O.C.F. Caretaker's Journal O.C.F. Caretaker's JournalWe grow great by dreams. All
big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day
or in the red fire of a long winter's evening. Some of us let these great
dreams die,
but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days
till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always
to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true.
--- Woodrow Wilson
New Year's Eve Despite the fact that the East Coast is getting blanketed in snow the las couple days around here have been positively (dare I say it) Spring-like. I've gone for a couple rides which has been great. Today I noticed six complete automobile wheels down in the first logjam of the Fair. Obviously some idiot threw them off the 126 bridge to avoid the dump fee---which at ten dollars a wheel is substantial. At any rate I dredged them out, along with assorted bottles, before possible high water has a chance to redistribute them. I'm headed out to First Night Celebration tonight for the first time. Tonight is the once in a century 01-01-01 0101:01. Happy New Year! May all your troubles in the coming year be as short as your New Year's resolutions.
Saturday 30 December The following quote has been making its way around email lists in the last couple days. "Come the millennium, month 12, In the home of greatest power, the village idiot will come forth to be acclaimed the leader." ---Nostradamus, 1555. Thinking this might be the start of some kind of interesting year end entry I did a little research, but I was unable to find the source of this quote. In my opinion this is but another internet hoax. Nostradamus was a sixteenth century philosopher now famous for his prophecies known as the Centuries---of which there are ten, commonly numbered by Roman numerals I to X. Each Century contains one hundred verses, called quatrains, which in turn are composed of four lines. In addition there are several letters and a collection of six line verses called sixains. Written in an early Modern French dialect and liberally sprinkled with archaic Latin and Greek words, the prophecies tend to be extremely vague and ambiguous, and can be interpreted in a variety of ways. With approximately a thousand scenarios to choose from it seems to be a relatively simple affair to match up certain historical events with a given quatrain after the fact. While I tend to take the sceptic's view there are several predictions (such as the names of Pasteur and Franco given to us by Nostradamus) that are a little harder to dismiss than the rest. Surely the publishing houses, websites, and newgroups will have no trouble staying busy interpreting it all until the the year 3797--- and could that really be the end? Thankfully, at the very least, this is all you're ever going to hear about it from me.
Thursday 28 December Today I received my annual evaluation within the confines of the Ring of Fire. Few medieval torture devices were deployed and it was therefore relatively painless. The short of that is that it looks like everyone will be stuck with me for at least another year. From there Steve and I paid a visit to Coyote Steel where we picked up materials to fabricate a hitch for the Site Truck and to reinforce the front axles on the four wheeled carts. Steve then drove me over to Central Valley Cycles to pick up my Harley, which has been there a couple months. Basically it has had a through and complete going over and is ready for next season, admittedly a long way off at this point. Still it was fun to ride through the fog and I am sure I'll take it out from time to time, provided the roads are dry. I'm getting back into project mode now and it feels like we've turned that cosmic corner towards the next Fair, rather than putting the last one away. That obviously has everything to do with the New Year and the returning of the light, but it is still exciting to be here at ground zero experiencing a new beginning. Who can forget all the hype about Y2K? Well here comes 2001, the year of HAL. Although obviously Stanley Kubrick couldn't peg it exactly right, in many ways he was quite prophetic. The computer has certainly come a long way in a very short time. Point in fact, here I sit in front of mine and there you sit in front of yours. TIME magazine named the Computer as the Man of the Year in 1982, calling it "the greatest influence for good or evil". While it is certainly interesting to reread that article today from a historical perspective, it also makes us realize how difficult it is to imagine what the world might be like in another nineteen years, in the year 2020. This coming year though, it's just another reason to celebrate with our very own "Spaced Odyssey".
Christmas Despite my best predictions narry a soul was out here today, even though it was such a beautiful day to do so. Indian Creek rose out of its banks the other day but has since subsided and conditions on the Site are perfect for walking around, especially out in the woods. I have been out there of course, taking advantage of the opportunity to stockpile dimensional for later removal. Blue sky and fresh green grass, it's a kind of weird Christmas in Oregon, but then again Winter still has about three months to go. ALL THE PRETTY HORSES**** hit the theaters today and I was there to pick it off. A last cowboy kind of film, they sorta don't make them like that any more. My prediction, obviously not infallible though, is that it will be in the running for Best Picture.
Christmas Eve The middle of Winter has been a time of celebration since the dawn of history, rejoicing in the fact that the it was half over and the light was again beginning to return. In ancient Scandinavia the Sun was only out for a few hours a day. Cattle were slaughtered and frozen in the snow because they could not be fed during the Winter, so it was a time with an abundant supply of fresh meat. Wine and beer made during the year had also finally fermented. Norse fathers and sons would bring home the largest log they could carry and set it afire, then commence to celebrating the Yule, feasting and partying until the log burned away, which often lasted as long as twelve days. Ancient Romans celebrated too---in honor of Saturn, the god of agriculture. This was known as a time out of time. Lasting a full month, Saturnalia was hedonistic, food and drink flowed and the normal Roman social order was turned upside down. Slaves would become masters, and peasants commanded the city. In addition the Romans observed Juvenalia during the solstice, which honoring the children of Rome, and the birthday of Mithra, an infant sun god, on December 25. For some Romans, Mithra's birthday was the most sacred day of the year. In the forth century Pope Julius I chose this date as the birth of Christ in an effort to adopt and absorb the traditions of the pagan Saturnalia festival. The Bible did not actually mention a date of birth, but this seemingly became necessary in order to establish Christ was a man. The resurrection remained the primary concept however and Easter was considered the main holiday for the Catholic Church. During the Middle Ages believers devotedly attended church, after which they continued the ancient traditions by celebrating in a drunken, carnival-like atmosphere where a beggar might be crowned the "lord of misrule" and celebrants would go to the houses of the rich and demanded the finest food and drink. The first Puritan immigrants to America wanted nothing to do with all this rowdy fun of course, and so for many years Christmas was not offically celebrated in the United States. Eventually though, popular culture reasserted itself until today the American version (complete with tree, gifts, and Santa Claus) has come to dominate the world view of this oldest holiday. Although some critics might like to have us believe that the true meaning of Christmas, that is to say the birth of Christ, has been lost in all the hoopla---Christmas time has actually always been a quite secular affair, driven by a basic human desire to party the longest, coldest, and darkest nights of Winter away! Merry Christmas!
Friday 22 December Spent the last two nights on the coast at the Yachats Inn celebrating the Solstice. This year the crew consisted of me, Hilary, Leslie and Charlie, Doug and Carla, Crow and Carolyn, their two and four year old sons Tyler and Rudy, and dogs Marble and Jellybean. Apparently the tradition was begun about 1995 as a women only affair but now they let just about anyone go as evidenced by the fact that I was there, but it's my idea too of how the holidays should be celebrated---just a few friends, good food, and the spectacle of Nature. From inside our dry corner room perched on the edge of the rocky coastline we were treated to a whistling winter storm that even knocked out power for awhile as it whipped the ocean into a boiling white froth---what I like to call a perfect day. Today was the open house at the office and it was nice to see some of the other fair family folk during this season as well. Finally Hilary and I saw CAST AWAY ***1/2 at the McDonald Theater. While Tom Hanks won't win his fourth Oscar on this one it was certainly a thought provoking film which is well suited for the holidays, one that I can heartedly recommend.
Tuesday 19 December Bucket is here and we are working on getting the tarps cut and fit to cover Jill's Crossing. The industrial sewing machine that the Fair bought last summer worked great. I had a tooth cleaning appointment and so while in town I naturally had to insist upon the requisite movie. That put us smack into the middle of a mall full of shopping zombies. Having been away I have managed for the most part to avoid the dreaded annual consumer-fest---but today I was reminded that it was time for my annual holiday rant. Now, let me say that in principle I have nothing against the traditions of this time of year, some of which have been going on since ancient times. After all, here in the darkest part of the year it is an excellent chance to celebrate family, community, and the returning of the light. The trouble as I see it is that Christmas is seen as an obligation. Gifts must be bought for every friend and member of the family. So very often lavish gifts are given because the giver feels guilty that they haven't spent actual time with the person and the gift is somehow meant to take the place of that. Most of the time the gift turns into an expensive white elephant anyhow. Retailers expertly prey on these guilty feelings, relentlessly bombarding the consumer with subliminal ad campaigns. I know all this sounds pretty durn cynical but then again wouldn't it be great if we all just celebrated with each other and gave those billions of uselessly spent dollars to fund something truly worthwhile. Of course the entire economy would probably collapse if this were to happen, but then that is another story now isn't it? I'll be off to the Yachats Inn on the coast for a couple of nights to celebrate the Winter Solstice with some of the other pagan minded faeries among us and I hope to see some of the rest of you at the Open House at the town office this Friday 3-6.
Saturday 16 December I wasn't raining this morning and Steve and I were both out and about around the Site. After two extremely wet years it is strange to be able to do that this time of year without knee boots or a canoe. In fact the river is still at least ten feet from cresting, the undercut portions of the bank that may eventually sluff are still dry at this point. While averages can take care of this in a big hurry, it feels to me like a colder, drier year and that perhaps we may even see snow at the Fair this season. Part Two: The Chicken Buses When I left San Andres for the last time after living there for three weeks, it felt like I was leaving home. I flew back to Guatemala City and boarded my first chicken bus bound for Chichicastinango. After enduring an initial traffic jam the bus rattled through the city at high speed horn blaring, pedestrians narrowly escaping death by diving deftly out of the way. We kept picking up passengers ladened with assorted bags, boxes, crates, and babies until there were at least three adults in every seat designed for two children---and then we headed up the long winding hill out of town. Suddenly the drivetrain fell off the bus and we coasted to a stop. I figured that we would be stuck there for quite awhile but almost instantly another couple of equally crowded buses stopped and we all miraculously crammed in and were on our way within five minutes. And so it goes with the Guatemalan bus system, which although made up for the most part of antiquated American school buses, is surprisingly efficient and extremely cheap. The buses are brightly and beautifully painted, each bus line having its own scheme. Music blares constantly from the radio and the front is usually decorated with a variety of confidence inspiring religious iconography. At stops the food and drink vendors get on hawking their wares. They carry flat baskets on their heads filled with fried plantains, sliced mangoes, melted ice cream, French fries, bags of peanuts, what have you. Some will stay on for a couple of stops fixing tortillas with various fillings and sauces as the bus lurches along, passing them up over under and around. Sometimes you get the local preacher giving a sermon and then making a collection. The driver always has an ayudante who basically runs the show. He undauntedly climbs along the backs of the seats taking fares and swings from the roof through the back door while the bus is in motion. Usually I could claim a seat in the back even as the front was already filled beyond capacity---but eventually I would always find myself with one butt cheek on the tattered seat, my knees stuck into the aisle because they won't fit. While shoulder to shoulder with my fellow travelers and unable to move, the bus generates G-forces worthy of an E-ticket roller coaster ride as it twists through hairpin curves on a narrow mountain road.
Thursday 14 December Although we are yet to have any high water this season, it has been raining fairly constantly for the last couple days and the process seems to be beginning anew. Cold winds were blowing too and apparently took out a main power line, as when I attempted to get some supplies at Ray's I discovered that Veneta and Elmira were entirely blacked out. The power at the Fair remained unaffected this time however. Power outages seemed to be the normal course of events down in Guatemala, but they always seemed to get things back up and running pretty quickly, the longest one lasting no longer than an hour. Part One: The Eco-Escuela. The first three weeks of my trip to Guatemala were spent at the Eco-Escuela de Español in San Andres, located on the north shore of Lago Petén Itza, which in turn is located near the center of the Department (Guatemalan equivalent of a state) of Petén. Petén is by far the largest of the Departments and contains the huge biotrope reserve region in the northern half. The main economy in the small village of San Andres used to be the harvesting of chicle to make chewing gum, and many of the local traditions stem from these roots. I had the good fortune of being there during the town's annual week long festival to its patron Saint Andrew. The school itself began in 1993 as a project of Conservation International, ProPetén, and the government of San Andrés. In 1996. the school became an independent community run cooperative owned and managed by the 55 local teachers and homestay mothers. Classes are one on one tuition for 4-6 hours a day, Monday through Friday. After learning the grammar there is plenty of opportunity to practice with your homestay family. Besides studying Spanish there are extra-curricular activities such as cooking classes and visits to nearby farms, gardens, and the like. There is swimming in the lake and a fleet of small boats ferries people to and from the outside world. On the weekends it is possible to take excursions to places like nearby Tikal. All and all I felt that this school provided the immersion necessary to be able to pick up the language fast. Although three weeks is not nearly enough time to get proficient at a language, I felt my comprehension level improve dramatically and I can throughly recommend this experience to anyone who is really serious about learning Spanish.
Wednesday 13 December Rain welcomes me back to Oregon which is a bit of a shock to the old system after leaving sunny and warm Guatemala. I spent the day getting unpacked and catching up on stuff such as plowing through three hundred plus emails. It sounds like the beat goes on around here but at least I was able to take a nice break and rejuvenate. Interestingly enough there are many things about Guatemala that are similar to our own alternative culture, while conversely there are things that are completely---for lack of a better word---foreign. The people there are masters of improvising to keep things going, imaginatively using whatever comes to hand. Then again I think that perhaps they might marvel at the amazing amount of apparently pointless energy we are able to spend on something that has no immediate substantive value. Tomorrow I will begin a projected three part mini-series about my past month in Guatemala but meanwhile I need to take some time to unwind. There's no place like home!
