Texas Kiwi

R

2011-07-19T20:57:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong, I luv the letter R, but I just can't roll it.

The kiwifruit

2011-07-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

Behold the kiwifruit, for it represents the land from which it came. Seriously, tho, it does. (Now imagine a picture of a kiwifruit for decoration.)

Decorative and such

2011-07-17T20:22:00.000-07:00

Just read a blog entry from my friend Tara who's kicking it in Tanzania right now. Felt I should get back on the horse. Well, my day consisted of studying, oh and watching sports... the good ones, that is... golf and soccer. Not just soccer, though. Women's soccer. It was great stuff. Not just the playing but the attitudes. Those girls hardly ever complained to the ref, and they are really positive towards each other and their opponents. You don't see that much in men's sports. Rugby's the main one that comes to mind. Some golf. Maybe cricket. There might be others, but I think it's become a lost art in all the rest. I don't know where it's gone. Perhaps it never really was. Hopefully I can do something about this. (Oh, and just imagine that I've inserted a picture of a soccer ball to make this all decorative and such.)

Perspective

2010-05-31T21:57:00.000-07:00

Don't always expect a new perspective to come to you.

Sometimes you have to find it yourself.

Feeling Free

2010-05-06T00:56:00.000-07:00

When I lived in New Brighton, a suburb of Christchurch, I saw a man by the name of Peter Donnelly doing something beautiful. He would make art out of a stretch of sand about 50m by 20. I first honestly thought he was doing it because he was homeless, and this is how he made money because there would be a hat on a mat at the bottom of his art for people to drop money into from the pier, from which people would view his art. It was really beautiful what he would do. Sometimes he would plan in advance what he would do. Sometimes he would plan nothing at all. Sometimes he would plan something, but do something entirely different.

His canvas was a stretch of sand freshly washed by the outgoing tide. It was prim and pristine for creating whatever he wanted. But he would only have 4 hours to finish his work before the incoming tide would clear his canvas again. Sometimes he would not finish what he wanted, but every time it was fascinating, both the finished product and the way he worked. When I saw him in the middle of 2008, he was on #872 and hoping to make it to 1,000.

This one was of particular interest to me. He titled it, Feeling Free, and I can still picture him making his motions with the details of the butterfly and the designs at the top. I was really curious what the story was behind it, so I asked him. (He's approachable once he's done.) He said that he hadn't been able to do any sand art for a couple weeks because of breathing problems he'd been having, but now that he was able to make it out, he was feeling free and expressed it in his art.

And what a happy fella he was when he did. He wasn't completely over his ailment, but he was enough to get out and do what he loved to do. I thought about his art when I again came to realize the importance of feeling free. We all find ourselves locked in to something at various points in our day and throughout our lives. But at those moments, we can also realize that we can feel quite free despite whatever lack of freedom we may be facing at the time. So, this is essentially an "it's all how you look at it" sort of thing.

However, it's also something that may require action. Donnelly, for example, probably would not have felt the same freedom if he hadn't taken the action of getting to the beach that day to do his art. Other freedoms may come from fluctuations in our lives, such as cutting ties with people we know, making new ties with people we meet, or developing stronger ties with people already in our lives. We are constantly making decisions, and sometimes we feel as though we choose one decision over another because we are tied to it. In reality though, we choose every decision we make. For example, we may feel obligated to go to some sort of family gathering, so we go. Now, some may not see the freedom in that, but it's there. We have the freedom to make family a priority in our lives, and so if we are to make a decision that makes us feel as though they aren't a priority, then we are essentially choosing them not to be a priority. Same with a career, in which you decide what the threshold is for what is being too little or too much of a commitment, relative to other commitments in life.

So, next time you're feeling tied down in a way that you think you may not wanna be tied down, whether with friends, family, work, or school, just realize the freedom that you had and still have in making the decision you've made. It's quite freeing.

2010-04-29T17:45:00.000-07:00

NCAA Bracket

2010-04-02T14:06:00.001-07:00

What are you really looking at when you look at your bracket? Are you looking at what teams you've picked to go all the way? Are you looking at a great American passtime? No, not really.

When I look at my bracket from this year, I see a bracket I've never done before - a bracket unfamiliar to Richard Rigby, Jr. What is it? When have I ever had Kansas going to the Sweet 16? When have I ever not had Southern Illinois or Butler going to the Elite 8, or even winning it all? Why on earth would I put Baylor in the Final Four? What's happened to me? I'm afraid to say it, but yes, I've become a realist. Is it because of med school? Possibly, but might it be a better to ask, am I in tune with myself? See, a lot of what I do is based on simple, but difficult to understand, thinking. I fell in love with the Salukis of Southern Illinois a while back, and then I got into watching their rivalry with Butler, and then I started picking Butler to go far. But why not this year? I've lost touch with some of me. It's not to the point of no return. Oh, there will be a return.

Next time you look at your bracket, think about what you're really looking at. You're looking at yourself.

St Patty's Day

2010-03-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

Crazy, I've never properly celebrated St. Patty's Day til this year. Never have I ever had green eggs. And it wasn't just green eggs we had for breakfast, but green pancakes, fried green tomato(tillos), and green mimosas. It worked out really well. I had 4 friends over, and though we lost Maddy to her unfortunate flight, Sergio, Justin, and Leslie stuck around for Green Beer and Pictionary at the Broadway 50/50 bar. We snuck in a little re-enactment of a 6th grade science experiment because of all the excitement around Sun Chips's new 100% compostible bag. I'll let you know how that turns out in 13 weeks. To say the least about how the rest of the day went, hopefully Leslie and I will be staging a monumental comeback on Sergio and Justin for our deficits in Pictionary and Foosball because we have the skill. Justin and Sergio just had the luck of the Irish this day. (btw, I think Sergio might have some Irish in him).

A change of scenery

2010-03-22T17:18:00.000-07:00

I knew I needed to do something entirely different from my normal routine, so for spring break, I got about 8 of us together for a camping trip. The best thing about camping is that there's so much down time that you don't know what's gonna happen. After getting our tents up, we decided to jump in the lake, and that's how we met Pete. Pete was just strolling along the banks with a stick in his mouth when we called him out to us. So he swam out to us, and we threw his stick back to the shore to fetch. Kind of backwards, but Pete liked it. His owner was nowhere around, and his bark of fear of abandonment was so awful that we called the number on his tag and soon said goodbye to our new friend.

The little things continued to make it a nice evening... pick up soccer, cooking, fire-making, lantern-whatevering... as well as the crazy things... walking on fire. Somehow we "all" slept til 1030 the next morning, and then we were off to Inks Lake. The castle on the hill made for an enchanting beginning followed by the perfect 5 mile hike we needed. To cap it all off, we found Devil's Waterhole for our cliff-jumping. Slightly dangerous, but exactly what we needed. The perfect 1 night getaway.

100% Pure New Zealand

2010-03-01T19:57:00.000-08:00

Can I just tell you how beautiful New Zealand is... (rhetoric question, unless you just wanna say Yes.) I keep a running slideshow of pictures that my friend Kevin and I took in New Zealand as my desktop background, and let me just say that it never gets old. Beauty to one's eyes is also beauty to one's soul. It's beautiful what beauty does to one on the inside. I simply melt every time I see some of the pictures we took, and so to be touched in such an inexplicable but familiar way shows hows mysteriously beautiful our souls react to the beauty in the world around us.

This one photo in particular by Kevin that gets me every time. Just take a moment and look at the beauty, not just as one image, but as many images put together, making a truly magnificent whole. (I didn't upload a hi quality version of it, but it'll still do the trick.)

The Word "Yeah"

2010-02-26T15:02:00.000-08:00

Some of us are slower than others at picking up on things that maybe should have been understood as a 13 year old, and I'm not saying whether I fall into this category for this particular topic. But really, how is anyone supposed to know that the word "yeah" is spelled "y-e-a-h"? When you first said or heard the word "yeah," is "y-e-a-h" the spelling that comes to mind? I don't think so. Is it even close? It can't be "yah" because that must be pronounced like "Hannah." I always thought it was "ya" because it's perfectly set up for a short vowel sound, but I guess that must be reserved for the slang for "you" in "see ya" and "luv ya." Even still, that pronunciation leads you to a speeling mor along the lines of "yah" or "yuh." "Yea" is pronounced "yay" because that's how is was always pronounced in readings of the 23rd Psalm.

So, we're left with "yeah." I don't know what other words with "-eah" might produce the same sound, but for all those who to text "yeah," you might get away with "ya" sometimes, but if you want to convey it the right, you're gonna have to give in to the "majority rules" rule and spell out all four letters of it.

The Inmundane

2010-02-24T19:22:00.000-08:00

Wow it's been a long time since my last post. I guess I just got caught up in doing stuff in NZ that I lost interest in thinking or writing about it. It was a culture that I was more familiar with compared to that of Nepal, so I think that had something to do with it as well. We are much better at absorbing our surroundings when we are in an unfamiliar place, so having been back in the States for almost two years now, I am sensing a lack of appreciation for my surroundings here.

So let's take this blog in a new direction. Let's make the mundane into the inmundane. You will have to bear with me at first because I am not as good at it now as I will be. We must do our best to create around us the life we want, so let's consider this to be a minor (or possibly significant), version of that.

Organic bananas aren't near as good as non-organic ones. I am more for the 'au natural' than most people I know, but honestly, the non-organic ones just taste better, and they're bigger. Actually, the organic ones didn't have much of a taste at all. So I wonder... is "banana" a taste that we've created? Chew on that for a while.

In Honour of Opening Day

2008-04-05T01:07:00.000-07:00

I hear baseball is underway back home, so I have this for you. Lloyd (the PB&J Guy) and I were out and about one day when we passed by some batting cages. Lloyd had tried this once before, but it was still quite new to him being British and all. Teaching someone as old as me how to play baseball is fun in itself, but don't let this other stuff go unnoticed. Check out the setup... The batting cage is only enough to kind of cage the batter, and you are hitting out into a field with rugby uprights, golf flags for the golfers sharing their driving range with you, and an old beat-up car with a computer sitting on top of it. Why don't we have this in America?!?

Cape Kidnappers

2008-03-31T20:07:00.001-07:00

So we stare at this amazing piece of coastline across the bay from where we are eveyday. It is covered with massive cliffs jutting this way and that, and it leads to this point called Cape Kidnappers, where the Maoris kidnapped Captain Cook's translator's son. We found a day where a good chunk of us at the backpackers could get together for a bike ride out to this point. Doug, the backpackers' owner, rented us some bikes and drove us out to a good starting point, and we were off.

Here you see us on our bikes. If you look, you'll notice we're short one. That's because we had a tandem bike, and somehow Michael and I ended up on it. We bear down a lot of weight one two wheels and would sink into the sand sometimes, but we managed. We had to pass the world's largest mainland gannet (a kind of bird) colony which smelled like stank. And beyond that we found this beautiful beach you see in the first photo just for the six of us to enjoy.

Kaweka

2008-03-31T19:19:00.000-07:00

After arriving here, not m

ore than 5 days had passed before Michael and I were back doing what we loved most here - tramping (hiking). We grabbed a rental car and headed for the nearby Kaweka Mountains for 3 days and 2 nights. We unknowingly stumbled into what they called the Kaweka Challenge - literally a marathon in the mountains. One of the guys running the event chatted with us in the carpark (parking lot) when we got there, and there were many more at the hut we stayed in the first night. I guess word had gotten around that there were 2 Americans on the track, and while we were getting situated at the hut, we heard the walkie talkie go off with, "Ya guys I'll be there in 15 minutes. If those two Americans show up, just kick them out." Michael and I immediately pulled out our swords en guarde. Not really, but it was kind of funny, and we all had a laugh about it. We slept on the porch with a couple other blokes (dudes).

We spent the second day hiking next to these crazy athletes whizzing by us, doing in the mountains what we, or at least I, can't even do on flat ground. We came to one of the checkpoints for the racers, and found that all the coordinators at this post had dressed up as pirates and were listening to Jack Johnson.

The third day, we kind of shouldn't have been hiking. We got up on the ridge and had maybe 100 yds visibility at times. It was raining and windy. It was good though. 60 mph winds are fun. In one of these pics, you can see Michael leaning backwards just so he won't get blown over by the wind. Good tramp, good tramp.

When that which is common becomes unusual

2008-03-16T19:27:00.001-07:00

So I've made a couple of British friends in the hostel - Lloyd and Jonathan. Turns out that the former's a huge Liverpool fan like myself. I was shocked to find out that he had never had a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich in his life. At the age of 24 - pardieu! Those of us who were aware that this was an unbelievable instance, phenomenom really, right before us, didn't know what else to do other than have him try one. Here are the events in sequence. You can decide for yourself his opinion of it...

...and then he had another.

Mr. Lemmons' Museum

2008-03-15T17:06:00.001-07:00

A couple of days after landing in Napier, Michael and I grabbed a rental car to head off for a tramp (what they call a hike here). Doug, the hostel owner, highly recommended that we stop at a museum on the way. He told us nothing more than that we would just be blown away. Michael and I took his advice but almost missed it since it is labelled by nothing more than this "Museum Open" sign. We parked the car and mosied through the gate towards a red barn that asked us to ring this bell. So we rang. We heard some ruffling in the old house opposite of it, and a old man with a cane made his way out to his scooter. All in all, it was about a 5 minute event, but he came to us. We told him we would like to see his museum, and he said, "That'll be $5 each." He carefully got off his scooter, and led us into the barn. The first part of it was just a little room with a bunch of antique farm equipment, tobacco boxes, and clocks. I felt that if it was just gonna be a lot of little things like these, I might as well take it all in by taking my time. Allowing myself to be fascinated by these little things set me up for the jaw dropping that was to follow. The next room opened up into a large number of small antiques bascially worshipping these centerpieces of an ancient Rolls Royce and her brother known as a Napier. Here I have a photo of Mr. Lemmons with these two pearls. He is 90 years old and proud to also be the owner of the world's oldest Austin - that beautiful blue machine with a tan rag top.

There were many other vehicles, and I think he would be glad for me to tell you that he does not plan on selling any of them. His parents collected cars which fit in well with their proximity to the town of Napier, known for its Art Deco style. I think of Cruella DeVille from 101 Dalmations when I think of the Art Deco style that goes on here.

There's also an old clock I've put up. Take a close look at it. They've made it slightly different. Some of the maps they make here for school children these days aren't all that different either. Here are a couple of other neat things he had... a box old pocket watches, an original motorbike, a good ol' American Ford, and an old black car used to escort the queen in when she visited NZ once upon a time.

Cricket!

2008-03-03T00:32:00.001-08:00

Michael has had a huge interest in cricket ever since the first time we came to NZ two years ago, so he was thrilled to find out that England and the NZ Black Caps were playing each other in Napier. We weren't quite sure what to expect being that this is a game where you can take a nap on the lawn and not really miss anything important. Well, as we found out, to New Zealanders, the 8 hour length of the match means that unheard-of amounts of alcohol were to be consumed.

They really don't hold back either. You are welcome to bring whatever food and drinks you can carry in. For this guy, it looks like he's loaded up on his cricket-watching fuel for the day. Many take the opportunity to get really dressed up like you see for the guys with the Tui panchos and sombreros, the dude dressed up as a cow, and the gentleman in the dress. After 8 hours of drinking, which is a realistic proposition for these kiwis, some get fairly restless near the end, and a couple of fights broke out followed by police escorts. They say cricket matches usually aren't this rowdy (they usually are more like going to a golf tournament), but it was in Napier, NZ this day.

This dude, the one in the red Retro Rockers shirt, I guess stubbed his toe really badly on something, and he was in need of something to stop the bleeding. I had brought a little white towel to sit on, and I guess he was so drunk that he did not think much of it to just mosey on over, pick it up from right beside me, and wrap it around his toe without even saying anything to me. I looked over at Michael, and we just smiled.

The final score ended up being 340-340. A tie! After 8 hours, they tied and did not even bother to settle it with a tie breaker. Michael and I walked away stunned and sunburned.

We're Off Again

2008-03-03T00:32:00.000-08:00

Hey mates,

Well, I said goodbye to all my friends and the children at FBBA. I was the janitor at the elementary school for four weeks. I know we all have our opinions of the janitor position, but I am telling the truth when I say it was one of the best jobs/experiences that I will ever have. After coming back from Nepal, I have been very satisfied with just living each day, doing my job, and nothing more. The people I worked with are now good friends in my mind, and the children were nonstop fun. Now Michael and I are in New Zealand again for the next 4 months, so instead of being called Mr. Frisbee by 6 year olds, I will assume a new name by whatever internationals want to call this soon to be apple-picker. That is my job there, at least for the first six weeks in Napier/Hastings. I will try to reside in the hostel known as Archie's Bunker, named after the character, but I know nothing more other than that I'll be on the coast, and this place is sunny 90% of the year. I will update my blog every couple weeks or so. Stay tuned...

Cheers,

Mr. Frisbee

Nepali Song and Dance

2008-02-14T15:20:00.000-08:00

The people of Sarangkot loved to dance. I would dance almost every night with Krishna's daughters: Prativa, Pramila, and Silina. Krishna would join in, too. Dancing is done at almost all the festivals. In fact, for one of them, Tihar (the festival of lights), children would go around in groups in the evening with little stereos and dance for you to Nepali music. You could join in, too, if you wanted. At the end, you would give them some rupees, and they would then be off to the next house in their little tour.

For the Teej Festival, Heidi (another volunteer) and I went to a nearby village. When they saw us dancing outside of the circle to practice our Nepali dancing, I guess they thought, "Sweet, white people doing our dance. Put them in the circle." So they pushed us through the crowds to the center to dance with a Nepali girl in front of 200 people while they sang. Krishna wanted me to stay afterwards to participate in the shotput competition to win him 500 rupees, but a gangfight broke out. The last things I remember seeing were a grandmother beating a teenage boy over the head with her umbrella and the town's future teller getting on stage to have a civil trial of some sort.

The video I have here for you is of one of the girls in Sarangkot dancing at Sarangkot Idol, a community singing competition put on by Krishna and his organisation, ACDF Nepal. The judges were tallying up their marks for the participants, and one of the guest singers decided to sing a song that is popularly used for dancing. So, this girl, a very good dancer, got up to dance for us all. The way she is dancing is pretty typical for the younger, energetic girls in Nepal. Older women will still use the same motions, just not as fast.

I think this is a wonderful little event that I got to be a part of. I was a guest of honor along with a Belgian man and his wife, who were helping build schools in the community. I was very lucky to have a camera at this event, and I hope you enjoy this very unique piece of culture.

Jordan

2008-01-31T17:45:00.000-08:00

Whenever I am updating anyone on my family, I usually spend the most time on how awesome my brother is on the bass guitar. I've had one of my great uncles ask me to put this on my blog, and everyone else, here's a little piece of serendipity for you...

The National Anthem of Nepal

2008-01-10T12:34:00.000-08:00

It was only 3 months before I arrived in Nepal that the country had changed its national anthem. The old one was about the king, and since the people don't like the current king very much, they decided to change the national anthem. It is now about flowers, fields, and the beauty of their country. This rendition was performed by the students at my school, Shree Jana Jagrit Higher Secondary School, in Sarangkot. It is so new that not even all the teachers know it.

I'll go ahead and inform you of the political situation there. King Birendra was a very well liked king. His rule began in 1972. Among other things, he protected Nepal from China, India, and the Soviet Union in their efforts to take advantage of Nepal, and he tried to bring democracy to the country. Sadly, he was assassinated in the Nepalese Royal Massacre of 2001 in which his son, the heir to the thrown, shot many of his family members and then himself, over his mother not approving of the girl he wished to marry.

Bihendra's brother, Gyanendra, assumed the role as king, and the people of Nepal have not been very happy with him, especially when he disbanded the parliament in 2005 and declared the government an absolute monarchy. It has been difficult for the country to establish themselves as a democratic republic, but 2 weeks ago, the parliament held a vote to assure the removal of the monarch upon this April's vote to bring in a new constituent assembly. Nepal will soon be a federal democratic republican state. (see BBC for more)

Pashupatinath Temple

2007-12-18T13:09:00.000-08:00

Second to McGee and Me, I watched Indiana Jones movies more than anything else up til the age of 10. I was always jealous of the situations he was in and fascinated by the exotic nature of the places he visited. In one cultural observation, I found myself at a place near Kathmandu called Pahupatinath Temple. It is easily over 1500 years old and could be as much 3000 years old. The stairs are massive and made of huge stones that have now taken a uniquely smooth surface from the erosion over time. Many miniature stone temples line the stairs and river that runs through, and the increasing density of trees as you ascend the stairs and ubiquity of monkeys make this a very exotic place for a western boy to find himself. And so much so, that I was imagining myself to be in an Indian Jones setting, minus the action.

Otherwise, visiting here makes you feel like you are going way back in time. They have done very well to preserve the appearance and traditions of this place, and knowing that what they do here has been going on for centuries makes this a very exciting place to visit. You see, this temple is a popular site for cremations and funerals in Hinduism. At sunrise and sunset of every day, a funeral ceremony is performed. On one side of the river, three priests (probably priests in training) perform a dance in unison. They are dressed in red cloth with a white sashe around the waist with either red or blue trim. The dance is very simple so it may just be considered a routine. They repeat the same motions in the four cardinal directions with an ornament in their right hand, and then switch to another ornament at the end of each cycle. The different ornaments included incense sticks, incense bowls, a firy Christmas tree shaped display of candles, another heavy candle holder, marigold, peacock feathers, and a long white tail thing. This was done the whole time with a heavy bell in the left hand. It lasted for about an hour, and wax from the candles would often drip into their hair. Their were not but five tourists there, and the rest for their for the funeral of a loved one. There were times for everybody to clap their hands and sing, and some people would even dance. I don't have any pictures of this, out of respect for their customs.

Meanwhile, the body has already been prepared and wrapped in a yellow cloth with red prayers on it and is being burned on a funeral pyre across the river. The cremations go on all day, and the ashes are brushed into the river. Some boys liked to swim against the current during the days of the monsoon season. I don't know why they didn't think it was too dirty to do.

The temple belongs to Lord Shiva, one of the three main deities in Hinduism. He is known as the destroyer and transformer, so I think you wouold want to appease him in hopes of being given a good life in your next reincarnation. He resides on the top of the belly button of the world, otherwise known as beautiful Mount Kailash in Tibet. It was his birthday when I visited, so I got to see a procession into the part of his temple where his bull resides.

There was also this picture of a guy with the title Milk Baba below it. My first thought was, "Sweet, I wanna make this my facebook picture." I looked it up when I got home, and it turns out the Milk Baba is a Hindu guy who has being living off of nothing but milk for the past 25 years with most of the milk coming from one of the nearby cows. He lives in one of the mini stone temples here and has received enough donations to travel the world. Apparently, for some people, milk has all the essential stuff (carbs and proteins) for living.

Stairs, looking through cremation smoke over Pashupathinath, and river shot with cremations

River through Pashupatinath with cremation fires, Monkeys, and the Milk Baba

One of Shiva's temples, Shiva bull (obviously not female), and procession for Shiva's birthday

Nepali Shave

2007-12-17T16:31:00.000-08:00

There are many little haircut/clean shave shops in Nepal. Haircuts were either done with or without electric trimmers depending on whether the haircutting manchee (man) had electricity or not. The latter was usually the case, for which the cost would only be 20 cents. But, when dealing with tourists, they just say pay as you please knowing that they would always get more. Getting a clean shave was pretty much the same deal, but it was always done without electricity. The shaving cream always came from a tube, and the razor was always just a razorblade on the end of a metal flipstick.

I was in the mood for a shave, and walking through Pokhara one night, I saw this boy in the clean shave shop, and I thought it would be adventurous to get a shave from a Nepali boy who isn't even old enough to need a shave, so I walked on in. The electricity was out in this part of the city at the time, so we had to light up some candles. I sat down. He threw towel with cartoon characters around my neck, splashed some water on my face, and vigorously rubbed my cheeks to get all those get-ready-for-your-shave skin molecules ready for a clean shave. He got out his magic brush and basted my face with that shaving cream in a tube. He pulled out a pack of fresh razorblades and slapped one on his flipstick.

He began. I asked his name, which I forget now, and then asked him how old he was. He said, "Fourteen," with a huge grin across his face. I said, "Sweet." We talked and joked. The shave came out very nice with him even taking great care to get those little white hairs close to the lips. He wiped a little alcohol bar on my face, and then he offered a massage. He started with my eyelids, worked his way down my shoulders to my hands, and then he did my back. I paid him about $1.50, and the next day I saw him bragging to his friends about how much he got from that foreigner over there. I didn't do the best job in the world of discouraging child labour, but I sure got a nice shave out of it.

Back in Black

2007-12-11T14:38:00.000-08:00

I've returned home to the motherland so to speak. Every time someone asks me how my trip was, I can never think of any better way to state it than, "wonderful." It really was wonderful. I've created friendships that will probably last a lifetime. I've had experiences that I never even dreamed of. My eyes have been opened again to a whole new way of looking at the world, and though this new perspective is hard to describe, it is and will be until it is added on to by another new experience.

Some of the best changes I've had are because of the simple-minded life I lived over there. Daily duties are dedicated towards survival, and it's not necessarily an issue related to worrying about if you will have enough food and water or a place to sleep. Rather, it's simply that you dedicate your daily efforts towards sustaining yourself, your family, and your livestock. You have to gather vegetables for each meal, get a fire going, cook your daal bhat (veggies and rice), walk your buffalo, cut grass for your buffalo, milk your buffalo, harvest rice and millet, and of course, make your tea. Anyways, I think you get the idea. It was a lot of physical strain, but not a lot of mental strain... just the opposite of most Americans.

Perhaps my new simple-minded approach to things will make for some fun blogposts later on, but in the meantime, I want to dedicate more entries to my experiences over there from adventure to cultural insight to various little stories. I may not be able to captivate you the way Alexandre Dumas did Parisians, but I'll give it a shot.

Farewell Ceremony

2007-11-19T23:25:00.000-08:00

I said my farewells to everyone at my school 10 days ago. It was the last day of class before another big festival (Tihar). I knew it would be my last day, so I did not hold back from teaching every elementary class and filling them with card games, The Hokey Pokey, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes, and Duck Duck Goose. At the end of the day, they had a farewell ceremony planned for me.

All the students lined up in the schoolyard as if for morning formation, and the teachers put a throne for the Sugar King up on the hill in front. The headmaster gave a charming speech in Nepali which included words like "Sugar Land, Texas" and "big smile," then I was given a chance to talk. I gave one last huge "Namaste!" returned with another huge "Namaste!" by all the students. Further taking advantage of this opportunity, I continued with "How are you?" knowing they would all reply with "I am fine!" which did indeed follow. I gave my farewell speech of gratitude and expressions of love for them and the wonderful time they gave me. All by translation of the English teacher of course.

They had me sit back on my throne, and the head teachers proceeded to give me a gold silk scarf and one huge red tikka all over my forehead, face, and neck. Here's a photo of the man they call the "Guru" giving me a tikka. The rest were given by Yam, Krishna, and Bishnu. Then the ceremony continued with me walking down the lines of students to receive a flower or mala (flower necklace) from all four to five hundred of them. I can't put into words how wonderful it was. I left each staff member a daily planner as a farewell gift, and there is now a Texas postcard adorning the office wall as well. I said my goodbye's to each teacher, gathered my things, and sadly left the school of so many good memories of recent days.

Dasain! ("Dah sine")

2007-10-22T23:15:00.000-07:00

Happy Dasain! It is the middle of a 15-day festival here, the biggest one of the year, so families are getting together with relatives coming from as far away as America. On the eighth day of the festival, every family bought a goat for about $60 US and sacrificed it by cutting its head off with hopefully one blow of a kind of heavy knife (an "aussi" or whatever is the biggest chunk of metal you can find). Pretty much every part of the goat is saved for eating except the hair and skin, with the exception of the head, which is torched/BBQ'ed with the hair on. Due to the ease of cooking, the lungs are eaten as an appetizer, served in boiled goat blood. For the main course, my family and I finished off the rest of the respiratory system and connecting parts. We've had goat curry with our rice for the past 5 meals, and not all pieces of meat are equally enjoyable. Some of it just seems to be pure bone, and being that things are not very well lit at night, I'm sure I've downed some goat scalp, goat hair, bone bits, and odd parts of the digestive system at some point (yep, everything from esophagus to colon is eaten). It's really not all the bad. I only complain about the goat fat that solidifies all over your fingers since the Nepali spoon is nothing but your hand. Everybody washes it all off, but still.

Day 9 is fairly relaxed. If you have not built a massive swing by now, today is the day. Every village builds at least one swing (called "ping" - ironic for all u golfers). Depending on your resources, it consists of 4 huge bamboo poles set up fairly vertically and a crossbar bamboo pole to tie the rope to that makes the swing. From crossbar to ground is usually about 30 ft, so it may be said that they don't mess around. It's done by standing on the swing instead of sitting, which can make an American or any foreigner for that matter look fairly uncoordinated. There's really not much concern for safety in their minds, making me and them a lot alike. They often swing to about 90 degrees and sometimes with 2 people at a time. I saw an older lady give it a go. She was definitely older than sixty, but with no fear, she gave it an ambitious effort but lost control, gripping the rope as her heels smacked and dragged along the dirt. She kind of went unconscious for some moments, but she turned out alright.

Day 10 was sweet. It kind of felt like Christmas Eve the night before with Silina and Pramila chanting Bholi Dasain ("Tomorrow Dasain"), so waking up that morning had a lot of holiday excitement. The porch was being set up with sliced apples and bananas, roti/bread rings, pink rice (as you see in the picture) for giving tikkas on the forehead, money, jamara leaves, spitual water, and of course, more rice. Children receive tikkas from the adults in the family, receiving wishes and blessings for long life, good friends, great joy, and good health. They then get a money bill and some food and move on to the next house. Some children get very much into it, going to as many as fifty houses, so it kind of felt like a mix between Halloween and Christmas. I went to about five cause I was having too much fun at the Ping. At one point the grandfather put holy cow manure over my door and on a post in my room. It's still there.

P.S. - I am uploading more photos to my google account because it takes forever to load to my blog, and they can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com/Richard.Rigby.Jr.

Ode to the Himalayas

2007-10-18T06:26:00.000-07:00

So I just got back from the ABC trek in the Himalayas. It was sweet, but man there were a lot of stairs. Every night was staying in a 'hotel' - room and bed and tea and meals. If they get you in the mood, you might even do the Haka for them or commence a karaoke party with all nationalities involved, both of which I succombed to. Still a good way to enjoy the Himalayas no matter how much you want to simply focus on nature.

I kinda blew out my right knee (I know I know, there's always some sort of something wrong with me all the time, but there were so many stairs. Like, they could not just build a trail that followed the river. It had to go 2,000 stairs up to one village to give them business, then 2,000 stairs down to the river (it always had a sweet bridge though) then 2,000 stairs up to the next village to give them business and so on), so I'll do less trekking after volunteering and more kayaking, elephant riding and bungee jumping, maybe.

Life on the trail was sweet though. Pretty much half the people were Nepali porters carrying tons of anything from coke bottles to computer monitors on their back between the villages wearing nothing but flip flops and sometimes just in their bare feet. It's also pretty amazing what kind of food you might get... pizza, macaroni, spaghetti, omelettes, dhal baat of course, the mind-blowing snickers spring roll, and the soon-to-be-world-famous gurung (or tibetan) bread. I learned how to make that and the snickers spring roll, and holy shnikes you are in for a trip if i get to make it for u.

I saw a yak 30 minutes before it was 'sacrificed'. They said the meat was really tasty. There were also goats everywhere since every family needs one for the ongoing festival which involves a goat sacrifice tomorrow. More on that to come. Sorry only one pic. It just takes forever.

Richardisation

2007-10-11T02:51:00.000-07:00

(This might considered a ridiculous post by many of you.)

Globalisation is the term scholars and street junkies use to describe the intermingling of cultures that serves to almost homogenise the ways of life in the world, if not to at least result in the influence of some cultures on many others. Because of America's influence in the world, many think that globalisation is really just Americanisation. And with its often negative implications, it it sometimes referred to as McDonaldisation. Well, it seems that I've been an influence in the world as well, and whether it be intentionally or unintentionally, I will leave up to the rabbits to decide (Why? because they have rabbit feet, and supposedly they have some magical power). Anyways, this entry is about Richardisation, and I use the "s" for a literary purpose and because a certain country I am very fond of uses it insted of "z/zed" for many things.

My village, Sarangkot, just finished up "Sarangkot Idol" (Indian Idol is very popular over here especially since a Nepalese dude just won it). They had me, as the guest of honor, sing a song at the end. I chose "Hold my Hand" by Hootie and the Blowfish since already kind of popular among stories told about me in trips abroad, but there was no 40 yr old kiwi lady serenaded to this time. More importantly, a girl named Laxmi won a bunch of CocaCola flavoured candies and gave me one. As a side note, they performed this at 8am on a Saturday morning. That does not fit very well with my American expectations of when a singing contest should be performed. But, they children have to spend the rest of the day cutting grass for their family's buffalo to eat and to get, yes get, their weekly shower, which I've adopted as a routine as well. The first 3-4 days of going without a shower get kind of annoying, but after that, you feel like you could go for weeks comfortably without a shower. Thus showering has become somewhat bittersweet for me. There's more on my hygeine that I could get into, but I'll spare you.

There is also, of course, the random, "What the heck is Richard doing?", and I guess that is how this village man ended up wearing my sunglasses in that pic. Nice guy though. I like his family, too. They have a daughter named Radika and a son Barat. It's too bad though the pic with my sideways hat on him did not turn out.

Yesterday, I performed the Haka about 8 times in the past 24 hrs and still kind of lightheaded from it. Locations ranged from classrooms to village roads and forests. The kids and open-minded adults love it. I've been teaching my classes with a "Camp Ozark Morning Show" kind of structure, which includes themes like pull-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks (using only 2 fingers, of course); International Food; Country of the Day; Famous People; and bien sur, Sports and Inspiration. Every title is yelled by me in some sort of funky, or what Superdaved would think to be harmonic, rhythm, and they must repeat (dohoryaunus). They also ask for a song, and the best one I can recite by heart is Fresh Prince of Bellaire by Will Smith. It does not occur here without some sort of ghetto-ing of the outfit of course. I must use earphones to perform Yellow by Coldplay, which I'll perform for you upon request if you really want. It's as good as the Chowmein in China. Around the World is another sort of favorite among the schoolchildren, and the last time it was performed, I used a boy's forearm as a microphone. He nearly lost all circulation by the end of it all. I really got into it.

When I call role, I like to have the students at my fingertips. Instead of replying with "Here," "Present," or "Gifted" (as Travis Handerson loved to do in 6th grade Choir and I think once or twice in 6th grade English). No, instead they gladly recite whatever I put on the board, which has included "Go the All Blacks," "Go 'stros," and "Go Caddo." If you have any requests, send them to me, and I will try to serve them before my time is up here. I sometimes get video footage of it, too.

That's honestly all I can think of right now in terms of Richardisation. There's probably more, but they just don't come to mind right now or completely evade my awareness. I cannot complete this post without also mentioning that I am not without my own influences, thus influencing others at the mercy of Richardisation, but it starts to hurt if you think about the matter too much. That dude who wrote Blue Like Jazz and Searching for God Knows What, Donald Miller, who I would like to later write an entry about after all this Nepal stuff is said and done. Well, it may never be all said, but, you know the phrase. I am reading The Three Musketeers right now, and I certainly cannot say that is not influencing me right now. Alexander Dumas certainly has captivated me on this one. The Count of Monte Cristo was kind of cool, but at the time I read it, I just wanted to settle for the cliffnotes. But this, The Three Musketeers, is really good. I'll confess to this world wide web that I even write down some of the phrases Alex has some of the musketeers say, and don't be surprised if I pull one out on you when I get back. Furthermore, I've always thought of myself as a Renaissance/Bohemian guy (I know Bohemiam can have some very negative connotation with it, so you may want further explanation from me at another time and place). So I thought it was this Renaissance side that was pulling me towards this novel, but even though the setting of the story is in the Renaissance period, it was written during the period of Romanticism. I really did not think that the Romantic side of it was getting me, but then yesterday, one of the schoolboys called me a Romantic. I did not ask for further explanation, so it is left as an ambiguous comment, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to say that I am influenced by Bohemia, Renaissance Land, and a little bit by Romanticville. This is getting out of hand. Nepal is influencing me, too, and vice-versa, so we'll call it even on that matter.

*I really wish I could put up more photos for you guys, but it honestly takes about 30 minutes for me to load one photo on these computers. Maybe I'll just go nuts when I get back. It's holiday time now, so school is out of session, and I am going on a 7 day trek into the mountains with my host dad and another volunteer. Hopefully, I be able to show you as least 3 pics from it. Cheers!

Hi Ho

2007-09-29T01:37:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I got sick a week ago, and I spent 3 days in the hospital this week. I am well now, but still suffering a little brain damage and a left side twitch (j/k). I had a 103 fever, lung and intestine viral infections (the coincidence or explanation for that bogs me), pain everywhere, could hardly sleep, and worst of all, no appettite. There were many times I wished they would send me to New Zealand for treatment (I think just being there heals everything). I would like to say that my host dad and his brother Gunaraj were with me every second of the day. Krishna even slept on the table in my room just to stay the nights. Thank you very much to both of them, and all the others who came to visit me or sent me their wishes. Support goes a long way for sick people.

So that left jab kept me out of school for a week, which is very disappointing since I had a great line up for them. I will try to bring the Camp Ozark morning show to each of my classes... will be very crazy. I have been doing the Haka - educationally, of course, if they understand New Zealand, Rugby, War Dance, and YouTube. They get me to sing "In the Jungle" emphasizing the high notes as much as possible. I try to get them to sing "a weema wep," but their english isn't that advanced or retreated enough. The youngsters have me doing the Hokey Pokey with them, and "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" is gaining popularity. I almost tore my ACL playing duck duck goose last week. Thank goodness for Enligh Vocabulary cards. I just sit back, and they eat those things up. It's been a great learning tool even though none of them will probably ever eat a hamburger or taco, or see a flamingo or grizzly bear, or hear anybody use the term greengrocer. Whatever, it's still english.

I saw a big fat/musclely ox jump off a 5 ft ledge onto the road.

The village is having its own little American Idol singing contest. They weeded the contests down to five last week and then unexpectedly asked me to sing a song. Well, the song I know best is "Around the World" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I did not do the song justice as it is my favourite in the world, but they all (30ish villagers) liked it and clapped to the beat. The singing talent here is very cool. When you don't have any games or toys, you can get pretty passionate about your singing. Many little girls write their own songs and dances, and it gives you a happy feeling.

Krishna talked me into cooking the best American food for his family, so I made Mexican food (ya, i know, but it is true, at least for texans). Most importantly, I made it safely, thus preserving US-Nepal relations, unlike some international commotion I caused in my New Zealand apartment. I made quesadillas (with chicken, cheese, sauteed onions, tomatoes, and cucumber), hard chicken tacos, beans, and churrascos (or whatever those desserty breadsticks are called). They all said they loved it, but I know real Mexican food is way better. The quesadilla bread was too Nepali. It took like 4 hours though because of village equipment, so if what village Mexicans make is close to what we eat in the restaurants, they have some dang amazing talent, in addition to a boatload of patience.

Sorry there weren't any pics in my last post. I broke my camera on my first hike to school. It was in my pocket, and I slipped on the edge of the trail with the bulk of my mulk somehow pinpointing the motherboard behind the front panel. I hav now bought a new one, and got some pics for you, inlcuding upside down Silina, the Mexican Fiesta, me and the girls after getting
them some new clothes, and the view from my school.

The Village Life

2007-09-15T21:53:00.000-07:00

I am very excited about this post since it is my first since beginning life in my little village. It began with an eventful journey to where it is on top of a big hill. The amount of rain the area has been receiving has caused many landslides. In fact, about 20 people in the area have died because of it. The roads were severely damaged, but my bus driver was determined to make a profit off of it by being the only one to drive all the way to the top. After pretty much driving over a missing part of the road where there was just mud, rocks, and a newly formed stream, we unimaginably made our way to near the top at a rocking 5 mph. Since we couldn't make it all the way, I stayed the night at a local guest house, whose management kicked an old man (I think their grandfather) out of a room to give me and Krishna, my host dad, a place to sleep. Well, the grandfather left his big black dog chained up under Krishna's bed, and in the middle of the night, the thing let loose in the most terrifying rampage of beyond-belief barking, sending me into the most bone-chilled state I think any earthly human has ever experienced. I was completely frozen, and with my back turned towards the barking, it seemed to resonate the most with my tailbone for some reason, making it feeling like it was turning to ice, and specifically, that kind of ice that they serve at Sonic drive-ins that crumbles upon the slightest pressure of a bicuspid.

We hiked to the village the next morning, and it has been blissful since. I have witnessed a goat sacrifice, which seemed more like a event for the owner to make some money by selling off the body parts than a religious ritual. The going about of it was captivating really. A big pot of water was heated to boiling to help with the plucking of hair (I guess so that the skin could be preserved, since they waste not a single body part). The head was taken off with one slash of a big ugly scythe-ish sword. The blood was collecting, I think for frying later. The gutting was jaw-dropping (which isn't uncommon for me evidenced by pictures from Tonga), but still, the intestines (which I later ate some of) were cleaned out with water and mouth-to-intestine blowing. Enough. but here's interesting article my good friend Kenny sent me (http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSEIC47086020070905).

My typical meals have been Dhal Baat, which I am developing quite the appetite for. I usually use silverware, but I have also used the "Nepali Spoon" - my hand, like most of the villagers and Nepalese for that matter. My host family's (water) buffalo gave birth this week, so the dad is very happy. He is a fascinating person. He adheres to Nepali customs, but he shares his own opinion of matters quite often. There is another volunteer next door to us from Holland. It is very fortunate that she so close in a village where the homes are so far apart. Her name is Heidi, and Krishna (my host dad), Heidi, and I share wonderful discussions on our take on life and our universes.

Krishna speaks good English, and he makes many jokes. Because of his accent, many of the things he says remind me of Borat, and for those of you familiar with him, know that I can be quite amused by that correlation. Krishna is a teacher, and I teach at his school. The staff wanted the goods I brought to be presented as a gift in front of the whole school (about 500 students) during morning formation. They call it morning prayer, but it is quite militaristic, so I call it a formation. I told them that these were supplies that my friends, family, and church in America wanted to give them because we believe that with good materials, they can become wonderful students and successful individuals, and because we love them. The name "Chinni Raja" has carried over to the school, and that is quite popularly my name now, making Chinni Land even more famous world-wide. Teaching is difficult, but I am feeling that their learning of English is extremely important to their success after school. Their is much work to be done in their English learning, and I hope that I can help with that as much as possible.

I would like to end with talking about my host family, for they are the main reason life here has been blissful. Krishna supports his parents, who live with us. The Grandpa is a grumpy old man who refuses to speak English or learn any part of it. I'm amused by it though. The Grandmother is very funny little lady with a rough around the edges attitude. She tried on my Oakleys and had fun with that. (My Oakleys were trampled on two days ago when they fell off as Heidi and I were being dragged through a crowd to dance in front of hundreds of villagers at a women's festival because they think our Nepali dancing is good. It was a blast though.) Krishna is wonderful as I've told you. His wife works very hard, as do all the women in Nepal - the patriarchal side of things can be very distasteful at times. Most of all, the three young daughters have been the best part of my experience here. They are 5, 8, and 10. Silina, Praamila, and Prativa, respectively. Silina and Praamila love to sing and dance. They push my watch, and when it lights up, I launch them into the air or tickle them if I've tired. We all four walk to school together everyday (which really is a 40 min hike), and those moments make me wish the hike could last forever. All in all, I must say that if this is not a beautiful life I am living, it certainly is a wonderful dream.

So long, Bob!

2007-09-06T08:13:00.000-07:00

Tonight is my last in Kathmandu for a while. The sightseeing has been wonderful, and my new friends will be missed. But, the 5'9" doorways and being 6" taller than everyone else is sure to follow me wherever I go in this country. We have visited more of both Hindu and Buddhist temples since those are the main attractions in this city. It is certainly different being in a country where 90% of the people have the same religion. It's very peaceful, but at the same time, leaves very little room for skepticism. The rest of the country is pretty much Buddhist, and the two groups live very harmoniously, visiting each other's temples. I've talked to Hindus about their religion, and the beliefs they have can either serve the some of the same functions as ours in the West or be seen as being entirely different. Reincarnation, for example, can make you want to live a good life and serve your god(s) in order to receive a good next life, and it can make you feel like life on earth is the only life there is (and eternity for you will thus be spent on this earth), which may or may not be a peaceful thought depending on the life you live. I'm not an expert enough to go much deeper into such discussion, so I will stick to what I know.

Today, Rabyn, my volunteer coordinator, took me around the city on his motorbike to visit one of the local orphanages that some of the goods and donated money will go towards. There were 11 beautiful children sharing four rooms and a stairwell. The volunteer there has painted some of the walls with children's art to make it pretty. The plumbing is poor and the floors need carpet, so Rayn thinks we can put some of the $540 towards that. He will be able to let us know how all that money will be used after he talks to all the orphanages. We've divided up the donated goods about half and half for the orphanages and schools, and it will be distributed next week. Again, I can't thank you guys enough for all the donations. The good it is doing here is beyond words.

My time here thusfar has been unforgettable. Taxi rides are an adventure. They are all miniature Suzukis, and taxi drivers really only need about half an inch to between themselves and the car or motorcycle that they are passing or is coming from the other direction. You use your horn instead of a blinker so you don't run over anyone around the corner. They're aren't any traffic rules. Just every man for himself, and if a byway doesn't look too muddy, go ahead and take it. I would love to try my hand at it myself if I could drive stick better. I've gotta wear a bandana over my nose and mouth whether I'm on a motorcycle or in a taxi because the air pollution is so rough on my allergies.

I leave for my placement tomorrow, so I will be only able my blog every so often since Sarangkot is somewhat isolated, and I only get one day off a week. I've not adopted the "water wipe" technique (yet), so I'm packing toilet paper. On a cleaner subject, I've been labeled with the name "Chinni Raja" (meaning Sugar King), and supposedly I have 500 wives in Chinni Land. Lord Krishna's birthday was celebrated over the past 2 days, and he has 1600 wives, so they think we would be good buds. The festivities included a lot of dancing and singing. It was a very joyous time for the city. I also saw some incineration cremations at a Hindu temple. It occurs right on the river banks, so they just knock the ashes into the river. I attached pictures for y'all to see.

Namaste! (Nah mess stay)

2007-09-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

I have 2 more days of language training and cultural sightseeing in Kathmandu before I head off to my placement, which is Sarangkot (Sar ong coat). Sarangkot is a village about a 2 hour hike or 3 hour bus ride N/NW of Pokhara. It has a beautiful view of the Himayalas behind either a threaded riverbed or a glassy lake... take your pick. School is 5 1/2 days a week, so I get 1 1/2 days off a week. I don't know much else about the situation other than I will be living a pretty rustic life except for that day and a half I can use to go mountain biking, kayaking, rafting, trekking, paragliding, sailboating, etc. I buzzed my head so I don't have to deal with hair hygiene. I wish I had left a little tuft of hair in some random spot so I could blend in with the hippies more here. Oh well.

Meanwhile, learning the language and learning about the culture has been very intriguing. Scott and I have been able to cover some very interesting issues with our teacher, Yuzeena, who has lived her whole life in Kathmandu and takes a great interest in not only her culture but others. We've talked about everything from love to politics. Arranged marriages still occur over here though most are love marriages, and unfortunately, I think arranged marriages still happen in the States but in a different way. We all know about US Politics, but over here, there is a temporary parliament in place that rules in conjunction with the king. In November, the country will vote to determine if Nepal will be ruled by democracy or monarchy. Most everyone wants a democracy, so I guess it's just a matter of whether or not the king will try to pull some stunt like arresting all the members of parliament, which he did a few years ago, to give himself ultimate rule.

I've finally got a picture for y'all of all the donations I received from family and friends to bring with me to Nepal to give to the orphanages and schools that Hope & Home sponsors. I got everything from Dr. Seuss to Charles Dickens and Crayolas to Crest. Thank you so much. Hope & Home is very appreciative of all of it.

Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band

2007-09-01T05:58:00.000-07:00

I arrived yesterday in Kathmandu and stayed with my friend Kaushal's family the first night. They were very generous, and I really appreciate their help. Other than that, I just started training today. I got here the same time as another volunteer - Scott from Canada. It's just us two, and we learned some phrases today and visited the local Monkey Temple. I'll get some pics up as soon as I figure out how. This is a very different culture from what we have in the US. Males sometimes walk around holding hands, and that carries no sexual overtones. (It's supposedly the same throughout most of southeast Asia.) In fact homosexuality is very rare over here, so I can't take it the wrong way when a guy gets touchy feely with me. Cows are common in the streets. Can't drink the water. Gotta try not to get run over by a taxi or motorbike being that there is no real distinction between the sidewalk and the road. All in all, it's a culture shock at the present, but I am lookign forward to immersing myself in this beautiful land.

2007-08-26T21:08:00.000-07:00

My bags are packed, and my wings are ready. Nepal is right around the corner. I have an 18 hour layover in Bangkok before I get to Kathmandu on 31 Aug, so Bangkok is gonna get a little Richard Rigby, Jr. for a little while. I have about 100 lbs worth of books, Bibles, paper, pencils, dental supplies, and more to give to the schools and orphanage that Hope & Home sponsors, all courtesy of family and friends. Thank you so very much for all that. I can't wait to give it away. I also want to say a big thank you to all my sponsors out there. I have raised $2,740 of the $3,000 it will cost to make this trip possible. $200 of that has already been spent on English Language and Grammar books for children trying to learn English as a second language, and I plan to help Hope & Home by donating $540 to help the orphanage with whatever needs that they need met. God is so good, and I can't wait to give you guys updates on my experiences over there.

Summer Fun

2007-08-22T13:52:00.000-07:00

After a long, hard summer in the caddyshak at Vaquero CC, it was time for some real fun. I threw my bike in Ghost, and we headed out to the Palo Duro Canyon for a night and a morning. It was some sweet biking, and I only had one wipeout. After stumbling across a fellow horned frog, I arrived at the canyon's main event, The Lighthouse Formation.

It was a little too steep for me to climb, so I climbed its neighbor and took in the views. All that hard work was worthy of a good, hearty snack, and fortunately I'm not allergic to tarantulas.

YUM YUM!

Then I said, "So long, Texas!" I crossed the border to see my New Mexican friend, Meg. She's way out in Gallup, which by the way is great place. The people in her neighborhood sleep with their front doors open 'cause it's so safe, and the weather's great. Neither of us went to church that week, so we thought we'd make up for it by making a pilgrimage to the mecca of Gallup, Church Rock. We brought her sick dog, Akaroa (It's KiwiFrench), along, too, hoping for some healing so I wouldn't have to wake up the next morning with her sneezing in my face.

So I said, "So long New Mexico. Here I come Colorado!" I'd never been to this mysterious land before, but doggone-it it's pretty. I met up with my friend Michael and his family in Durango, and we boarded a train to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere, where we headed for the Chicago Basin. And let me tell you, this place is like the Disneyland of Outdoors. Now, I've never been to Disneyland, but I think it has more rocks and waterfalls than Disney World, so I think I hit the nail on the head with that literary tool. I climbed my first 3 14-ers (14k ft.) ever. Now, though many of you out there think I'm an expert when it comes to mountains, I'm not quite there yet (Give it 443 more hours and 23 minutes). But, I must say, the mountains in New Zealand were pristine , but these things in Colorado were like Wild Monsters! They look they don't care whose in their way, they're gonna emerge from the earth and stake their claim whether you like it or not. In more understandable terms, they have big boulders. Anyways, it was an amazing time - Cheers to Haveman Family! Here are some pics...

Welcome to Colorado!

Man those Mtns are Tall!

All aboard!

The Haveman girls!

The beautiful Chicago Basin

Twin Lakes

Sunlight Pinnacles & Mount Windom

All Hail, The Domain of Wind!

Superhero Pose

Sunlight Pinnacles

The view from Mount Eolus

True Cliffhanger

We were trapped

Like I said, those mountains were tall!

Bienvenue!

2007-08-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the blog of Richard Rigby, Jr! Most of you are viewing this in response to the fundraising letters that I sent out for my volunteer trip to Nepal. I would first like to say thank you very much for your help. I will try to keep you updated through this blog as often as possible, but frankly, I don't think I'll be able to access the internet all that often because I will be in a remote village. I will try to send postcards to all of you out of appreciation for your prayers and support.

For those of you who aren't caught up, I am leaving August 29 for Nepal to volunteer teach in a village school for at least 2 months. I return November 29, so I will leave the last few weeks to do some exploring on my own. The education system is pretty bad there right now because it is difficult to get teachers in the remote villages, which are many, and government funding for public education is pretty poor. Ergo, I am raising money and collecting goods for the program that I am volunteering with, Hope & Home (http://www.hopenhome.org). These includes goods such as school books (english grammar, math, health, and science), novels, paper, and pens/pencils. The program also sponsors an orphanage, for which I am also collecting dental hygiene goods, clothes, games, and colouring books.

I am extremely excited for this trip. Having grown up doing a lot of world traveling, I am very interested in different cultures. I studied abroad in New Zealand last year, and I honestly knew next to nothing about the home of the All Blacks before I went (only that there was a course named Cape Kidnappers there, which I wrote a poem about. I'll share it with you sometime). It turned out to be possibly the most wonderful experience of my life thus far. Ergo, I am now interested in doing more world travel and immersing myself in other cultures. When the study abroad program took our group to Tonga (South Pacific, next to Fiji) for a week, we visited a school, and I had so much fun with those children, that I feel that volunteer teaching in Nepal would be a great way to spend some time abroad.