clean, healthy environment now that the meds I take to keep my NSIP at bay have weakened my immune system.  It's easy when I'm at home. We have no carpet in our house, so regular swiffering keeps dust down. Since I'm a minimalist at heart, keeping the clutter at bay is not a problem. At home, I can control the quality and quantity of food I eat. My water is filtered and no matter how muggy it gets outside, the AC keeps the air inside from becoming too "chewy" for me to comfortably breathe.

No problem, right?

Not until I want to travel, which is something I've always loved. In high school, my English teacher had us write a letter to our older selves to remind us of what we felt was important for our lives. I wanted to see the world.

I still do.  

But on our recent cruise to the South Pacific, I picked up a respiratory bug that had me coughing and cacking for over a month. The ship was scrupulously clean, but whenever you have that many people in an enclosed environment, you have potential for infection. So even though we are hoping to do a Norwegian cruise next year, my Dear Husband decided we needed to change how we travel when our feet are dry.

Instead of hopping from one hotel to another, we decided to buy a Coachman Freedom Express by Forest River--a green RV company that uses products that don't "out-gas." Formaldehyde found in many RVs is a problem for people with respiratory issues like me.

There's no carpeting in our "tiny house" so it's a snap to keep clean. I can sleep on my own bed, on sheets that have been laundered in scent free detergent, and use my own clean bathroom along the way. We'll pack up the tiny kitchen with the foods we're used to and fill the tanks with our own filtered water.

Our little RV is my ticket to keep rolling as long as I can.

When I was first diagnosed with NSIP, I realized the disease was something completely out of my control--a sobering thought for a control freak. My attitude toward what was happening was all I could call mine. Since I can't be in control, I decided then to consciously choose gratitude as my default position. I am so thankful for the people in my life, for the prayers of my family and friends, and for all the technologies and meds available to help me live as normally as possible.

And I'm also thankful that my world is not shrinking. I'm not done having adventures.

Our first big trip is up to Mayo Clinic in Rochester. I'm having my regular breathing tests, plus a high altitude evaluation to make sure I can stand an international flight for our Norway trip. On a domestic flight, the cabin pressure is like being at 8000 ft. On a flight overseas, the pressure heads up to 10,000. I hope Herkimer (my beloved portable oxygen concentrator) is up to the challenge.

If I can get an internet connection while we camp, I'll post updates on the road!

Wanderlust Wrap-up!

Now that I'm home and have finally whittled the mountain of laundry down to a manageable molehill, I thought I'd go back through our pictures and share two islands I didn't get posted while I was on the ship.

First up, the pearl of the Pacific--Tahiti!

Captain Van Eerten juggled our schedule around so that we went to Tahiti before Mo'orea. It was an absolute necessity because the ship had to take on more fuel and supplies. I suppose this was because there was a typhoon swirling over Fiji and we might have had to skip Mo'orea and make a run for San Diego. But the storm only swatted us with its outer arms.

Tahiti is the largest island in the French Polynesian chain with the highest peak. This gorgeous place is home to most of the inhabitants, almost 200,000 of them. The interior of the island still pretty inaccessible. People live in the capital city of Pape'ete and along the single road hugging the reef-sheltered coasts.

We took a bus tour along that route and stopped at a beautiful botanical garden. It was drizzling for most of our jaunt through the rain forest, which made it difficult for my DH. He was wearing my portable oxygen concentrator on his back. It was both heavy and hot, but he didn't complain.

God bless the man!




The flowers were gorgeous, though I can't tell you their names, and small crabs scuttled across the path as we pushed through the greenery. It felt and smelled very primeval.

We visited the Museum of Tahiti and learned about the volcanic birth of the islands and how their reefs were formed. Polynesian culture is fascinating and I'm still in awe of the courage it took to head out in double hull canoes with only the navigational skill of their Wayfinder to guide them. These ancient wayfarers used the stars, weather patterns, sea birds, and changes in water color and direction to point them toward land.

Much was said about the time French Impressionist Paul Gaugin spent in Tahiti. None of his canvases remain on the island, but I can certainly see why he found the place inspiring.

A mere 12 mile ferry ride away lies the enchanting island of Mo'orea. The movie The Bounty (with Mel Gibson & Anthony Hopkins) was set on these shores, When I stepped out onto our veranda shortly after the Westerdam dropped anchor, the sheer beauty of the place made the back of my throat ache. I was so grateful to be there, to see that grandeur, to breathe in that moist green air. It made me weep. Even in drizzly weather, it is truly the most beautiful island I've ever seen. 

We took a "round the island" tour with a strange little bus driver named Albert. He told us he had 3 wives, 12 children and more grandkids than he could remember. The highlight of the trip was this lookout point about 3000 ft up the mountains looking down on the twin bays. You can barely make out the Westerdam at anchor in the mist.(It's that rectangular object in the water.)

At the end of the 30 days, we weren't tired of the ship, but we were missing our family, our pets and our own bed! It was a wonderful experience and we feel so blessed to have been able to celebrate our 40th anniversary in this way.

But, we're not the sort to rest on our travel laurels. We've already booked a cruise to Norway for 2017!

Shared Experiences make Fast Friends

We were assigned to a dining table for evening meals at the beginning of our cruise. This is always a crap shoot. Sometimes you get compatible and interesting table mates, like the time we were seated with a pair of WWII vets. Sometimes you get people who try to coerce you into their interests, like the fellow who was obsessed with something called "pickle ball" and wouldn't rest until the DH met him on the sports deck for a game.

This time we were fortunate to be placed with Bruce and Judy from California. 

Between the four of us, we've solved the world's problems over dinner several times and often linger over our desert for the joy of continuing our pleasant conversations. So we decided to meet on Nuku Hiva, our last port of call, for a walk-about together.  

I was a little leery about this island because of its head-hunting past and not-so-distant incidence of possible cannibalism. (In 2011, a German tourist went missing and was later found dead under very mysterious circumstances.) But I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped off the tender. The islanders were friendly and the town of Taiohae clean and well-kept.

Still, we kept within sight of the Westerdam...

But this was mostly because it was so very hot and humid that walking too far in those conditions was difficult for me. My portable oxygen concentrator has to work overtime to provide the support I need when there's so much moisture in the air. But we managed to make it far enough down the beach to find a monument to French sailors who died in a battle in those waters in the early 1800's. They must have felt like they'd come to the end of the world. I know I feel a fresh appreciation for the monumental size of the Pacific and I have the benefit of a state of the art cruise ship under my feet instead of a 19th century tall ship.

And since I started this post talking about dinner companions, I'll end it with a pic of one of the unique entrees I've enjoyed on the cruise. This is Nasi Goreng, an Indonesian dish. It's pork satay, spicy chicken and beef Sumatra on a bed of fried rice. It's garnished with scallions, red onion, cucumbers and a julienne omelet. The thing that looks like a fried pig's ear is actually a prawn cracker. Yum!

If you haven't already, let me invite you to sign up for my newsletter. Once I get home, my newsletter readers will be receiving a number of recipes I've collected from the Cuisinary Arts Center on board. I'll also be sharing more pictures from our trip once I'm back on our home wifi. 

It takes F-O-R-E-V-E-R for photos to download here on the ship. 

Thanks for coming along with me on the voyage! 

Sacred Spaces

As long as humans have lived on this planet, we've looked up into the night sky and longed to talk to the One who made the stars. Like Jacob, who set up a stone after he dreamed a ladder reaching to heaven, we tend to mark certain places that have given us sense of special connection.

Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd share a few pics of this sort of place from our very soggy shore excursions. We'll be island hopping a bit.

This first picture is of St. Benedict's from the Big Island of Hawai'i. The church structure was built around 1899 and then a Belgian missionary priest painted the interior scenes (with house paint of all things!) There are idyllic scenes of creation and, in stark contrast, a truly nightmarish depiction of hell on the opposite section of the walls. All the painting has been recently touched up, except for the view of the underworld. Evidently, its purpose is fulfilled without additional embellishment.

The church is still in use by an active congregation. There is a a sweet stillness about it and the green gardens around it add to the peacefulness of the place.

Also near Kona, there is a special place of refuge called Pu'uhonua o Honaunau. If someone broke a kapu, such as letting your shadow fall on the chief's land, there was no trial. The ancient Hawaiians had no prisons. The punishment for any infraction was death.

Unless...

If you could reach a pu'uhonau, you could be forgiven and after 3 days released without further punishment. Of course, this particular pu'uhonau was bounded on all landward sides by the chief's land, so there was no walking to it. An offender must take his chances in the shark infested surf in order to escape his death sentence.

When Christian missionaries came, most of the places of refuge were torn down, but this one survived fairly intact. Several members of the Hawaiian royal family are buried there.

The site was dedicated to life so human sacrifice was not performed on the grounds.

The same cannot be said for other marae. We saw these volcanic rock open air temples on nearly every island we visited, but the one on Tahiti, the main island of French Polynesia, was the largest and most complex.

This marae was guarded by large male and female tiki figures. The statues are not worshipped as gods, but are thought to hold mana (power) during the rituals. The ancient Tahitians had many gods and the rites performed here were to placate them and urge them to aid the people in some special undertaking--a war with a neighboring tribe or a migration to a new island. Only men were allowed inside the marae, but lest we ladies feel put upon about that, remember that the person chosen for sacrifice was picked from those inside the stone walls.

Clearly, this was not a time to be on the outs with the priests!

Now most Polynesians are Christian, about 80% Protestant and 20% Catholic. We were delighted to hear the same table prayer we use sung in Hawaiian. While we're loving this trip and totally enjoying the ship, I have to admit I miss my church. But God, a personal, eternal, omnipotent God, is here in the middle of the Pacific. And however imperfectly we understand Him, however inadequate our worship, He's already reached down to us.

He's just waiting for us to reach up.

Something Cancelled, Something Gained!

This morning we learned that our Glass Bottom Boat excursion on Bora Bora was cancelled due to bad weather (read: occasional torrential downpours!) and poor visibility. However, refused to let a little thing like that get us down. Who knows when or if we'll ever see this island again? As long as the ship's tenders was running, we were bound and determined to have an adventure!

On shore, we found a nice young man named Bruce who offered us a circle of the island tour in his air conditioned Land Rover. He was born on Vanau (the real name of the island of Bora Bora.) His father is an American who came here to run one of the fabulous resorts, and ended up marrying a Tahitian woman. Bruce speaks English, French, Spanish, and Tahitian. He's married and has two beautiful kids.

We learned that formal education ends at age 16 here in the islands and there is no university on Bora Bora. Many people used to work in the tourism industry, but since 9/11, the number of visitors has dropped considerably. There are easily a half dozen resorts standing empty and employing only enough groundskeepers to keep the vegetation from taking over the buildings.

Bruce says that other than needing to pay for water (which is provided through the French government through an expensive desalinization plant) and electricity (also through the government) many people have few bills. The government provides health care, including medications. The residents grow their own fruit and vegetables. They raise chickens and hogs. They fish in the abundant waters around the island. And (I'm sorry to have to tell you) they also enjoy eating wild dog. (We saw dozens of these miserable creatures slinking around the island.) But this is the culture and I can only thank God I've never been hungry enough to eat dog.

The island is spectacular, lush and heavily overgrown. Multiple waterfalls cascade down the steep mountainsides. The lovely, calm interior bay is actually an ancient caldera, the remains of the volcano that gave birth to the island.

During WWII, the US military had a strong presence in French Polynesia. There are still man-made caves that housed cannon to defend the harbor. And in what seems to us today an astonishing disregard for the environment, the harbor was made easier for destroyers to enter by blowing up part of the reef.  Of course, it also made it easier for our cruise ship to visit too.

As wonderful as the scenery is, the people are even more lovely. We stopped at one road-side shop operated by a family. They offered us samples of fresh coconut, breadfruit and grapefruit. I passed on the grapefruit, but the breadfruit was amazing--like nothing I've ever tasted before. A truly unusual texture as well.

Here's the DH taking a sip of extremely fresh coconut milk. The natives use every bit of the plant, from fiber to weave into necklaces and use as tinder to fermenting the shells into coconut oil for use in skin treatments. We also watched the natives use flowers and other plants to create dyes for the sarongs the island women wear.

We also visited Bloody Mary's Bar (think Rogers & Hammerstein's South Pacific!) and walked along a stretch of golden sand, letting the warm waters of the ocean caress our calves. The tour was so much better, so much richer an experience than riding in a Glass Bottom Boat.

Today reminded me that it's foolish to be upset if your plans have to change. Life is filled with moments when things don't go our way.

But it doesn't have to mean things can't be even better than we'd planned.

Taking in the local culture...

Last night we tied up to the pier on Raiatea and for the first time in over 10 days, slept without the pitch and roll of our "water bed." This morning we wakened to a veritable anvil chorus of roosters--each of them trying to out-scream each other. Evidently, the birds roam freely, like on Kauai.

After breakfast in our cabin, we hurried off the ship to see what we could. Because of the rain and worsening conditions, ALL the Holland America excursions were cancelled. But that didn't stop the Raiateans from giving us a very warm welcome just a few blocks away from the ship. Part of the charm of travel is seeing how other people live, how they celebrate what makes them unique. Here's just a taste of what we experienced:

We were so glad we braved the rain! 

Welcome to the Westerdam

Well, we've been at sea since . . . oh, Monday, I think. The days are starting to run together and weeks seem kind of fluid when you cross the international dateline, lose a day and then regain it, ending up with TWO Fridays. The crew is kind enough to remind us what day it is by changing the carpet in the elevators, but which Friday we were on was anyone's guess!

Anyway, I thought I'd give you a tour of our floating resort, the Holland America Westerdam. I love the ship. It always seems as much a destination as any of the ports of call. Like a small town on the waves, it has everything you might want. For example, there's a library in case you've left your e-reader behind. There's even an on board book club.

For people who like to gamble, there's a casino. I usually avoid it when I can because it's the one place on the ship where smoking is allowed. Since I'm on supplemental O2, cigarette smoke is not recommended. But, if you enjoy slots or blackjack, you can lose money any time we're not in port.

I adore art, so the gallery is a favorite haunt of mine. There are several auctions scheduled for various times during the cruise. So far, I've resisted raising my bidding number, but the cruise isn't over yet. There's another one scheduled for this afternoon, so we'll see if I can keep from adding to my collection. I'm afraid to pick a bright hues for my walls or furniture, but my artwork serves as wild splashes of color in my home. The signed print shown here is a Chagall--far more expensive than anything I'd try for, but it's fun to see up close and personal and imagine that if only I were willing to sell a kidney, it could be mine!

The chefs on board are gracious enough to do culinary demonstrations almost every day. And they share their recipes too! In case you missed it, I posted a Sweet & Spicy Pork recipe earlier, and plan to share a great one for Shrimp Kabobs on my newsletter once I get home again. (Hint! This is your cue to sign up for my newsletter in the form to the right!)

Those of you who know me, know that I am the Anti-Shopper, but the ship makes picking up nice things for family and friends easy. There's a clothing shop, and a very spendy jewelry shop that we have to walk through each time we make our way to the Vista Dining Room. They change out the stock as often as most folks change their socks, so if you see something you want, you need to nab it.

Of course, the ship has a big pool and hot tubs on the Lido Deck. But the DH and I have made the spa and Thermal Suite our home away from home. This is a private section of the ship with a large whirlpool and heated stone lounges. We nap on them almost every day.

Then there are the card clubs, trivia games, lectures and classes available. Speaking of which...our native guide Kainoa is about to give a talk on Papeete, Tahiti and it pays to arrive in the theater early if you want a good seat.

More to come...

Fanning Island, Almost...

After leaving Hawai'i, we turned our noses south and cruised for two days, before we finally fetched up alongside Fanning Island early this morning.

It's real name is Tabuaeran and it's part of the very small country of Kiribati (pronounced "Kee-ree-bahs"). The island is a thin cusp of land around the edge of an atoll (read: extinct, eroded volcano), with a fifty foot deep lagoon in the middle. It roughly forms the shape of a footprint, which is what Tabuaeran means in Gilbertese, the language spoken by the 2000 souls who live there. The highest point on Tabuaeran is only 12 ft. above sea level, which makes it one of the most vulnerable places for human habitation in the whole wide world.

There is no electricity. No public water works. People rely on rain catchment systems. 95% of the folks who live there have never worn shoes, even though walking is the main way of getting from point A to point B. We were told to expect to see grass huts. People farm kelp and fashion handmade crafts to earn an average wage of $10 a month. The grocery store is a simple building. No one goes into it. They simply meet the grocer at the dutch door and tell him what staples they need. He takes the spam or other canned goods from the shelves and hands them over the half door. The island receives supplies by ship four times a year.

As a result, there are no services on the island for visitors. If we want something to eat or drink, we must bring it from the ship. We can't take what little the residents have, even if we can pay handsomely for it. What good is our money to them if they run out of supplies before the next ship comes?

Holland America brings extras to the island--building materials, school books & supplies, medicines, clothing, toiletries, and dry goods. And with the influx of tourists who will snap up shell necklaces and distribute goodies, the day when the cruise ship comes turns into something of festival with singing and dancing and fun in the sun.

But this morning when the Westerdam arrived, the sky was lowering. Rain came down in buckets and a squall broke over the island, blasting us with 40 knot winds. The visibility dropped to zero. Tabuaeran is a tender port, which means there's no pier for our ship to tie up on. We'd have to board the small tender boats and ride the waves in, pitching and rolling. Instead, our captain ordered the anchor raised and we pulled away without setting a toe on the atoll. He came over the loud speaker and apologized for cancelling the port of call, but the safety of the passengers and his crew is his first priority.

There was a good bit of belly-aching around the ship, but I appreciated the captain for making that choice. Seeing people living as Hawaiians did 300 years ago would have been fascinating, but it's not worth life and limb. Besides, the fact that we sailed away without stopping is much worse for the islanders, who were expecting a windfall, than for us, who were hoping for a National Geographic moment.

And anyway, the DH and I had already decided we weren't going ashore. If you'd like to know why, check out my Second Wind blog.

When you don't say "I do"...

We all know the magic words that clinch the marriage vows. It's those lovely two syllables--"I do." (Of course, my dad always warned that you should be very sure before you say "I do," because you surely will!)

But I learned that not all wedding ceremonies are the same. In fact, the right word to seal the deal in a Polynesian wedding is "no!" Let me explain.

In the Tahiti village at the Polynesian Cultural Center, my DH and I got to attend a traditional Tahitian wedding. First, this lovely couple performed a beautiful stylized courtship dance.

Then the bride's mother chased the groom away with a broom! After that, the priest called the wedding party to enter the sacred space. Those shiny circles on his headdress and pectoral are abalone shells with the mother of pearl side out to reflect light.

Instead of asking "Do you take this woman/man to be your wedded wife/husband?" a Tahitian priest asks "Will you ever leave your husband/wife?" And the newly weds answer, "No." After the vows, the couple is wrapped in a single colorful blanket to symbolize that they two are now one.

As they went through the ceremony, all the married observers were invited to renew their vows. So the DH and I promised each other a happy, tearful "no" along with the newlyweds. Since we're celebrating our upcoming 40th anniversary, it was a precious moment indeed.