Lots of Words in English..........

Now that we have been here almost three weeks, it feels like time for a mission update.

We love it!!!  Beautiful place, beautiful people, fantastic strawberries, melons, tomatoes, avocados….. Our little home is just that. It feels like home. We eat well. We sleep well. We have FaceTime to see the kids and grandkids at home. Every day is a good one.

We teach at the Learning Center, in the field and/or in homes Monday through Saturday. We have some regular scheduled home lessons and are finding addresses (directiones) rather un-straightforward, but have had some miracles in this regard. Also some total misses. We teach on Saturdays at the church building. At the farm's Learning Center, we have a number of computers with language programs loaded on them in addition to the Church's Daily Dose lessons and things we concoct. I brought some little plastic animals, which have provided a great starting-place with the children--and even the adults. One cow. Two cows. Brown cow. This is a cow. These are cows. How many white animals? It’s fun.

We have had some real "missionary" opportunities--as different from our teaching roles. We were asked by the Elders (there are 4 sets in our Branch!) to pick up some investigators and we are enjoying taking them to church. We also took a couple of the young returned missionary/farm manager trainees to a restaurant last week and the proprietor recognized our name badges and told us that he was a member of the Church who had recently moved here from the southern part of Chile but had not made contact with the Church. He was excited about the chance to get his kids to our English classes. We were expecting him on Thursday but so far he hasn’t shown up. (I think this calls for another dinner at his restaurant, don’t you?!) We teach a family on Saturday nights with their 4 children. They are members but not active. The mother cleans here at the Fundo and brings her kids for additional English lessons. We love them already. One young man is particularly eager to learn English—15 years old and bright and personable.  *** Late breaking news: they were at Church yesterday!!*** Could singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" at our lesson Saturday night have inspired them to attend?!

Our biggest miracle was when we were trying to meet up with this same family for the first time. We had a loose arrangement to go to their house on Saturday afternoon and to call first, but they didn’t answer the phone, so we decided to head to Melipilla for the appointment at the church. We knew they lived somewhere along that 34 km between here and there. At a wide spot in the road, Jay said, “I think we should call again,” and pulled the car over. The woman answered immediately and said she could see us. "Are you in a red Explorer?" Their home was just five minutes away! 

We are dazzled by the farm here. Every day there is great progress on getting the ground ready for planting the areas where they don't have trees yet. We love watching the different stages—turning over the earth, surveying, lining up stakes, laying out the irrigation hoses acre after acre. It is incredible the scope of this project. It is neat seeing the trees at different stages and then watching new areas being planted, the trees staked, plastic sleeves around the bottom of the trees, then the young trees tied to guide-wires—all requiring intensive man-hours. Someone here  is even working to invent and build an olive tree planting machine! Incredible. Eventually, they will have an olive oil processing plant right here on the farm. We are impressed by the way the company takes care of its employees—big pump bottles of sunblock, plenty of water and a nice shady pavilion for lunch for the workers plus a steam table arrangement and refrigerator for their lunches, big crates of fresh bread at lunch and rides to an from various places where they live or where they can get public transportation. Young college students and university graduates are given every opportunity to learn English, get further training and advance in the company. Quite a few have homes provided right on the property.

Wow. I had no idea I had so much to say. Maybe it’s because I’m almost mute in Spanish ; )

Every blog needs a picture, so now you get to see a totally different agricultural product. Tuna. No, not aceituna (olives), no, not the fish, tuna. Tuna. aka: prickly pear. Can you imagine harvesting this field? It is massive, with gigantic prickly pear plants packed tightly together in rows. Yikes! We understand that they do the picking in the morning with tough leather gloves when the spikes are not as long, put the fruit in gunny-sacks where they roll around and get de-prickled a bit, and after that, I don't know what. But I'll tell you when I learn more.

Tranquilo

Joanne Woodward once described knitting as a "functional meditation." It is that, as well as the vehicle for my gaining the patience that I am claiming after leaving the USA 12 days ago. Waiting for three hours to teach people who just don't show up? No worries, I've got my knitting. Waiting at the airport, in line at the International Police, or the Civil Registry (as I am here in this picture. What we thought would take 15 minutes took 2 hours, right here. On this bench. We also got 7 parking tickets while we were there ; ). We couldn't imagine why they were pounding on our car window as we backed out after having a celebratory completo once we had the required papers in hand), or Immigration, being in the back seat or the passenger seat as we drive to Melipilla multiple times or to Santiago-- life is good, I've got nowhere else to go and I've got my knitting. When the cold weather hits in June, I'll be ready with a pair or two of wooly handmade socks and a new-found hint of "tranquilo."

It's hardly my nature. One year when I went to Teton Science School with a small group of outdoorsy and like-minded teachers for a weekend workshop, there was a discussion and recap of the course, as we sat in the mandatory share-your-thoughts circle. When it was my turn I said that I'd busted my buns to get there, preparing myself to be ready to leave right after school, planning lessons for my class of fourth-graders for the next week, taking care of my family at home-- and now that we were there I was somewhat frustrated that there was so much unstructured time. "I know you are," Steve Archibald, the environmental guru of all time in my mind, said, "that's why you're here. You need to learn to be." I'm not sure that knitting qualifies as just "being," but I'm getting closer.

I do really like the calmer, less intense pace that I feel here. We have appointments that may or may not pan out, but life goes on, time passes, I get an inch more of my sock done, and if I for some reason have to stand someone up when they are expecting me, I won't have an ulcer worrying that they are upset. they are old hands at being "tranquilo," and I love them for it.

Ciao for now.

Chile, at Last!

By request (Send pictures!)

The back of our casa looking east with some of the millions of olive trees in the foreground the day we arrived. There are familiar-looking hills surrounding us, and the farm is huge beyond belief.

Seeing our house for the first time--why so interested in the ground, I guess I am earthbound!?

 Paul, famous for cinnamon rolls, fire-bird turkey and other delights, created this apple pie 

for our last family Sunday dinner together. Isn't he clever?

 Here's the project that kept me grounded in the last hurried week before we left: a blessing dress for baby girl Stevenson: finished and mailed from the hotel right before boarding the plane. Whew!

Still in our traveling clothes after 20 hours, we couldn't resist a long walk through some of the farmland before calling it a day. These trees will become tall hedges with olives for mechanical picking in just a few years. You can see the different heights of trees in these pictures, and the drip irrigation system that puts the right amount of water in the right places.

These are some of the company's office and field workers in a field of newly planted trees. The South American AgReserves officials are moving their headquarters to this farm and we joined them on a tour yesterday. It is interesting the way they teach and train as they describe the operation and their vision for it. We are very impressed by the care that is shown for the workers--in fact, our purpose is to elevate lives by improving their literacy; but in addition there are countless little things: pump bottles of sunscreen and the expectation that they be used, baskets of rolls and bread for anyone to take for lunch, a quick lesson in the field about saving money while they are young so it can grow, explaining exactly why the branches are to be pruned above a certain level, or done by hand rather than machine, etc. There is the expectation that the North American managers will be replaced by some of these very young men and women.

Below are pictures of the Learning Center, where we will begin teaching English on Monday to the farm employees on their lunch break and other times.  In the past two days we have updated computers and set up Rosetta Stone for five users, organized books and labeled the new ones, created and put up a calendar and other posters. Kind of reminds me of my first teaching job after the 20 year maternity break! Very exciting, scary, intimidating.... Hope we can do this!

Impassioned Irritation

My sister Gay once described one of our family traits as "impassioned irritation," a description we are not ashamed of but unanimously own. Grandma Hattie is the one we blame. She could go off on any number of topics, was proud of her "heritage of high intelligence," and had opinions ranging from world and national politics to onions and licorice (abominations, both--or should I say all four?--). Grandma wasn't narrow-minded. She was just opinionated, and probably got more so as she got older.

I remember being embarrassed one time when she was visiting us in the Philippines. We were standing in line for something or other and a fellow near us asked if anyone minded if he smoked. "I should say so!" Grandma spoke up. "I am highly allergic to cigarettes!" This was news to me, and at that time smokers generally had the upper hand, never expecting their habit to be objectionable to anyone. She was actually far ahead of her time, but I rather think she enjoyed saying, "Not near me, buster!"

Some sources of my own impassioned irritation:

• Air travel. The security personnel who, despite being told I have an artificial hip insist on giving me the entire pat-down with metal detector wand and exclaiming, "There's something there!!" as they scan my right hip. Yeah, I told you already. Do you think I placed a gun inside my undies, or what? The extreme amount of time wasted going through the conveyor belt lines, the tiny seats, the inadequate carry-on luggage compartments, the inability to assume any position but straight and upright, the way they pour your soda into a cup and keep the rest of the liquid in the can and don't give it to you... It's just a horrible way to travel. I would love to see the world but only if I could do it as a road trip. 
• The Utah Legislature. C'mon, folks! Can we elect anyone who is not a real-estate developer or of their ilk? Do ya' think they are going to do anything that curtails their own profits? Is it even possible for them to consider that more money for education would translate in more people buying their homes and storefronts and shopping malls--not to mention, of course, the real point of education--? Every January that rolls around makes educators cringe because the Utah senators and representatives with some notable exceptions begin their teacher and administrator bashing. Good old Howard Stephenson always has a boatload (I believe they are actually railroad cars) of bills "helping" teachers do a better job and increasing their workload, lowering their status and maximizing their frustration. He's not the only one. When will the voters come to their senses and elect people who are not just interested in their own special interests? Utah is probably the only state required to include public education in the State Constitution. It would have been horrible for those Mormons out west to have religious schools for the upcoming generation at the time of statehood. Well, now we have a state government intent on destroying public education. How can we keep on letting this happen?
• Walmart. Do I need to expound? All those sweet little mom and pop stores, hardware stores where you could buy 3 screws with no plastic and cardboard packaging, fabric stores with quality stuff, corner groceries like Skanchy's in Logan where you could buy a bag of marshmallows on the way up the canyon--am I dating myself?--five and dimes, shoe stores, book stores, small town department stores......gone. And that's not even mentioning the cut-throat pricing, the awful working conditions, the imports from sweatshops overseas, the acres of land they consume with their huge parking lots and lights and big box presence. Yuk. I pride myself on how few trips to Walmart I have made in the past decade. Maybe eight and I'm embarrassed about all eight of them. Yeah, they are cheap. But we all are paying the price.
• Light pollution. Our cabin is in one of the darkest corners of Utah and the United States. When we go there, I insist on a no night-time light policy. Because I am married to Mr. Technology, this means that we have to cover up the obnoxious light from the computer, the clock, the oven and microwave (all right, I really only cover up the lights in the bedroom), and turn off the security lights outside! At home, the HDMI cable has a blue light. Why? The stereo tuner (I don't even know what these things are called) has a green display. Why? The computer monitor, the various surge protectors. Honestly! I actually recognize the reason: so we will know whether the device is on or not. Isn't there a better way? I love the wilderness, partly because it is dark at night. There is a reason for both daytime and night and I want to honor those differences. I also keep my blinds open at night. When it's light in the morning I want to know it, to see it and to live by it. We are blurring the two--making it light all night and then having to darken our rooms so we shut out the light to sleep. But then I also believe we should abide by the solstices. Sleep when it's dark (longer in the winter) and get up when it's light. But that's a topic for another day.
• Governmental bureaucracy. Only one thing worse than one government is two governments, as we discover, waiting on both Chile and the USA to do their parts to give us a visa. We received a nice cross-stitched mission scripture, with our names and the years 2013-2015 several months ago. It's still accurate. I'm counting this time as "mission time," and trying not to be irritated. 

Happy New Year, everyone, and turn down your lights ; )

Who says, "Ho, ho, ho" anyway?

Now that the holiday season is starting its denouement, dare I complain about a fixture of holiday literature and tradition: the ho ho ho?

Jolly ol' Santa can't be anywhere without that ridiculous verbal tic, and the reformed Scrooge seems like a lunatic with his hearty jolliness, "Fabulous boy, marvelous boy...." as he sends a perfect stranger-- a young boy-- off to buy the biggest goose in town. It's a miracle he wasn't arrested and locked up.

Have you ever heard anyone actually laugh with the words, "Ho, ho, ho?" Squirting milk out of noses, yes. Squeaks and squeals, yes. Snorts, wheezes, even tears streaming down cheeks (sorry, that's me), gasps: all authentic. "Ho, ho, ho," no, no, no. It's fake. Give it up. And it scares the children.

To much jolliness always alerts me to possible depression. (Have you noticed that depressed people can be really good at overacting happiness?) It's my quick diagnosis. Uber-animated? Depression.

I also have a very fast and foolproof way of diagnosing autism. I could make a fortune on this one.
After spending years standing with dozens and dozens of classes of elementary school children getting their pictures taken, and then getting my very own bound booklets of all the class pictures to peruse over the course of a school year, I discovered something I call "The Bell Test." Bell is the name of the school picture company we used. Children with autism almost always do something weird with their faces in school pictures. The other kids happily grin when the photographer says, "Say stinky feet." Not the ones on "the spectrum" who self-consciously stare or cross their eyes or make a face. They flunk the Bell Test. It's uncanny how often this occurs. (Of course you don't want to look at the huge number of horrible candid pictures that have been taken of me! These are school class pictures where the subject knows the camera shutter is about to click I'm talking about.) If you are worried about autism, just check out the particular child's class pictures for several  years. Crazy faces every year? Bingo!

So, there you have it: you can diagnose lunacy, depression and autism without ever having to study the disorders or attend medical school, all by just reading my little blog.

Despite my Santa Rant, Jay plays a wonderful Santa for the grandchildren. The more obvious the fake beard, the better. "Is that Grandpa?" "I know it's you, Grandpa!" It's a good time this way--even if he does "ho, ho, ho" far too much to suit me. It IS Grandpa, and they know it and aren't being forced, crying, to sit on some strange man's lap.

Merry Christmas, and a happy new year lower case (not necessarily all 365 days). I'm allowing you some days that are not so jolly! Don't want anyone thinking you're insane or depressed.

Aaarruugghh!

Not only do we NOT have visas as yet, but we are being asked to resubmit the application, medical approvals from doctors and an updated cover letter signed by the two of us. There is also a requirement that AgReserves write a letter explaining why we are being "invited" on this mission. Sort of hilarious, if you think about it. Tourist visa, anyone? Easy-peasy to get and the only requirement seems to be that we leave the country every three months. Let's see: Argentina, Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador--there's a year's worth, right there.

I'm losing interest. Short attention span, ADHD; I feel depression coming on.

So----break out the Christmas tree and nativities, we'll be home for Christmas fo' sho. White Christmas and all that. I may actually get the knitting done that I want to AND we can probably help Philip and Veronica move to California. May as well get that Mediterranean climate in any way we can.

Is there a lesson here that I'm missing? I mean, other than patience. I flunked that the first million tries. I don't want it.

Phantom Ranch Thanksgiving

Yep, we had Thanksgiving dinner #3 at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. It was awesome!