Shoot for the Moon

Yes. I'm still here. For all three of you who check this. And for myself, because, after all, don't we have to remind ourselves every once in awhile that we're alive? Feeling alive is an incredibly powerful thing. Makes us believe in the power that is vested in us, in the ability we have to change not only what we have become, but our environment as well.

Charleston is going through a beautiful period right now. Spoleto USA (a yearly arts festival) is here... and the city is filled with artists and performances of all kinds. One gets a sense that people are receptive, for once, to change. Yesterday I went to see a drag queen show. Even though it was an absolutely terrible performance (because she did nothing but lipsynch and after awhile, living in NY desensitizes you to the novelty of physical difference) the audience loved it. The crowd was basically made up of what the queen called "uptown white bitches," the same ones I've been talking about in my posts every now and again. Anyway, everytime she called them that, they squealed with delight. Like they were proud to be "uptown white bitches" and didn't realize that, (ahem!) it wasn't a compliment. In any case, point is, the "bitches" came out. They left their Mt. Pleasant bubble (although not quite, because the performance was in a ritzy club) and saw something new. Oh, and P.S. where they live really is called Mt. Pleasant.

Everytime we experience something new, it forces us to widen that narrow lense in which we enclose our reality. That is the hope, at least. For me, the widening experience came when I went to see a company of Flamenco dancers two nights ago. Their talent was incredible. Aside from being the best possible cardio workout in the world, this form of dance was one of the most graceful and emotional types I have ever experienced. I seriously sat wide-eyed in the audience, absolutely amazed by the ability that this small company had to move me with them. I left euphoric... but also painfully aware of my own mediocrity. And it made me realize once and for ever, that I want to do something with my life. My goal extends beyond personal happiness, it reaches into the realm of action. To be a mover, to make a difference. It's what I've always wanted to achieve, but in the process of "growing up," I think I substituted "realism" with "idealism" and it seems that has messed up my recipe. Not to worry though, I'm going to get it back, put it in, do what I need to do so that I will become all I can be. Because at the end of the day, I expect that of myself. So, here I go -- shooting for the moon, trusting that I will fall somewhere among the stars.

Sorrow and Strength

This letter was written by General of the US Army C.P. Summerall, who was also president of the Citadel, in response to a letter offering condolences for the loss of his wife. It is so incredibly sad. The letter itself has tear marks on it, where the ink was stained in blotches. I found it in the collection I'm working on for the CofC Special Collection's Library. This letter may not be reproduced.

May 4, 1948
Dear Rabbi Klapperman:
I want to thank you and through you, the members of your congregation and the Jewish cadets and veterans at the Citadel for your sympathy in my overwhelming sorrow. Your tribute to my loved one touches me and fills me with gratitude to you. She was my life and the way is very dark without her. I can seek strength only from above.
Sincerely yours,
C.P. Summerall

ADDIS ABABA CITYSCAPE

This is what part of the city of Addis looks like...
Taxi drivers. Note dents on cars-- these guys charge only a few cents a ride, and to know where they are headed, you have to listen out for the guy who is standing with the door open, because his job is to scream it out loud and collect the fares! They randomly stop whenever someone wants to get on, which means swerving from the left lane to the right lane without blinkers, and aggressively getting back into traffic by betting on the fact that you don't want your car to be hit, and theirs already looks like crap.
Traffic jam. These cows are being brought to the slaughter house (you can see its wall on the right hand side) via the main road. Happens all the time. Sometimes one cow figures out that she's going to die and bolts for the end of the road. Then the others follow, and you are surrounded by a stampede of freaked out livestock. Traffic jam #2. Sheep use the main road too!
Fruit and vegetable vendor. This lady is laying out her goods for customers; some of the best produce you ever tasted can be found in these ridiculously cheap stands. Just to give you an idea, 1 kilo (2.2 pounds) of bananas can go for as low as 3 birr (less than 30 cents, US).

ETHIOPIAN PEOPLE

Some images that reflect life in the city Addis Ababa.

Poor children get trained early to accost white faces and beg for money.
Man in the north-west side of town.
Woman with her baby in "Piazza" area of town
Taxi driver

ETHIOPIAN LANDSCAPES

I finally downloaded my pictures from my Christmas trip to Ethiopia. Here are some of my favorite lanscapes.

Lake Langano taken from the rim of the volcano

Woman walking to her village in Langano

On the way back from Menegesha National Forest

Hiking Trip

This past weekend Anna and I went on a hiking trip to Jones Gap State Park, which is a half hour north of Greenville, SC, in the Smoky Mountains. Even though we got up at 5:00 am, got lost for two hours on the way there, and almost ran out of gas, when we finally got there, we were not at all tired. We set up our gear, met up with the other members of the Lowcountry Backpacker Association, and were ready to go. It was just breathtaking. Hiking the trail in those gorgeous mountains, with waterfalls everywhere and the only sounds being those of nature and the friendly chatter of our companions, all of the stress of recent weeks slowly seeped out of me, until I was left feeling quiet inside, relaxed, and focused on nothing but the placement of my feet. That night, we built a bonfire and roasted marshmallows, while sharing stories about ourselves... we got to bed late, got up early, and headed out again. This time, Anna and I decided to hike Ravencliff Falls, and because it was scheduled to rain, everyone else decided to go home. So we went on by ourselves, and encountered some of the most gorgeous scenery. The waterfall was huge, and when we got there, we walked over a rickety old bridge and looked down to the valley below. By that time it was raining and the drops felt like a cleanser on my skin, literally washing away every ounce of stress that was left. I don't know how to explain what it was like, except to say that it was "renewal." Anna and I talked all the way there and most of the way back, finally catching up on our friendship that had suffered due to our busy lives. 10 miles later, we reached our car and the hiking trip was over. Wet and hungry, we stopped on our drive home at a small country restaurant, and had the best Southern style buffet I've ever tasted. Then we sang country tunes along to the radio and finally made it home, spent, sore, and incredibly happy.

The Sweetest Thing

Yesterday I was in despair - trying to chose whether to take on a new job even though it would mean longer hours, be harder and pay less but be more rewarding... or whether to stick with what I have, which is admittedly fantastic most of the time... and well-- it was tough. Carter's there with me, I'm spewing out a million thoughts a minute, completely incapable of rationality and driving myself crazy by analyzing pros and cons.
Suddenly, he stands up quietly and takes me by the shoulders and leads me to my room. On my bed, he had laid out magnolia petals in the shape of a giant heart. Inside the first heart, he layered petals of a different color, and inside that, a third layer. Laying in the middle was an envelope. I opened it up, and found two tickets to Thursday's baseball game, with a hand-written invitation to join him. It was the sweetest thing.