Montana Agriculture and Rural Communities: An Investigation in the Field

Mid-June I went on an excursion with ten other people that brought us to ranchers, farmers, community organizers, chefs, and other characters involved in the food system here in Montana. It was over a week of driving across this great reaching state and it brought us to the homes, lands, and workplaces of many an interesting soul.

Day 1
Two hundred miles brought us to Montana State University in Bozeman, where we met several professors, undergrads, and post-docs working under the freshly minted Sustainable Food and Bioenergy Systems Degree. Another 90 some miles through rolling grasslands brought us to the Moe Ranch. With their house beautifully set beside the Musselshell River, the Moes are trying to diversify beyond their already successful ranching enterprise so that they can continue to make a living on the land and make that an option for their children, something most families can no longer do. They're leasing land to a wind energy entrepreneur and have purchased a Montana grain and cereal distribution company with another couple.



Day 2
We visited a nearby Hutterite colony to check out their garden, cement mixing plant, wind turbines, and kitchen/water recycling complex. It was intriguing to see the way they too are trying to diversify and use their resources wisely to maintain the lifestyle of the 143 people, just over 30 families, living on the colony.



We then toured the Cream of the West operation (an almost 100 year old business here in Montana) the Moes (and business partners) have brought to Harlowton to provide a few jobs in town and more diversity in their business plans. Following our time with them, we set off for Shepherd, about 35 minutes north of Billings, to the Charter Ranch, where we set up tents for the night. Watch out for rattlesnakes and cacti!

Day 3
Our morning with the Charters was full of animated discussion about coal mining, cattle ranching, decentralization, carbon sequestration, and sustainable food production activism. As you have probably guessed, this isn't the average ranching conversation in rural Montana. Nor are these your average ranchers. With a deep sense of connection with the land, the cattle, the neighboring ranchers, and a desire to fight for and work hard to promote what is good and right, the Charters make differences every day with the way they have chosen to stay on and treat the land.



A short drive through Billings and into neighboring Laurel brought us to a century-old corner diner, the Owl Cafe. As you might expect, this restaurant had become a cornerstone of the community. So when a hometown boy returned from culinary school with the idea of bringing real, good, and local food to the menu, not everyone was pleased. Dirk Frickel brought us back into his kitchen and for the next hour, he and his friend, Eric Trager of Bridgecreek Backcountry Kitchen (another local food advocate and chef, although located in upscale Red Lodge), stepped us through the cooking process of the entire meal. And man, was it delicious! Grilled local asparagus salad with organic cottage bacon, smoked almonds, and Parmesan cheese. Grilled Sweetgrass lamb skewers with garam masala, creamed lentils, and fried organic goat cheese croquettes (new favorite!) with local rhubarb chutney. Tomato basil granita. And to round it all off, organic ricotta goat cheese crepes with Grand Marnier and fresh berries. OooEee.

Day 4
We had the pleasure of seeing and discussing the massive Sysco distribution enterprise in Billings (it's strange to think that there are hundreds more warehouses like it around the country). It brought to home the importance of sale and transportation of food, weather it is grown locally or traveling thousands of miles to your plate in a restaurant, hospital, school, or other institution.



A short afternoon drive to Billings brought us to the beautiful LEED Platinum Certified offices of the Northern Plains Resource Council and the Western Organization of Resource Councils, organizing and leadership training ordinary citizens to protect their water quality, family farms and ranches, and rural communities.
220 miles (and a stop at the famous Montana bar in Miles City) to Makoshika State Park to sleep with the dinosaur bones.



Day 5
In Glendive, we spent the morning seeing the myriad projects an extension agent and local food supporters were working on. From a community garden, to a food and marketing co-op, to hopes for a commercial kitchen, restaurant, and cooking school. Very inspiring and overwhelming.



We spent the afternoon and evening at the Hoff farm, visiting in their garden and beside the Yellowstone river. Alvin grows beans, Dena tends the gardens. They have various ducks and chickens and at least one hundred sheep. He loves projects like his rhubarb wine and showing off the latest graft on a tiny apple tree.



They've raised a houseful of kids and plenty of good food. You wouldn't know she is off in far flung regions of the world representing family farms through Via Campesina and as president of the National Family Farm Coalition (her involvement began with local and regional organizations like those in Glendive and Billings). We all enjoyed a nice dinner in a little cabin on the other side of the vast bean fields at the edge of the river before heading out.



Day 6
We arrived at the Waller's farm in Circle, about 70 miles northwest of Glendive. Helen welcomed us to sit at her table and on the floral sofas in her living room. We had sandwiches and lemonade while we waited for her husband to come in. They'd been married for...was it 59 years? The sense of grandparent calm and familiarity was broken when after we finished our lunch and sat around her and his armchair she cut through the cool room with a booming, passionate voice about her involvement with the last several farm bills, the corruption riddling those who should be creating policies to help the people growing the nation's food (instead, loyalty and power goes to the corporation that lobbies and donates the most), and the ineffective structure of current farm policy. Intense. Frustrating. She's a great surprise of a woman, and she's proud of the photo of her and Willie Nelson on the fridge.



Day 7
We spent a stormy night at Fort Peck and spoke with the American Prairie Foundation, facing much strife in the community around Malta and their project site, in the morning.
Our evening was spent on the Matador Ranch with the Program Director of Northern Montana Prairies, learning about how the Nature Conservancy is partnering with local ranchers to promote habitat and wildlife conservation of some of the most contiguous mixed grass prairies in the world.



Day 8
Our original plan was to visit Prairie Heritage Farm in Conrad, where a young couple is making a good go of it, but it will have to wait for another day. We went home to Missoula. :)

What Rain Brings

Another wet week on the farm has brought plenty of water to the vegetables, but also to the weeds. A challenge we often face, good comes with bad. It is what we make of it.

We visited Ploughshare Farm this week, in Moiese (not to be confused with Ploughshare in Parker's Prairie, where I apprentinced summer 2007). Two former PEAS students moved to the 18 acres with their young son and now have an adorable daughter to help with the work of growing tomato starts, shallots, Jerusalem Artichokes, Indian Corn, and a variety of greens and things for markets. A few goats and chickens add to the fun, too. They are members of the Western Montana Growers Co-op, and Homegrown, the Montana Sustainable Farmers Union. Both of these organizations help with the steep financial investment and logistical issues associated with organic certification (or lack thereof due to cost and how well it suits tiny operations), produce distribution, and sales.



After another good soaking this weekend, we were left with a gift atop our neighbor, Mt. Jumbo. If you look closely, there is a second, lighter, larger rainbow.



This is our garage, house, fantastic Subaru, Charlie's kayak (shall we take it down the Rattlesnake and into the Clark Fork?), and Mt. Jumbo across the way.



We're pretty happy, double full rainbows or not.

Woohoo Missoula!

A mountain outside the living room, a rushing creek next door, a 10 acre farm every morning, and plenty of work to do.



We're settling in in Missoula, MT, where I've come to study and practice writing, ecology, and sustainable agriculture in an environmental studies graduate program.

This summer, I spend my mornings working at the PEAS farm with about twenty other young people, and my afternoons working on a quilt of other projects.



John has moved out with me and secured a sweet job at a local nonprofit that gets high school students involved in research and field studies in Yellowstone, the Galapagos, Mexico, and Costa Rica.

We hope to spend our weekends hiking in the mountains, but so far it's been unusually rainy (my Wellies from the Grand Marais Recycle Store were well worth the quarter I paid for them and have kept at least my feet quite warm and dry in the muddy beds), so we've done things like can tomatoes (to ready ourselves for the big fall harvest ahead), make mozzarella (because it's so easy and delicious), and wait for our homebrew to be trucked out to us with my parents when they come out to visit us in July.



Every Friday, instead of working in the fields, we have a bit of classroom time about a certain aspect of farming (soils last Friday) and visit a working farmer or other member of the food system (Lifeline most recently). This past field trip was such an inspiring experience (something I tend to feel whenever visiting the homes, lives, studios, and lands of a practicing craftsperson or foodgrower).

Lifeline Produce has been functioning in some form since the late 1970's. Now run by Steve Elliot and Luci Brieger and two apprentices, they grow 9 acres in mixed vegetables, flowers, and herbs, plus 8 in hay for livestock (manure makers!), 29 acres in permanent pasture, a greenhouse, a hoop house, chickens, ewes, and a few beef cattle. Between them and a related, but separately-run dairy, stores in and around Missoula are stocked with delicious, local, wonderful food and plants. Hard work, ingenuity, and pursuing real, good things makes for a great life.



Fun!

Where Delicious, FRESH Meals are the Norm

Bryant Lake Bowl, a trendy theater/bowling alley/restaurant in Uptown Minneapolis is many things to many people. It’s easy to walk by the narrow benches lining the windows out front, where people chat and snack, or the small wooden tables one navigates upon entering the multipurpose space. It’s easy because there are destinations beyond them…a night of raucous bowling with friends at the back… or a performance, book club meeting, or concert in the theater tucked off to the side.

Today, however, the food was my destination and the restaurant definitely stopped me in my tracks. With locally sourced meats listed on the blackboard of specials, I sat down with a couple of friends and a menu, daring it to get the best of me. A note on the first page reads: “Bryant Lake Bowl is proud to be a composter..." and goes on to describe what and how they compost, in addition to listing community resources to learn more about composting and a list of other restaurants who have hopped on the wagon. This week, celebrating the 40th anniversary of Earth Day, Bryant Lake Bowl isn’t going out of their way to have (buzzword!) sustainably-sourced menu items; it’s the norm.

My friend was delighted to see that most meals were prepared meatless and included a surcharge for the addition seafood, chicken, beef, or pork products. “I always feel like I’m subsidizing meat-eaters! This makes so much sense,” she delighted, glad that her vegetarianism found a fair home.

Overwhelmed by so many local, organic, and otherwise delicious options, I asked my waitress what she recommended in the vein of healthy-for-the-earth, healthy-for-the-community, healthy-for-me options. She noted that although most produce wasn’t in season yet here in chilly Minnesota, the majority of it was organic. We settled on the Asparagus Risotto with fresh herbs and arugula and I never looked back.


It came out heaped in a shallow bowl, all ivory, fresh, and green. The combination of herbs and greens lent the dish an unusually great depth of flavor, while the risotto’s smooth creaminess could only be attributed to some form of heavenly dairy. It didn’t last long. I was scraping the bottom of my bowl when across from me I saw a poster hanging on the window from another restaurant in town advertising their special Farm to Table dinners this week. I was pleased to see that they were supporting a partner in the movement for good real food, but I smiled at the fact that here, there is no need to advertise that type of special.

And finally, a note on their website gives credit to several of the producers that are an integral part of their business:
“BLB strives to present locally sourced products on our menu, from farms such as Alexis Bailly Vineyards, Silver Bison Ranch, Moonstone Farm, Pastures O' Plenty, Tim Fischer Farm, Star Prairie Trout Farm, and Larry Schultz. We have been in a process of moving toward making our business as sustainable and earth-friendly as possible for many years now. If you have any suggestions for us, please send us an email, we'd love to hear from you!”


So stop in, give it a try, and let them know what you think. www.bryantlakebowl.com

FRESH

A whirlwind weekend of events surrounding the return of the award winning film FRESH fill mid-April in Minneapolis to the brim with farm-to-table dinners, lectures, workshops, screenings, and all sorts of other fun things.

To kick it all off, a discussion at LOCUS Architecture brought MPR's Mark Wheat, the Birchwood Cafe's Tracy Singleton, and Riverbend Farm owner Greg Reynold's together in Northeast Minneapolis.



Sunday morning was a true spring day in the Seward neighborhood, with tulips yawning open all yellow and pink. An intimate brunch hosted by Tracey of the Birchwood attracted a fantastic variety of guests (mayor? yes! state representative? yes! filmmaker? of course! lunatic farmer? how could you not!), good food, and conversation.



The Bell Museum of Natural History on the U of M campus attracted a lecture hall full of interested citizens, farmers, students, mothers, and everyone in between. Joel Salatin, of Polyface Farm and Omnivore's Dilemma fame, gave two animated lectures. A reception between them was held in a gallery fittingly showing a special exhibit of Hungry Planet: What the World Eats, an exhibit that combines beautiful photographs concerning food culture all over the globe and a bit of history about how that has changed, particularly in Westernized countries, toward processed and fast food.



And that's just the start! Head over to www.freshthemovie.com to learn more about the film, Joel, and all involved.

Don't miss any of this week's events or screenings. Check out the Minneapolis itinerary! There is something for everyone and plenty of good real food.

Policy & A Pint

Minnesota Public Radio's the Current is heading up to my alma mater tomorrow night to collide a couple of my worlds and hold a very important discussion on the culture of food.



Gary Brever of Ploughshare Farm, which was named 2009 Edible Twin Cities' Local Hero for Best Farm, will be speaking on air with Diane Veale-Jones, who has recently moved from the nutrition department at CSB/SJU to the growing environmental studies department, before everyone's favorite DJ, Mark Wheat, spins a few tunes and Chris Koza performs live.

Whoa!!!

I worked on Gary's farm and lived with him and his family in Parkers Prairie, MN one summer not so long ago, getting my hands dirty and my mind into the practice and business of organic/sustainable farming. The days and weeks were long, but so rewarding, and my time at Ploughshare has instilled in me a dedication to the communities of people working hard for healthy food, ecosystems, and local economies. Additionally, Gary brought to it his passion for social justice, something that was clearly intertwined with food and poverty in the senior seminar course I took with...you guessed it...Diane Veale-Jones!

I'll try to make it, but I'll be dropping John off at the airport for his spring break in the Mountains for the first half, so I hope you catch it all and fill me in. It will be fun to catch up with old friends...and maybe sneak in some syruping in the Arboretum's sugar bush for old time's sake.

See the MPR page about the event, co-presented by the Eugene J. McCarthy Center for Public Policy and Civic Engagement: http://minnesota.publicradio.org/about/press/releases/release.php?ftrv_ident=2010/03/15/currentnight

Spring Catalog Out

A welcome sight to see! Twice a year, North House sends out its catalog of traditional craft courses. Want to make your own mukluks? House? Boat? Not on the mailing list? Go here: http://www.northhouse.org/catalog.htm to get thorough class listings, a calendar, instructor bios, and detailed photos of projects in action two times a year. Or just visit the website.



I took quite a few photographs when I was living there and continue to do so when I return for visits and courses. It's been fun to see which ones Scott, who does an amazing job with layout and design...big project(!), decides to put in for the last few editions and this time to see my name beside acclaimed photographer, Layne Kennedy, on the list of contributors!

Making Things

We've been busy for the last year making things in Minneapolis while John finishes up grad school part 2 and I finish up my year of AmeriCorps service (in addition to spending time with family and friends, traveling, and making loads of food and music).

Rings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:


Beer:


Bread:

Vermont

After departing from North House and before beginning my year of service with AmeriCorps VISTA, I attended the Wildbranch Writing Workshop in Craftsbury Common, VT. It was co-hosted by my favorite magazine, Orion, and a beautiful, small college called Sterling. We spent the week with editors and contributors of the magazine and our workshop-mates, discussing the intersection of nature, culture, and place (and writing). I was impressed by the school's dedication to sustainable agriculture, environmental studies, and hands-on learning, I immediately felt akin to their interdisciplinary programs, and I hope to return someday and keep up on the good work they're doing.

Traditional Crafts

My apologies. It's been a couple of years.

I departed from Japan after a year of teaching and exploring. I spent October 2008-April 2009 living, working, and learning at North House Folk School, a nonprofit learning center focused on traditional crafts and sustainable living. My home was a little yellow house right on campus, beside Lake Superior. It was an amazing winter and although I'm no longer living there, I don't think I will ever leave. I remain involved with occasional visits, classes, volunteer opportunities (check out the new website John and I built at www.northhouse.org!), and what have you.



While there, I spent my time assisting with work around the school (from taking photographs to writing and editing publications to hosting visitors to washing toilets to taking lots of classes), as well as picking cranberries at the bog to make fresh sauce, playing music, skiing, dog sledding, and so much more.

The past month has been a mix, a chyampuru. School has been busy, I was a bit under the weather for a while, and the weekends, short as they are, fill up quickly.

At the end of May, a friend from Minnesota was in town. Heidi's visit was a great excuse to revisit those things that were at first quite novel and have since become regular ingredients in my life this year. A visit to the neighborhood izakaya, 居酒屋, for the island's local beer and some kimchi yakisoba and edamame (a popular and tasty soybean appetizer). A bus ride to the enormous aquarium housing whale sharks and manta rays and turtles and dolphins and an amazing botanical garden halfway up the island, Churaumi. Chura, beautiful in the old Okinawan dialect, and umi, ocean. Those, and other things. It was lovely to spend some time with her and also be reminded of the special things, be they Japanese, Okinawan, or just exactly what they are, that surround me while I live and work here.



A week and a half ago, I spent several days, along with one of my coworkers, preparing ten students chosen to attend the G8 Summit's Science and Technology Minister's meeting discussion of current Environmental Issues. After long days at school, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes draining, and usually with the first and second year students that I primarily work with this semester who are still trudging through early levels of English conversation ability, it was an enjoyable challenge to work through a topic of interest to me and some students I've known for many months now. Students who constantly try and ask and invest energy in growing and stumbling and making great advances in their journey of learning. With nerves, last Monday, we reviewed major topics and points of individual interests. Nao asked me, just before leaving, what I would ask if I were in her position. I was caught a bit off guard, but I said I'd inquire about the next plan of action. Of true motion toward change.

Several of the students came up to me on Tuesday, after attending the meeting, slightly disappointed but extremely thankful. They were proud to have been part of the “discussion” and happy to have become more aware of topics that they had only heard bits of, whether in their native language or English. Only two had the opportunity to ask questions and it was perhaps more of a practice in listening than discussion. There was much less participation on part of the students than they had hoped. While Nao and I were conversing about the results of the experience (she was one of the two students from our school who was allowed to ask questions), she said somewhat disappointedly, “I asked your question, Grace”, but she and the other students weren't particularly impressed with the response of their nation's minister. “What matters is what is in your heart” was the translation. Not moments later, I was talking to Arisa, who told me that this experience had made her even more sure that her minor in college will be Environmental Studies.

Amidst all this, I also took the opportunity to see the cliffs on the northern edge of the island during a rare two-day weekend. Cape Hedo on a cloudy day was perfect. The heat and humidity, the high and hot sun, which are inescapable at this time of year, were staved off for a a refreshingly less-hot (although I wouldn't say cool) weekend. Mushiatsui (humid-hot) has been the favorite word of many these days. Although a bike ride around the island would be ideal, time doesn't allow it at the moment. A friend and I rented a car and drove up the east side of the island on slow and winding roads. It was a strange feeling to be in control of my own motion on the road again. We stopped by a coffee farm and walked around the cliffs of Hedo, peering down to the aquamarine blue splashes below white crashing waves.



A splurge on a Japanese hotel (ryokan) was a very good choice (yay! public baths!). Although finding the road that climbed up Nikijin, a small mountain/big hill halfway down the west side of the island, was not easy, it was entirely worth it. As the little Toyota purred up the path, all we could see ahead of us was misty fog. By the time we made it to the top and exited the car, we were heading toward a ryokan in the clouds. After dropping my bag in our entryway and I walked through the small and comfortable tatami room to the big window facing the edge of the mountain. I opened it wide. Thankfully it had no screen. I sat on the sill and watched as the clouds moved, revealing bits of farm here and ocean there, islands and lower hills, each being ever-so-slowly exposed and covered, hidden for minutes by unhurried soft white until another scene was to be divulged. All the while, the rolling green hills, covered with thick brush and trees below, buzzed with sounds of life. Not the sounds I've become accustomed to in Naha: the twittering of the crosswalk safety beep, cars zooming, motorcycles roaring, or campaign buses announcing. Instead, it was a buzz of green. Tiny legged and winged and small and large and hidden in the thick rolling foliage like I was hidden, sitting in the thick rolling clouds.



More recent photos at the end of this photo album.

After a couple weeks teeming with tests, the students are exhausted and everyone is back on schedule.

Yay. I'm kind of tired, too, so I'm not going to say anything of much consequence today.

In lieu of photographs of school hallways and student uniforms, the images that fill a good part of my days but usually not my camera, I will give you a sampling from recent excursions.

First, a few weeks ago we celebrated ensoku, a school 'picnic' day where everyone goes to a giant park and plays games, sports, and otherwise runs around for hours on end--a change of pace much needed for the students. There were spandex/masked soccer games, intense volleyball matches, dangerous bicycle races, and all sorts of shenanigans that are made available when walls and notebooks are absent.



Second, a long weekend trip to a small, sub-tropical island within ferry distance some friends and I took over Golden Week (camping, swimming, jellyfishing and so on).





味の素=ajinomoto=MSG
I think I eat it often.

My chair guffaws.
One of my laughs is inaudible, but with this one my upper body moves. My desk chair squeaks in joyous communion as my shoulders silently rise and fall.

I've been collecting things.
Mochi in my belly, moments, skills, songs, uncertainty, words, sunsets, convictions (of the non-felonious type), ants, calluses, rainwater.....and in this manner I hope to continue.

Following a very busy collection of weeks, a long-awaited week of travel bridged the third and fourth months of the year.

I caught an early flight to Kyushu and a train ride to Karatsu to start.
A friend, Jon, showed Mary and I a lovely time around his part of the world. He's a potter and has developed many relationships with other artists in the area, which has a long history of ceramic wares. He kindly introduced us to some of his favorite studios and the work of some amazing potters (and on the rare occasion, a potter him/herself), amidst showing us the popular historical sights, catching an onsen or two, and hanging out in his countryside village outside of Karatsu.

An old kiln at the Nakazato studio, now on the thirteenth generation of potters in the family.

Personally, visiting these places was a convergence of a couple worlds. I was moving backwards from work and theories I identified with in MN toward the land, the lifestyles, and the teachers that inspired it. Forms and methods were familiar, not only because I've seen where they have been brought and built upon in the United States, but also because they themselves are individuals in a long line of slow and careful development of techniques and ideas, originating hundreds of years ago in Korea.
I could go on. Let me know if you have questions.


I was lucky enough to then spend some time with a friend from college who is working in Akita, an area in the northwest mountains of the island of Honshu (what I often refer to as "mainland"). After a short stop in Tokyo, where the cherry blossoms were blooming in full and the elephants and panda bears of Ueno Zoo were frolicking in the sun, I took a lengthy and enjoyable shinkansen (bullet train) due north. An immediate sense of comfort and familiarity struck me as I entered the hinterlands, as quickly as my eyes caught the lingering patches of snow on the tree covered mountains and the voice of a child sitting behind me rang "YUKI!". Dan has made a lovely home for himself in the small town of Yuzawa and he makes a mean kimchi nabe to boot. Snow-coverd mountains, deep lapping lakes blue and sulfuric above active calderas, streets lined with well-maintained samurai homes, and a unbelievably tasty au gratin sandwich (seriously!) later and there is still much to be said about the few days we wandered together.

A very large, old tree nestled between the homes and businesses of Yuzawa.

You'll have to wait on most of the Akita photos, though. They're stuck, helplessly imprisoned, in my camera.

More photos from my spring break excursion can be found here.
Updated images of my life in Okinawa are at the end of this album.

Having a two-day weekend is very holiday-like these days, let alone an entire week. My time with friends, on trains, in mountains, beside waterfalls, they are vacuum-packed into intense and quick excursions filled with more that one would think time would allow and I treasure them as additionally amazing moments amidst my everyday work as a teacher which is never quite everyday-ish. I can learn things from my students that I could never learn romping across landmasses, and I do...almost every day. Great things come in big and small packages. Fancy and homely. Shiny and dull. It's not always a matter of going out and finding those things that spark excitement, joy, imagination...life. It's a matter of being aware that they're always there. Perhaps not of the dimensions you expected. Maybe not in those conventionally "beautiful" or "convenient" ways. It's highly possible your sparks are all kinds of scuffed-up. But that doesn't mean they aren't waiting for you. With you.

Nine Days. Eight Nights. A bunch of Junior High school students.




What sounds like a recipe for disaster was actually pretty great. It started out with three girls and eight boys. Two lovely and official ESL teachers from the States were flown in to Okinawa for the students' morning classes. Every other moment they were ours (Mary and I were everyone's “camp counselors”). We helped them make breakfast in the morning (pancakes anyone? scrambled eggs with vegetables? FRENCH TOAST?), get off to school on time, and then all afternoon we facilitated outdoor activities (Nature walk? Soccer? Kickball? Icebreaker games? We even kayaked in the mangroves one day!) and after dinner we taught them night games in English (which after much explanation and animation, often ended up having relatively close Japanese equivalents), played cards or board games, or had bon fires (fire safety was a problem, s'mores were beloved by all). And then it was time to help them with homework and get them all tucked into bed for the next early morning. We created a comfortable routine and became a happy ESL camp family. For the last three days, an additional six girls and two boys joined us.



Overall, it was a wonderful change of pace. I had the mornings to read or take walks (sans Naha's concrete, thank goodness) and the rest of the time I played. I had the pleasure to get to know these students personally, answer their questions without being rushed by jam-packed class schedules, and ask them questions that arose as we hung out together. We all came out of it having learned a lot about each other and our languages and cultures, through multiple long days together and small group/one-on-one connections. Genuine communication takes time, persistence, and focus.

As much as the internet provides me a forum for communicating with people around the world, I sincerely hope to see you soon.

About a month ago, back in early/mid-March, we gave ourselves a few weeks to prepare after learning about the upcoming friendship and knowledge exchange. An intensive week and a half preceding the arrival of the visiting Vietnamese students, I worked closely with two small groups of students from my high school gathering and arranging data for a presentation they would eventually combine with information shared by the Vietnamese students and give the presentations, together, in English, to the entire high school. Really long sentence. Gomen. Having little or no experience creating research projects of their own, let alone in English, we had a lot of work to do and each of my students put in a lot of time and effort to be ready for the arrival of the visiting students.

When they came the following four days were a rush, as if a great gale blew in through every window of a house and you had to hold on to the furniture to make sure it didn't fly to the other side of the room. We had no idea what resources the Vietnamese students had back at home, so we were prepared for a whole variety of things, but as they filed into the classroom in their uniforms, after touring the school in traditional dress, the speed of their English, the depth of their research, and comfort with active learning blew both me and my students away. Our major obstacle was removing me as a translator and creating a level of sincere communication between very different types of students.

I must say, over the next few days while we concentrated on getting to know each other, having fun, and finalizing the projects, I was extremely impressed with everyone's work. In addition, both the Japanese and Vietnamese students involved performed beautiful examples of traditional music and dance from each of their cultures, a feat that led me to wondering what I would have done with my high school classmates in the same position.
After hours of running between groups of students, plugging away at connecting the students despite their different levels and backgrounds and constantly correcting and revising everything from organization to layout to pronunciation, watching them present their projects on subjects from Asia's Role in the Modern World to Population Issues was a great grand finale to all of their hard work.



The exchange was not only of cultural ideas and traditions, of semi-prepared projects and time, but of students learning about what it is to be students. There are so many ways to teach, so many different education systems, so many ways to learn. Careful listening, patient problem solving, and articulation of resolutions was the meeting point for everyone—the way to step through differences and into a middle ground of growth. And questions. Questions are the seeds to the water of consideration, the sunlight of patience, and the nutrients of perspective. I am lucky enough to be one who is able to watch them grow.

Plant seeds.

The people of Okinawa are well known for living the longest, healthiest lives of any single group in the world (the most prevalent amount of centenarians on earth!). It has often been attributed to their diets. Fish, vegetables, legumes (lots of tofu!), lean meats (pork is popular), sweet potatoes (imo is a big deal here), and spices from all over the world (garlic, ginger, turmeric, etc.) are common ingredients in an Okinawan meal, along with white rice. Add active social lives and regular exercise and you have an effective mix for a long, healthy life. Although these impressive stats are changing due to more western influence in diet and lifestyle, I still like to think the health and vibrancy at the heart of this island rubs off on everyone, including visitors and temporary residents.

That said, I see a lot of old people.

I also see whales. Last weekend, some friends and I went to Naminoe port and took an enjoyable boat ride outside of the harbor and toward the East China Sea, where in late winter and early spring many humpback whales make their way form the Northern Seas to the nearby Kerama Islands during breeding season.

On another note, I went to a play a few weeks ago. Okinawa's relatively recent addition to the nation of Japan is obvious in many ways here. The food has remained somewhat different from mainland Japan. The arts are similar, but certainly not the same. In fact, most parts of life have retained some flavor of the separate island culture that Okinawa once was, as the helm of the Ryukyu Empire. The play was interesting in two ways (probably more). First, popular and ancient Japanese theater, such as kabuki, is not present here. However, there are a few rare Okinawan-style theater arts that have survived the repeated takeovers of the small island chain. Secondly, the play itself centered around a creative retelling of the history of Okinawa, particularly during the time, about five hundred years ago, when Japan and China, two trade-partners of the Ryukyu Kingdom, wanted more control. It's a rather sad history of a peaceful island often taken advantage of, not to mention the complete decimation of most architecture and nearly every part of life during the second world war. A note on current Okinawan affairs: Did you know that nearly 75% of USFJ military bases are located in Okinawa prefecture? Sadly, a number of young women have been raped by servicemen, particularly gaining attention are one case in 1995 and another series just last month. These crimes have obviously created tension between the islanders and the strong military presence. I'm not usually affected by it firsthand, nor do I have much to do with the bases, but it is part of Okinawan life thesedays.

Anyway. February and March are transition months at Okisho. The official new academic year starts at the beginning of April. As stated earlier, the seniors graduated in mid-February. So for about seven weeks, teachers have 2/3 the class-load (even less, usually). However, as often happens in busy lives, when a moment of free time comes up there are about twelve million things that have been waiting on the back burner to get done. So although these weeks are lighter on regular classes, we have many additional projects going on, including the preparation for a friendly cultural/intellectual exchange with nearly thirty visiting Vietnamese students mid-March and an ESL camp at the end of the month.

Whatever you're doing, keep it up. And take a few moments to realize you are in the midst of the life you are choosing to make for yourself. That's a gift not everyone possesses. And this is not a test. There is no right answer.
I know many friends are going through awkward post-college transitions, and I, of course, am not exempt from this group. Migrating not through the East China Sea, but through a plethora of possibilities. Of confusions. Of frustrations. Of young adulthood. I'm guessing life is a series of awkward transitions. So whatever your situation is, I hope a few words from Trappist monk Thomas Merton, care of a friend, help you along on your journey:

"Advice? I would say there is one basic idea that should be kept in
mind in all the exchanges we make in life, whether of career or
anything else. We should decide not in view of better pay, higher
rank, 'getting ahead', but in view of becoming more real, entering
more authentically into direct contact with life, living as a free and
mature human person, able to give myself more to others, able to
understand myself and the world better. I hope that these few notes
may be of some use."

A busy weekend...


High School Graduation was highly anticipated by all of the third year students. After an arduous few months of testing, this ceremony marked the end of their high school experience. The ceremony itself wasn't too unlike an American one. There were numerous speeches given, diplomas were handed to each of the students, and family came to watch. Underclassmen sang and played in the award-winning band.
The stage was overflowing with flowers, many of them arranged by an Ikebana-certified staff member.
Okisho students have created their own version of the cap-toss. At the end of all of the formalities, they throw up their blazers in what is called the "buleza nage".



These are a few of my former third year students post-graduation. Every student wears a corsage from his or her parent(s).


There was a huge student/faculty party the evening following the graduation ceremony. For the students, it is much like prom, without the dancing. Many go over the edge with fashionable self-expression as this is their first time to do so after years of uniforms and grooming guidelines. It's a rather expensive and formal affair. It was great to see the no-longer-students relax and have fun.


Some friends and I went up to the northern part of the island to see the Cherry Blossoms. Okinawa is the first place for the sakura trees to bloom...over the next few months, hundreds of buds will burst open further up the island chain and attract throngs of hanami (flower viewing) participants.


Aquarium Fun!!! This Whale Shark is a member of the largest living fish species.


More new photos from graduation, parties, and northernly adventures can be found here.


Changes for the students.
Changes for the trees.
Everything is fluid. Swimming, churning, rushing around the aquarium of life. Was that transition cheesy enough? Hold on to what you love and ride the rest of the waves. Complete the metaphor.
Happy Tell People You Care with Pink Cards and Chocolate Day.
Happy You are an Important Part of My So-called Life Every Day.

Keep on swimming. Swimming. Swimming.

School!

Winter in Okinawa is chilly, overcast, and drizzly. Sometimes we get a slice of sun. It simmers through the cool dampness, the concrete dries up and it feels like summer again.

It's transition time at Okisho. My teaching schedule has experienced a shake-up, but the changes will be a nice variation of the never-quite-routine routine. The third years (high school seniors) are graduating next weekend. The second years are taking hundreds of tests, as usual, and preparing to make the move to the third year schedule. The first years (10th graders) are still plugging away at English oral communication with me. And I get to work with some really interesting adults twice a week at an affiliated school through the month of February.

One of our third year classes.


Many of our students are pretty great cartoonists.


World Karate Championships back in Okinawa, the home of karate.


Our baseball team rocks. This is the field on campus.


Junior High students practicing karate in the gym.


It's already sakura time in Okinawa.


Rough translation: "Please be nice to me when I'm a third year!" alongside drawings of a couple of the teachers in the English department.