Nancy Wesson's Blog: A Texan Goes Questing, page 2

Different Ways to give in this Season of Giving

In this season of giving,   many of us are looking for  different ways to honor the spirit of the season and the sentiments of birth, hope and illumination - bringing light to our lives and the lives of others.   Certainly there are many ways to do this depending on beliefs and spiritual path, one's resources and where we are in life.   Some of us know family and friends who have everything they need and don't really want or need another material thing.  But still, we'd like to give something that makes a difference.
I suppose because of my time in Peace Corps and some hands-on experience with organizations whose stated mission is to help relieve suffering, improve education, health etc. friends have asked me for input.  So this blog is - in part - a response to those questions.  We are all aware, that just because an organization intends or proposes to do "good works," not all of them do.  Many fall short simply because of the challenges of delivering goods and services in a third world country.  Others spend too much on administration and housing their staff.  Then there are those that are inept or just outright dishonest.  I have my own experiences with the challenges of well-intentioned giving with complicated results.  
The bottom line is you need to KNOW your organization.  It - and its governance need to be vetted.  It helps to have some first hand experience or stories regarding the effectiveness of those organizations and how the monies/goods donated are managed and delivered. And DO they make a difference?
I know two such organizations that  really do work by contributing in organic, demonstrable ways to education and training or the delivery of goods that translate to on-the-ground economic development and sustainability.   They absolutely change lives in tangible ways.
1.  A friend recently asked me about Heiffer International, an organization I've contributed to in the past.   I'm happy to say I do have a first-hand story of success from Uganda. Denis, one of our favorite Peace Corps language trainers shared his story of how the gift of a cow from Heifer International changed his family's destiny, which - in turn, contributed to changing  the community's destiny. Every family uplifted in a developing culture, uplifts the community. Because of that gift,  Denis is well-educated, has a sought after job and also has a chicken hatchery. Because of the goodwill represented by  that gift, Denis continues to be an ambassador himself - giving back to his community and assisting foreigners who are in Uganda to help.  It's a gift that keeps on giving you might say. A goat, bee-hive, water-buffalo, cow, clean water equipment,  business launch - the options are endless! All improve the quality and sustainability of life in profound ways that most of us would have a hard time even imagining. To access their wide range of options, choose a country or a cause or give a gift: http://www.heifer.org/   2.  Another organization, with which I have first hand knowledge, is the Family Copeland Foundation :  "...established in May 2014 to provide support to the students, teachers, and administrators of St. Mary’s Midwifery Training School in Kalongo, Uganda, in the form of educational scholarships, facility improvements, teaching aids as well as promotion of the school itself."  Launched by Peace Corps friends Bill and Holly Copeland, the foundation is an outgrowth of their time spent in service at St Mary's and their witness to the integrity, mentoring and commitment present  at every level of the school, which also serves as a hospital for the area.
The school itself was established in 1959 and it is a testimony to the founders, the staff and the community of Kolongo that it was sustained throughout the 18 years of war in northern Uganda.
It's important to know that the girls who attend St Mary's have already been vetted, as has their family's commitment to their daughter's education.   It's hard to overemphasize how critical that is the student's success and the success of the program. The statement: "It takes a Village" is true and this commitment is continued at the school.
As some of you know, I've had my own experience with funding the education of two young men in Uganda.  My efforts were fraught with obstacles and challenges that are  almost impossible to describe or anticipate.  I tried to do it on an individual basis without established oversight and on-site mentoring in place and the experience taught me a lot in terms of what to look for when thinking of providing a scholarship.  Family Copeland Foundation is the "real deal."    More information that might be useful if you are considering a donation to this organization:Over 97% of donations will go directly to St. Mary’s to provide student and teacher scholarships or in some cases teaching aids.Holly and Bill Copeland pay for all foundation administrative costs such as website hosting fees, accounting expenses, mailing, promotional material and marketing. The only exception is credit card processing fees which are less than 3 percent.There are no paid staff and Officers and Board members do not receive compensation.Accounting for the receipt and disbursement of donations will be provided on request.The Principal of St. Mary's, Sister Carmel Abwot, along with her staff will decide which students and teachers will receive scholarships. Agnes, Gloria, Agness and Sister GodliverThus far, the foundation has supplied four scholarships. During their trip back to Kolongo in September of this year, Bill and Holly met  those fortunate four, pictured left.   A fifth scholarship of $2300  covering the full expenses for 30 months is well on its way. The fact that tuition, books, housing and uniforms are covered in that amount is part of the program's success, because girls can concentrate fully on their studies. In programs where only tuition is donated, the need of even a book or a uniform can derail everything.  From now until December 31, 2015, Bill and Holly will "personally match at 50% all donations."   Any amount makes a difference to not only the  students, but for the communities in which they will serve. To donate: http://www.familycopeland.com/

However you celebrate and choose to share in the holidays, I wish you each and all the warmth of home, family and friends and an awareness of the blessings inherent in freedom, choice and the options we enjoy.

Blessing to you all.

Thar be Whales and Other Oregon Musings

Another gorgeous sunset at Haystack RockIt's been too long - I've just been living life - and life is good in Cannon Beach.  When I arrived back in April after my first trip back to Austin, I plunged into volunteering at the fabulous Haystack Rock - the icon for Cannon Beach. It's a National Wildlife Refuge and Marine Garden and only two blocks from my cotage- so it's a great excuse to play and call it work.  Every day at sunset, you can find an army of camera wielding people - only some of them tourists -waiting for the sun to slide behind the horizon.  Yesterday, in the blink before it disappeared there was the "green flash."  It obviously has the power to derail a person from posting a new blog or any productive work.   And there are the tide pools and thousands of nesting birds in the spring and summer - even more temptation.  Lacy pink Corraline algae with an Ochre Sea Star
But it's not summer anymore and the beach at least has reclaimed its sense of pristine windswept remoteness. 

I've been to Austin and back again (October) and I have to say it was one of the most bizarre trips ever.  Classes didn't "make,"  there was a donnybrook over payment (a satisfactory compromise was reached after much sturm und drang and  emailing...)   One relationship experienced a strange, histrionic demise while others bloomed and some wonderful discoveries were made.  The ultimate distillation of the trip was the realization that my periodic trips have come to a natural cosmos-supported close, just as opportunities are blossoming here. And all is as it should be.  The universe in its infinite order orchestrates the opening of new doors as others close.  This has been an interesting journey as I continue to dismantle aspects of a previous life (websites and an email address I've had for 20b years...) and populate a new one  by fine-tuning older proclivities or adding new projects.   I love that doing things I love at the volunteer level have organically morphed into income.  I think that's the way life is supposed to work.   An idea for a non-profit to keep Ugandan girls in school is  also afoot, but has a lot of development that needs to be done before its launched.  More on that as it evolves.

Gooseneck BarnaclesMeanwhile, back on the beach, volunteering essentially as a Naturalist, I can give myself permission to spend hours at the tide-pools at low tide. That volunteering has turned into a part time job from February through September with a group known as Haystack Rock Awareness Program (HRAP).  We're there every daytime low tide to protect nesting habitat and educate visitors about the birds and marine life, but I confess - it's more like play and an endless source or discovery. I've become a student all over again:  Above is some gorgeous lacy pink algae and what's visible of a Sea Star (aka Starfish), with some seaweed mixed in. The cluster to the right that looks a little like dragon's claws is actually a colony of Gooseneck Barnacles, still a little bit open from feeding.  Who knew that barnacles could be beautiful!
FEED US!About mid July, I also started working part time at the Visitor's Center - at least it started as part-time. In a town that boasts a population of about 1800,  summer brings an absolute swarm of tourists that can swell the population to 20,000 on any given day. We are hit with the most amazing array of questions and the occasional calamity and have to think fast.  My favorite inane question so far, from a young college graduate:  "So what time are the tides - I mean - WHO DECIDES THAT?"   Patience and a sense of humor rule the day.  It's been a steep learning curve to tell people about an area I, myself, am just learning - but that's half the fun.   Another perk:  this little nest of barn swallows that made a home just to the left of the entrance!   Trying to capture the perfect shot of these little hatchlings,  the mom flew by just as I snapped and all the mouths opened. 
Chicken of the Woods (?) FungiWhen Brett moved to area 10 years I knew his enchantment with the area meant he'd never leave.   I'm beginning to understand it.  I love my coast better than his trees and mountain, but it's all available and I bought some trekking poles to hike when the wind on the beach is so strong it blows sand in your teeth.  Winds of 80-120 mph are not unusual.  The forest offers other treasures, one being edible mushrooms, but I've not explored that aspect except in pictures. If this orange fungus is what I think it is - it's edible when it's "young and fresh..."  But I think I'll pass.
Amid all the flurry or tourism and visits from friends,  much of Oregon burned over the summer and tourists here were unhappy about the burn-ban.  Really?  In other news,  Marijuana has been legalized and small Cannabis Boutiques have sprung up all over. I haven't sampled them yet.   Toward the end of the summer, we were blessed with an invasion of Humpbacks - cavorting, breaching, diving and generally enjoying a feeding frenzy very close to shore.  They were accompanied by porpoises (rare here), sea lions and the occasional Orca!   Unfortunately,  they were driven closer to shore because of a bizarre low-nutrient warm water mass given the scientific name of "The Blob" and that's a scary thing from an ecological perspective.

So here we are at run-up to the holidays and I'm glad to be out of the fray.   Cannon Beach is a little burg decorated with lights and trees, but none of the hype of bigger cities.  When they say this area is rural,  they mean it.  Christmas tree lots are just beginning to show up.  There's only one radio station I can tune in - courtesy of the sandwiching of the area between the sea and the Cascades - and on that single station, I've heard not a single Christmas carol.  And speaking of reception, Verizon is the only network that works reliably, so if you come with anything else, you essentially don't have a phone. It's a rude awakening for some - but in that regard, Uganda was good training.   I appreciate the slower approach and waiting till after Thanksgiving to sell Christmas.  A big day out shopping here is a trip to Costco and Fred Myer and all the rest happens at small, locally owned stores. 
So that's the news from the strange and wonderful world of Oregon. Wishing you all Happy Holidays to come,  whatever your holiday is called!

Austin in the Rear View Mirror

Once again I have Austin in the rear-view mirror.  It has been classic Austin, wildflowers beginning to bloom – Bluebonnets, Indian Paintbrush, Primrose for starters – and yellow air.  Yes – you read right.  It took me  bit to figure it out until I realized everything was sporting a layer of fine yellow dust – aka Oak Pollen.  Until the rain moved in, the air was dusty looking and allergists are no doubt dancing in the streets.  It’s that time of year again;  between Cedar Fever and Oak season, allergists, and producers of Kleenex, Puffs and antihistamines are raking it in. 

Before leaving I took a detour through Fiesta Mart to pick up Abuelita Mexican Chocolate (fabulous for hot chocolate) and dried Jimaica (hibcus blosssoms) for that glorious red hibiscus tea.  Returning to the car I was dealt a smacking-blow to the left side of my head by something back and soft.  It felt like someone had dealt me a hard blow from a small pillow, which turned out to be a huge Grackle whose GPS has apparently malfunctioned on his glide-path to the nearest perch - a vacant shopping cart.   Since Hitchcock was no where in sight, I am left wondering if this was an omen...  Some people get a symbolic 2X4, in which case  I am thankful for a soft Grackle.  In any case, it was time to leave Austin.

It was misting when I left, making the road slick.  My mother had an expression for that:  slick-as-goose-s**t.”  Apparently, growing up on a farm, she knew a lot about that topic and who am I to argue.  In any case, that was the condition of roads when I left and mist soon turned to a sprinkle, which turned to a light pelting and then to that kind of rain one only sees in Houston and Louisiana.  And coming from Oregon, that’s saying something.  So for 10 hours I drove through a veritable sampler of different kinds of rain until I reached Gulfport.

It was a perfect time of year to do the drive, despite the rain, because Texas road sides are blanketed with wildflowers, thanks to a contest started by Ladybird Johnson decades ago. Districts compete to see who can create the most eye-popping display of wildflowers and the results are just spectacular!
Atchafalaya Basin The Rous-Ga-RouxDriving into Louisiana was a stunning reminder of memories from childhood:  lousy roads – STILL.  I had hoped that that particular reputation had changed, but apparently not.  Following Interstate-10 took me across the Atchafalaya Causeway through that long stretch flood-basin with ghostly Cypress trees rising out of  the black water characteristic of Cypress-swamps.  Just plain spooky – and breathtaking - and a death trap…  I passed a six-car collision.  The part of I-10 crossing this swamp is a pair of parallel two-lane bridges 18+ miles long making it the second longest bridge in the US and the fourteenth longest bridge in the world.  Because the lanes going each direction are separated by swamp,  emergency vehicles had to come miles from the other directions, circle back to get on the portion of the bridge where the wreck happened, with bumper to bumper traffic and little way to get through.  But the swamps are beautiful and produced an old familiar feeling that’s hard to describe -  a combination of haunting, nostalgia and history.  Louisiana hasn’t felt like home for many years, but the melancholy familiarity of it stirred my heart and the spookiness of sparked my fear of dark water.  No way I would cross that stretch at night - I'm sure the Roux-ga-roux of childhood taunts lives there.  So many of my childhood memories are involved with stories of the swamps or memories of pole-fishing from a flat-bottom boat in the bayous – catching catfish and perch so fast my dad hardly got his hook in the water, busy as he was handling our catches.  Even as little girls we could bait the hooks with  earthworms, but our hands were too small to take a fish off.  We’d come home sunburned, smelling like fish, exhausted and happy.
Bayou La Batre Shrimp BoatsToday took me through Mississippi and Alabama and a different set of memories.  Road signs for Pass Christiane,  Pearl River and Bayou La Batre called up memories of the sailboat trip my ex and I took the year I turned thirty.   We noodled our way east from Galveston, through the Inter-coastal Canal, sometimes off shore and sometime snaking through swamps – anchoring in muddy water with five feet of silt – so deep it was tricky getting an anchor to bite.  Once it took five attempts to anchor, pulling up a foot of sticky slop on the anchor before it would hold, only to be told to move by a concerned shrimper. Seems we’d anchored in  the informal shrimpers’ channel and had we stayed, our boat would have been toothpicks my morning.  I couldn’t leave the area until I left the highway to scope out Bayou La Batre, which my Garmin announced as Bayoo La Batter.
 
I found the drawbridge and the bayou where I’m sure I amused the drawbridge keeper when I parked my car to take these shots. Travis suggested I was lucky not t be arrested as a terrorist for taking pictures at/near/from a bridge.  Hadn't thought of that. Stopping at a café near the bridge, I found a group of older men telling fish tales as I chowed down on a huge breakfast for the unheard of price of $4.16!  Home made biscuits, grits cooked by people who know show to do it, eggs and four slices of bacon.   Oh yeah – and that included orange juice!


Ginnie SpringsArriving at Travis', I finally corrected the error I made in Austin: missing my Chile Relleno and Chicken Enchilada with Tomatillo Sauce aka Chuy's Combo #5. Having rinsed down our grub with a Texas Martini (pitcher of Margaritas served with a Martini glass) and polished it off with a shared Tres Leche dessert, we waddled home and caught up on the past one and a half years.  Today Travis showed me the two favorite places he dives... Little River and Ginnie Springs.  Gainesville is an epicenter for cave diving and while I don't know if I will ever brave an underwater cave,   I certainly got the allure of it after seeing the cave entrances.  They are gorgeous, cool (72 degrees) spring fed waters, with a clarity I've not seen outside a bathtub!    

Little River: note the black waterThe upward flow-pressure (termed the boil) of the Spring is usually enough to keep the tannins that leach out of the Cypress knees and turn the water the color of strong black tea, confined to the river.  Somehow appropriately the two most popular caves at Ginnie Springs are called: Devil's Ear and Devil's Eye.

On Wednesday, I sadly said goodby to Travis and navigated my way to the northwestern corner of Arkansas amid the worst 18-wheeler traffic and wind I've met since traveling the eastern corridor around New Jersey.  I love Hissy Fit, but she was tormented mightily by strong cross winds made even worse by the the turbulence created by the big-rigs, outnumbering automobiles 12/1. It was not a happy drive, but the serene route into the Ozarks with roadsides peppered by Redbud and blooming Dogwood almost made up for it.
Eureka Springs' historic downtown is a mini-San Francisco with old Victorian houses perched on hilly streets.  It's known for it's healing waters and ghost stories.  Even the little Swiss Village motel I stayed in had its own assortment of things-that-go-bump-in-the-night and did they bump!  

The weather was beautiful until the moment I left under those egg-carton skies known to produce hail.  Racing to get out from under those before the heat unleashed their bounty, I was relieved when I stopped for gas two hours later only to be told they were under a tornado watch.   Wind and more big-rigs completed the picture all the way back into Texas where skies cleared and traffic thinned.  It was a fine Texas welcome!
 
What brought me to that quaint little town  of Eureka Springs, was the Ozark UFO Conference, now in its 28th year.  In part I came to explore more fully the experiences I have had over my lifetime - and those my children have had in early childhood.  

To the left is one of the paintings that emerged from that period when we were all having experiences and none of us were telling the others.  The kids didn't know it was unusual.  In Uganda, an enormous silver saucer type hovered over my house and I continue to have related experiences, thus far positive in nature.   This conference offered the opportunity to speak with credible researchers and others with similar background.

I'm whizzing through Austin once more to attempt to pick up a pair of lenses for new glasses.  The lab has managed to confound the process, messing up the lenses multiple times and once again, I am leaving without them - I think.  I'm not gone yet.  And to continue the Grackle story,  sipping coffee at Mozart's on the lake a few days ago, I was again in the Grackle flight-path and involved in a near-miss as yet another Grackle flew by inches from my ear, screeching his raucous message as he flew by.   Since I don't speak Grackle, I have consulted the internet and various interpretations were offered:  "things are not as they seem," "quit talking...  and DO,"  any of which could have relevance.  i.e  Shut up and write the next book!

Getting new tires this morning to continue this epic road trip taking the southern route this time, stopping along the way to see friends in Phoenix, California and southern Oregon.   On the off chance that "get new tires" was included in the Grackle's message, I would like to say, you have been heard on all levels and it will no longer be necessary to throw yourselves at me.  A simple wink will do.

Missing the beach!  The journey continues...