An Exhaltation of Scotsmen

Mar is in Aberdeenshire on the northeast side of Scotland. Blue face is an option.

They came by the hundreds...men in blue faces, beautiful women with tartan and silk and white cotton dresses. And the skirling of the pipes and whirring drummers, swinging their drumsticks around their heads before bringing them down sharply and in syncopation. Brrrrrrrrr-uppppp!

Ah, it was a wondrous thing to step on the field in Dunedin and be enveloped in the sounds of Scotland.

This was the 48th Highland Games held in this town that has deep Scottish roots.

The kids are decked out in lion rampant flags. The Scottie dogs are wearing the kilt! Madness is all about. Many of the male participants are wearing the kilt. Some, tragically, are wearing tartan skirts. But they are not aware of this faux pas, I think. And a few hundred have taken to wearing the utility kilt, a khaki or black number that, I think , they think - mistakenly -  is more masculine.

Before Jo and I left our motorhome and drove the two miles to the gathering, I debated whether or not to wear my grandfather's kilt which he wore when he fought in World War I. But it is awesomely heavy - the kilt is triple-pleated and it takes 24 feet of material to build it. I thought I would melt in the 80-degree heat. So I wore shorts instead.

After making our way around the park and visiting the tents in the Clan Village (about 45 tents that lured you in to find your roots), we stopped by one of the food vans and I ordered my haggis and chips. Jo went for just fish and chips. Even after all these years, she still has not come around to an appreciation of the beauty that is haggis!

We sat with another couple and exchanged stories with them about our and their travels, since they, too, own a motorhome. I tried to explain a few of the more obscure points regarding the wearing of the kilt. Unless someone has issued a memo on decorum in the past 54 years, women NEVER wore the kilt in Scotland. It would be considered totally inappropriate for a woman to wear such a masculine piece of clothing. She would be encouraged to wear a tartan skirt - which would be pleated all around its circumference.

Alas, that distinction seems not to matter in 2014 in Dunedin!

And don't get me started about putting a dog into a kilt. My lord, what are we coming to. This clearly is a marker for the end of civilization as we know it!

It was a first, for me, to watch strapping women lift a 12-foot-high pine tree trunk and toss the caber. The object it to get the top part of the pole to hit the ground and then do a 180 degree spin. Very difficult. Only one of the ladies managed to pull off that feat.

Down the hill a ways, brawny men were throwing a sheaf of hay 79-80 feet into the air to get it over a bar. Astonishing to see these guys hoist that bale that high into the air. Alongside them, other men were throwing an iron weight (112 pounds, I believe) over a bar about 12 or 13 feet above their heads.

We stepped into the cool and air-conditioned building that housed the Scottish Country Dancers. A lone piper played as the young women and girls whirled and danced on the lightest of feet. It was a thing of beauty to watch these young people. As I  absorbed the sound and sight, my neurons fired up and I began recalling parts of an overly long poem, written by Scotland's beloved bard, Robbie Burns. In Tam O'Shanter, Burns tells the story of a drunken Scotsman who spends too much time drinking at the pub while his wife Jean sits at home "gathering her brows like the gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm." Anyway, Tom heads off home on his grey mare Meg and he comes to the churchyard at Alloway Kirk. 

The sight he sees is ablaze with light, where a weird hallucinatory dance involving witches and warlocks, open coffins and even the Devil himself is in full swing. 

Tam manages to watch silently until, the dancing witches having cast off most of their clothes, he is beguiled by one particularly comely female witch, Nannie, whose shirt (cutty-sark) is too small for her. He cannot help shouting out in passion:

Weel done, Cutty-sark!

And in an instant all was dark:

 A hell-raising chase ensues and Tam escape with his life, but Nannie pulls the tail off his long-suffering Meg. And, strangely, this imagery came to my mind as I sat and watched and photographed the dancing girls.

Maybe it was the haggis playing games with my mind and body. But I could see Nannie in this picture that I grabbed:

All My Tea from China

These are the two teas we purchased from China.

Two and a half months ago, on a whim, I visited a Chinese website, called Aliexpress.com. This place, it seemed to me, was the Chinese version of Amazon.com. Everything could be bought there. I had a wonderful time browsing through their photo voltaic solar panels, through their electronics like cellphones and tablets, down to hand warmers.

Because both Jo and I are avid tea drinkers, I thought I would try an experiment. I visited their thousands of teas, looking for an ancient tea, called Puerh Tea. We had seen it in large blocks when we were in Sitka, Alaska. It just gets better with age. I found a Puerh Tea that was 20 year old. It was sold in a dainty, embroidered bag for a ridiculously low price of $7.59, with free shipping. While browsing, I came upon an Oolong Tea that seemed to offer promise and, for $5.32; I threw it into the package.

What I had neglected to put into my calculations was Chinese New Year. A few days after I placed my order, 1.6 billion Chinese stopped working for two weeks. Not only did that include the YOYO Tea Store  No.525997, but the China Post and every other worker in the whole country.

As a result, my package took two and a half months to make the journey from mainland China, all the way across the Pacific to the little town of Estero on Florida’s west coast.

But, as luck would have it, the package arrived today, just five days before we are due to head north to our new adventure at Honeymoon Island State Park on Florida’s west coast.

It was with great anticipation that I boiled our water for the first taste test. You are instructed by Chinese tea makers to pour the boiling water over the tea and immediately toss the boiling water out. In this way, you rinse the tea of impurities and harshness. We did as instructed and then re-filled the pot. Ah. Mellow, smooth and gentle. What an amazing tea. And the beauty is you can refill your pot at least five times with boiling water, using the same little compressed capsule of tea leaves over and over.

Now, I know you tea aficionados want more information about Puerh Tea. I have decided to lift the info directly from YOYO Tea Store  No.525997’s website.  I have changed some mis-spellings. But I left the English intact. Enjoy:

What is Puerh Tea?

Puerh is a large leafed tea from the Yunnan province in China and has been famous as a medicinal tea. The earliest records of Puerh tea date back to the Tang Dynasty (618AD-906AD) when it was the favorite tea of the nobleman of this time. Puerh tea over the centuries has been used as a form of currency in China and an important international trading item.

Puerh tea derives its name from the market town of Pu-er, where it was originally processed and sold. It is said that the unique taste of Puerh Tea was developed because it took weeks to transport the tea leaves by horseback to the town to be processed. During this transportation period the tea leaves would begin to ferment in the humidity and release a strong, fragrant aroma, which people found quite pleasant. A special technique of tea fermenting developed and Puerh was thus created.

The secret of making Puerh tea has been closely guarded in China for centuries. The tea leaves are collected from growers of a special broad-leaf tea tree, which are said to be related to ancient prehistoric tea trees. The leaves go through two types of fermentation, which gives this tea its unique characteristics; a mild, but distinctively earthy flavor. Puerh teas are much like fine wines, which become smoother and more balanced with age. Puerh teas are much lower in tannins than other teas due to the special processing method which it undergoes.

Effects of Puerh Tea

1.     Decrease the blood fat, lose weight, decline blood pressure and resist arteriosclerosis.

Dr. Amill Carroby, from a college of Paris, French used Yunnan Puerh Tuo tea to do clinical trial and proved that: Yunnan Puerh Tea has a good effect to reduce content of lipoid and cholesterol? Kunming Medical College of China also observed 55 clinical trials to use Yunnan Puerh Tuo tea to cure the high blood fat diseases and compare them with 31 cases used clofibrate which has a good effect to incline fat. The result shows that the curative effect of Puerh Tea is higher than clofibrate. Long lasting drinkers of Puerh Tea can reduce cholesterol and glycerin fat. So long drinking of Puerh Tea can have the effect of curative the obesity. Drinking of Puerh tea can cause physiological effect in stretching human being's blood vessel, descending blood pressure and slowering the rhythm of the heart, etc. So it has a good curative function to high blood pressure and the brain arteriosclerosis.

2.     Anti-decrepitude.

Catechin of the tea has the effect of anti-decrepitude. Total amount of catechin content of Yunnan big leaf species tea is higher than other tea species. The effect of anti-decrepitude is better than other kinds of tea. At the same time, during the process of Puerh Tea, macromolecular polysaccharide transforms into a great deal of new dissoluble monosaccharide and oligosaccharide. The vitamin C increases doubly, which has an important effect to improve the human being’s immune system and preserve health, strengthen body and prolong longevity.

Brewing Puerh Tea

To make tea must control the water temperature, which greatly affect the aroma and tasty of the tea soup. Puerh Tea requests the boiled water of the 95~100 degrees C.
How much tea can depend on personal taste, generally, 3-5 grams tea properly with 150 milliliters water, and the proportion of tea to water between 1:50-1:30.

For the tea purer aroma, it is necessary to warm tea, i.e., pour out the boiled water immediately for the first time, which can have 1-2 times. The speed must be quick so that the taste of the tea soup can be prevented from influence. While really starting, about a minute the tea soup can be poured into the public cup, and then continue the second. With more times, the time can be prolonged slowly, from 1 minute to a few minutes gradually, which can keep the even density of tea soup.

This is YoYo's banner on her online store.

What We Choose to See

The Narrator goes off to work!

I was brought up short this past week while performing in the Koreshan State Historic Site's "Ghost Walk." This performance takes the audience back 120 years to the time when Dr. Cyrus A. Teed, a charismatic physician, led his followers from Chicago to Estero, Florida, to build "The New Jerusalem." 

Teed created this commune, based on the philosophies he had received from an illumination by god, who happened to be a mix of male and female.

My role in the production is as narrator. I introduce the concepts espoused by Teed and provide the audience with context to the times and to the hardships the commune went through. This involves dressing in a pretty formal suit, with bow tie and hat.

It was a constant surprise to me when my fellow volunteers would come up after the event to compliment me. "When you speak, it is with great authority," one guy said. "I didn't know you could do this!" Or another one, who said, "When you speak, people listen!"

Another woman told Jo, "He speaks so well. He has a nice voice. I didn't know he could speak like that" 

When I came away from this performance, I realized - once again - people see you in the context of what you do. They have seen me wandering around the campground in my electric cart, cleaning our campsites and, once a day, swabbing down bathrooms. Lost in the mix is the fact that speaking with authority comes pretty easy to me. 

No one - or very few people -  know my background in public speaking or even know my job as a publisher required me to sway the members of my board of directors four times a year. When I'd prepare my executive staff for our board meetings, I'd usually tell then, "It's Show Time!" Very few people have a sense that I was any more than a campground host. So they had pretty low expectations.

But there's a message in there for us all: Don't judge the person by the lowly position or the modest clothing.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for my next eight performances of this year's Ghost Walk!

He Dreamed a Dream

These beautiful youngsters in Namibia are orphans of parents who died from AIDs.

Nine years ago, while I worked in Namibia in southern Africa, I met a middle-aged guy from Iowa named Rob Myres. He was a computer whiz who had chucked the good life in California and had decided to take a right turn in his life to do some good for some of the indescribably poor children in Swakopmund, a lovely town on the western edge of Namibia. Swakopmund was a very German town, with many of the streets being named with Teutonic precision like Kaiser Wilhelmstrasse. It used to be a nasty little gathering point for the defeated and escaping Nazis of the Third Reich as they came down the African coast and waited for their ship to take them across the South Atlantic to Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay.

I remember stumbling into an antique store in Swakopmund and it was filled with Nazi memorabilia - Mausers, swastikas, German iron crosses. I even was told there was a time in the not-too-distant past that the white folks would gather on the anniversary of Hitler’s birthday. They would hoist the swastika on the flagpole while they sang the Reich’s national anthem. Ah, those were the days mein freund!

But I digress. I met Rob Myres for dinner one night and we chatted about his dream. He was buying metal containers from ships and would convert them into classrooms and office space. His dream was to encourage fourth graders to come to his Mondesa Youth Organisation where he would teach them fun things like tennis and would encourage them to read, read and then read some more.

I admired his single-minded dream, though I thought it would crash on the rocks because it is unbelievably hard to fight the bureaucracy in a developing country. The new keepers of the power don’t want a white man coming in to mess with their kids. So I thought Rob would probably throw in the towel after a few more months.

He asked me to edit a book he had written about his adventures and I remember being pretty critical about his story-telling efforts. And then we parted and I lost touch with him.

Imagine my delight this week when I received a note from his, along with this video link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZANHOk88yM

“In December 2003, I opened a bank account at Standard Bank, Swakopmund Branch, in the name of Mondesa Youth Opportunities. The following month Alta implemented our first programming with 15 grade 4 students. The next year we grew to 25 students and implemented academic enrichment programming.

“And so began the evolution of MYO into what we believe is now the premier youth development program in Namibia. As these things go, it has been more complicated and difficult than I originally envisioned, but it has also been extremely humbling and satisfying. I feel blessed when I get the chance to visit the talented and energetic staff and students of MYO. MYO today serves 110 students in grades 4 - 8. 

“Each year, a growing number of MYO graduates are accepted into one of the very best high schools in the country. This is just one of the many examples of our success. Next year Vera intends to implement a pre-school program that will broaden our reach and better prepare our grade 4 students for the rigors of our academic program. 

“My original vision of MYO was to design and implement a model of education-based youth development programs that incorporated Education Enrichment, Sport, Life-Skills & Extracurricular Activities. The overall objective was to elevate academic capability in a community marginalized by poverty to a level relatively proportional to what a child might receive in a more privileged environment. Life Skills are necessary to help children address the multitude of obstacles they encounter in a community of systemic poverty--obstacles which are barriers to the education process (as well as barriers to happiness and peace). Sport and Extracurricular activities provide motivation for attendance and participation and facilitate development of the Whole Healthy Child.

“After 10 years of MYO, here is what I know to be true.

·         
Without Vera Leech, MYO would have ceased to exist some years ago. Her stubborn refusal to fail and relentless pursuit of perfection is the primary reason MYO has reached the level of success that we have

·         
Our fundamental approach of education enrichment with supporting extracurricular activities is a powerful change agent; when programming is implemented properly using this model, positive change is inevitable

·         
There are no shortcuts in this work. It is challenging, complicated work that must be done every single day. 

Consistency and continuity are critical factors

·         

“Our successes are astounding. Ester recently returned from South Africa where she showcased her award winning science fair project. Frieda is class leader at one of the best high schools in the country. Paulina, a former top 10 Namibian tennis player remains one of the top students in her class--in spite of a brave and difficult battle with cancer. There are of course many more examples of results of positive intervention--much better known and told by MYO staff. 

“Overall, MYO remains extremely healthy and for this we are grateful. To all of you who have supported our efforts--please know you are loved and appreciated. To anyone who would like to join us--please contact me anytime and I would be happy to discuss how you can support MYO.

“I would ask that you please forward this note to anyone who may be interested in our work. Or better yet, forward it to everyone. The videos are a good reminder of why we are here.

“PEACE – Rob"

I’m delighted to pass along this information to my happy band of followers. Be sure to check out the video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZANHOk88yM

I think you’ll be inspired and encouraged that all is not hopeless in our world.

 I think you’ll be inspired and encouraged that all is not hopeless in our world.

Peregrine Hawk Migration Capital of the World

Jo, left, stands in the shade while two of the bird counters track the flight of the Peregrine Falcon.

We’re standing on the steps to the bathhouse at Curry Hammock State Park, just north of Marathon in the middle of The Keys. It’s a glorious day – sunny skies with bubbling cumulus clouds, azure blue water in the Atlantic to die for.  All is right with the world.

We’re here because this very spot on the steps to the bathhouse is the Peregrine Falcon migration capital of the world.  Thousands of  birds of prey, or raptors, use the Florida Keys every fall as a migratory route to wintering grounds in the Caribbean and South America.

We’re visiting the official counters: dedicated people who drive from as far off as California (on their own migration, I would guess) to actually count each bird as it passes by their steps.

These folks – there were five of them when we stopped by – are VERY busy. They count thousands of hawks and other birds as they head down the Keys. They’re quite serious about keeping track of each and every species individually. They have clickers for the most popular species and the voices rise and fall as more and more birds fly into view.

We watched as hawks, falcons, eagles, ospreys, American kestrels, swallow-tailed kites, turkey vultures, black vultures, northern harriers deliberately flew by. Ripples of excitement followed each sighting by the counters as they clicked their counters and wrote the tally for each species.

The leader of the group told me one peregrine falcon was fitted with a GPS transmitter when it was released in New Jersey. In 24 hours it was tracked as it flew due south into the Atlantic until it came due east of Miami. It then took a hard right turn and came into the northern Keys where it turned left and headed southwest along the 100-mile chain of keys. This all occurred in the first 24 hours. Then it hopped across to South America and ended up on the southern coast of Chile.

How does it get the energy, I asked. “The falcon will catch birds like swallows on the wing,” the ornithologist told me. “He’ll tear it apart while flying and pack the bird into his craw.” With that, looking through his binoculars he said, “There’s one, right now, with a full craw.” The falcon swooped by at about 500 feet. He regurgitates the food in his craw when he needs the energy and swallows, never missing a beat. Extraordinary.

These migratory birds do this 24 hours a day. So the count by the team is quite conservative.

Here are the counts for some of the birds from 2012:

Osprey: 1,454

Bald Eagle: 22

Northern Harrier: 959

Sharp-shinned Hawk: 1,942

Cooper’s Hawk: 766

Red-shouldered Hawk: 23

Broad-winged Hawk: 7,236

American Kestrel: 3,242

Peregrine Falcon: 3,836

Mississippi Kite: 99

Swallow-tailed Kite: 40

What a wonderful experience to watch these birds slogging southward hour after hour.

We headed farther south ourselves with our friends Mike and Lucy who share campground duties with us. We passed through Marathon where Jo and I have spent many weeks at anchor, awaiting our own weather windows to be able to sail across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas or back up to civilization in Miami and points north.

We eventually came to Bahia Honda State Park (there are 10 state parks in the Florida Keys) where we showed our passes and were honored guests. After 500 volunteer hours of work in the parks, we qualify for this pass which allows free entry to any of the hundreds of state parks.

We’re come to Bahia Honda to snorkel in the gin-clear water. Mmmmm. Delicious. Now this is what retirement is all about!

Fishing the Deep



Sun has set as we motor away from the land toward the fishing reef.

It seemed like such a good idea: Let’s all of us, the volunteers at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park, take a trip on Sailor’s Choice, a 65-foot power boat. We’d fish for the next night’s dinner.
 

We loaded up our cars and headed south in Key Largo at 7 p.m. Jamie, our first mate, explained the rules of the ship: 1. He lives by tips alone. So if you don’t tip him, he goes home hungry. 2. No booze aboard. 3. If you lose a fishing rod overboard, that’s a $100 fine. “So, if you fall overboard,” Jamie warned us, “be sure to throw the road back onboard to avoid that $100 fine!”
 

It was a buttery, warm night. A slight breeze came out of the east. A half-moon lay bright in the sky, while Venus, Mars and Jupiter added to the beauty. We scooted eastward toward French Reef. You motor through shallow water out to the reef. The captain dropped the anchor in 85 feet of water. Jamie provided us with containers of bait (mostly octopus) and the fishing commenced.
 

I pulled in a chunky triggerfish. Good eating, I was told, and Jamie put it in bucket with my number on it. Yellowtail came aboard, grunts, more triggerfish, a red fish with disproportionately large eyes, and then nothing for a long time.
 

The times hung heavy on us as we waited for the next strike. My watch said 10:30 p.m. before the captain weighed anchor and moved the boat three miles south to outside Molasses Reef. Jamie set the anchor again and we dipped our bait into the ocean for another try. Ron, our friend from Minnesota, hauled in a small shark which we released. Mike brought aboard a bunch of grunts which he threw back because they were too small to bother fileting.
 

By 11:30 p.m., we were sagging. It was long past our bedtimes and the lack of big catches hung heavy on the group.
 

The captain weighed anchor and headed home. We dutifully tipped Jamie and he unloaded our catch. Before much filleting was done, a Florida wildlife scientist joined us on the dock at 1 a.m. He measured our various fish, even opening up their brains so he could remove a small bone that would be analyzed to provide information about the age of each of the fish. “This bone acts like the rings on a tree. It provides u with information about the fish,” he told me. He would mail off each bone from each species, long with data about the length and weight of each fish. The bone will be sliced and then analyzed under microscopes to study individual fish.
 

James, meanwhile, was slicing and dicing our catch. Our group took home a back of about 10 pounds of fileted fish which we’ll cook for a group supper tonight.

If one looks at this adventure in purely practical terms, 10 people catching 10 pounds of fish makes for pretty expensive fish. But, when you factor in the camaraderie and the pure joy of having the ocean under your feet that, as they say, is priceless.

A Simple, Exotic Life

Southeast Asian Tokay.

Here we are, luxuriating in the warmth (just a little too warm, actually) of John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park. We are tucked away in "the Village", as the volunteer area is called at the park. But we are a stone's throw from the folks who drive in with their motorhomes or campers.

Jo and I live in the shade of a giant ficus tree that sends out tendrils to create new root systems to the tree. Ants run up and down these tendrils, working 'way too hard in the heat. We also have a pair of exotic Southeast Asian Tokays. These are fat gekkos with spotted bodies. Because they're categorized as "exotic" they are not welcome in the park. The state wants to guard and protect native plants, animals, fish and birds. But the state is not terribly concerned about the health and welfare of "exotics" so these gekkos - they are about 10-12 inches long - will have their eggs crushed to discourage further development.

We also have an inordinately large collection of blue land crabs. These guys are native. They're also very timid. You see them for a split second and then they sense your presence and scoot down their burrows. The girls are orange colored - really bright orange. The guys range from blue to violet. They are 9 to 12 inches in size and their meat supposedly is quite sweet. That might account for their timidity.

Our job is the usual for a campground host: cleaning bathrooms and walking the lots to be sure the patrons are having a good time. The cleaning schedule at the two bathrooms seem a little obsessive-compulsive. We are required to hose down the bathrooms, then we spritz the area with an antiseptic. Then we scrub the walls and floors. Then we set the hose loose again and rinse all of this down the drains. We then bring in fans and squeegees to remove the water. While this is going on, we sit and chat with the other campground hosts. After 45 minutes, we walk through the bathrooms with numerous towels and get rid of the excess water.

It certainly doesn't provide much in the way of mental stimulation. But we work three days a week so it really isn't too tough.

The one negative surprise about Key Largo (location of the park) is that it just a little too far away from the Miami TV stations. Their antennas are north of Miami, near or in Fort Lauderdale. As a result, we have abominable TV reception. Depending on atmospheric conditions, we can occasionally pick up the CBS station and a couple of public television stations. It is tiresome to watch and see the picture disintegrate into pixels, though I have had some luck in recording Letterman and Craig Ferguson while we sleep. Maybe the airwaves clear up in the late night. But we are not able to watch morning news.

We attended a potluck dinner at the park manager's home last night. Nice location. His home is two stories and has its own dock with a lagoon behind the house. That's definitely a major perk for the poorly paid park service rangers.