Mattaponi

So, last weekend, we took a mini roadtrip to Richmond, VA, where I ran in my first 10k race ever, the Ukrops Monument Avenue 10k. The race included 37,000 runners, people cheering the entire length of the run through downtown Richmond, and a band set up playing every couple of blocks. It was fantastic and fun...and I finished in 59 min 39 sec, to boot. Not bad for a non-runner. While I was doing that, Owen was playing with Jackie, daughter of one of my closest friends, an old martial arts buddy, Chris Falls. The Falls family is AWESOME, so that was the big motivator in going to Richmond. The race just pushed me to do it and set a date for the visit. From Richmond, we decided to make the one hour drive to Gloucester, Virginia to visit another old martial arts buddy, Warren. Gloucester is a beautiful little town, quaint and full of wonderful historic buildings. And Warren is a gourmet chef; so needless to say, lunch in Gloucester was fabulous. Good company, sunshine, good food, flowers,...life is good. To get to Gloucester, we crossed the Mattaponi and Pamunkey Rivers. These rivers flow through the 2 oldest Indian Reservations in the country; established through treaty with the King of England. And I have spent quite a bit of time at Mattaponi, so that is what this post is really about.

As we crossed the bridge over the Mattaponi River, it was a flood of memories. Rivers amaze me that way. What is the retention time of a drop of water in a river? Short. Yet the rivers hold memories and feelings forever. I thought of time spent repairing a beautiful old canoe with wooden gunnels, eventually painted a bright turquoise; Sun Eagle and Gentle Wind's happiness at the finished canoe, their feeling of freedom spread; fighting the currents and tides of the brackish river to cross; walks along the river, learning about The Old Ways from Gentle Wind; the beauty of all her paintings, all of them inspired there, on its banks; fishing in the quiet places on the other side of the river; the shad hatchery; missing old friends and loved ones and a sense of longing mixed in with the flooded feelings of happiness and beauty. I love that river. It is home. It is the home to generations. It is life.

Some estimates suggest that every drop of water existing on this earth is over 2 million years old. Maybe this is how the stories and memories are held.

Mass Transfer

So, it has been a long time, my friends...but here I am!

Last summer (?, I think? it has been a while), I was assigned the task of giving a seminar to my small (but brilliant) research group, Air VT. I presented the then-slim results of my research project (and if you are curious, on the emissions of phthalates from vinyl flooring: interactions with airborne particulates), but with my idea of a nerdily humorous title, "Mass Transfer: From Alaska to Virginia (of course featuring silly touristy pictures of Owen and I in Alaska)" (And to explain what might be painfully obvious, my dissertation research is essentially on mass transfer - aqueous transfer of molecules through rock through the process of diffusion. My new research, mass transfer of molecules from flooring, to air, to particles. Mass transfer. Central theme. And moving 1 4-yr old, 3 dogs, and one adult on the epic road trip, which was the inspiration for starting this blog, is also: Mass Transfer. haha. Science nerd, I know, but it was funny. Dammit. Now laugh.) So, here I am, a few months later, contemplating my newest future of mass transfer: from Blacksburg, Virginia to a faculty ("A real professor. Damnation." That's from A River Runs Through It, and in my head, it is a smiling Brad Pitt who delivers that line of congratulations to me on my new prospects) position at the South Dakota School of Mines and Technology.

One. My journey to my interview was epic. Sheer determination got me there, because I saw this posting for a faculty position in Sustainable Engineering posted, for Rapid City, in the middle of Paha Sapa, which is a place that runs a deep chord in my heart anyway, and despite mechanical problems, a canceled flight, a surprise snowy/freezing-rain 8 hr road trip that started after having already been awake and functioning for over 13 hrs, a possibly lost bag,...there was no way I was going to turn around and blow my shot at what seemed like my dream job. So, grit, lots of solo hours previously logged on the road, an inherited ability to ignore the need for sleep, and bad coffee in Nebraska (but free...but really bad. I mean really. Like they took 10 mL of a cup of my coffee and squirted it into a mug of hot water kind of bad) got me there. Oh...and the real version of K-REZ radio (another movie reference, Smoke Signals, and here, the real DJ resembled John Trudell in my head) to listen to (and for all you school kids, you'd better eat your Wheaties. Because the school bell rang an hour ago).

Two. It's Paha Sapa. Sacred, beautiful. Home to bison and elk. Harney Peak, at over 7,000 ft, the highest peak east of the Rockies. The Badlands. I have thus far, passed by Mount Rushmore, refusing to go look at the destruction of the sacred into a monument to old white men. I understand, they each contributed uniquely to our country. But, still...it is representative of an exclusive club. And I do not agree with that in principle. And I still remain faithful to a Mark Twain quote: "Loyalty to the country always. Loyalty to the country when it deserves it." I wonder how long I can keep that protest up when I live as close as I will be to it (insert giddy, excited giggle).

Three. On the morning of my long day of job interview, I had breakfast with a wonderful professor there (who specializes in concrete and his contribution to sustainability in that realm, I found fascinating: fly ash concrete mixes, recycled glass concrete, and permeable surfaces...I am already dreaming of its potentials). As he was giving me a quick tour of campus, he mentioned his work in Mongolia. I nearly stopped dead in my tracks. Mongolia? Really? My dream travel destination (for those who have known me for long, you should know, I dream, and try to plan travels through Mongolia. I have no idea when or why I initially became so interested in this country, but it is there. I mean, really, people who invented the wonder of the yurt deserve some tourism cash back). And, as it turns out, there is a cooperative agreement between the university and the Mongolian University of Science and Technology. Really? Really. How bizarrely compelling is that?

Four. Bizarre roadside attractions. Rapid City itself is divided by a large ridge upon which reside a conglomeration of depression-era reconstructed dinosaurs. And apparently, you can never get lost in Rapid City, because you only need to look up to the ridge and note that the Brontosaurus (depression era, as I said, I have a 5-yr old and am up-to-date on the sad, sordid tale of the poor Brontosaurus) always looks north. http://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/10514 From Giant Beavers to the world's largest teepee, to an enormous Moose, we all know, there is nothing more appealing than a bizarre roadside attraction. And this region of South Dakota apparently has more than it's fair share. I already envision weekend road/camping trips to visit these bizarre scenes.

Five. I was told that I use too many exclamation points in my seminar. This is true. I do. I've noticed that when I type emails to friends, nearly every sentence ends with an exclamation point. I can't help it. I love life!!!!! And nearly every silly ironic crazy thing in it...all its challenges, tribulations, and trials...and all its beauty and triumph and wonder!!! But, then, the consensus seemed to be that I should go ahead and leave them in. My personality coming through. And so, I did. And it turns out that the search committee was looking for someone "with energy." I guess I fit that bill.

Six. It's sustainable engineering. A unique challenge, because of course, I have no training in this subject. I have, however, in my backpocket, a lifetime of dedication and passion to saving (yeah, yeah, I know...naive, but I'm sticky with naivety because it makes me happy) this beautiful earth. And maybe that is enough. But, it is hardly believable right now that I will be able to actually (finally) earn a decent income doing work that I love and believe in. Wow! How's that for a modern day fairy tale? Mass Transfer: A Fairy Tale.

Life in The South

I still promise to sometime post the remaining writings from Africa someday. Now I have to find them. So, in the meantime, we have settled into life here in Blacksburg, Virginia. As with anyplace, the world is full of beauty if you take the time to notice it, but still, I think that this is one of the more beautiful places in this world.

We live in town, a quick bike ride to work, stores, the awesome Farmer's Market, and yet on two sides of our house, our neighbors are a big open field. The comforts of town, without town. We watch the haybaling when it happens and observe... There is a horse farm just down the road that we like to walk to. The walk reminds me of my youth - early mornings smelling of honeysuckle, a feeling of freedom, and watching horses - exactly a favorite pasttime of my high school years. There are cherry trees, pear trees, and all kinds of special finds in nature. There are lighning bugs that light the fields and make you feel and believe in magic. There are big old trees with branches grown to be climbed. And we do. There is a grape arbor and the excitement of waiting for something that will be turned to jellies and wine. And it is something to hide under - like a secret fort for kids. It is a return to childhood. And I love it.

However, as much as I love it, and as much as I love my job and the people I work around, I am already antsy and looking forward to something new. I don't know what will be next, but I have all the faith in the world that it will be good.

My little sister and my new brother in law are coming from DC to visit this weekend. I am so excited. Of course, they are family...and I adore them and believe that my time with them is absolutely precious. Funny though, as I was thinking about my feelings of restlessness, I was remembering our older sister, Lori's, toast at their wedding this June. She talked about Alyssa and how, in our family, what she was known for was her resistence to change. And that holding on quality of Alyssa is what has given her a happy, wonderful relationship with Paul and a successful career doing what she loves. She is a gem, and there are so many ways that she and I are similar - but this, is not one of them. Funny how different we are in that...I had just been noticing that my life had begun to fall into a routine. For me, routine is bad. It works for a while, but I get bored with it, no matter how good it is, and end up feeling like I'd rather scratch my eyes out with a ball point pen than to have one more single day that is just like the day before. Which probably explains why I am not married (in principle at least) and have only a quasi-serious commitment to my career, which I love right now, but I know me, it will change again someday. So there it is...irony, huh? I have no idea why I am hardwired to feel that way...

I am not lost in Africa...

After moving from Alaska and traveling to South Africa, as well as some massive car repair bills, I am fairly completely in debt. As such, to save money, I do not have internet, phone, cable (whatever, I don't like tv enough to pay for that even if I have money, but I'm making a point, so no quibbling over it! My points don't have to make sense. They are mine.), etc. So, my current home internet connection is patchy and solely present at all due to the kindness of an unknown neighbor who has an unsecured wireless account. That said, I keep trying to post the rest of what I did write about our travels in Africa, and before it can go up, the internet connection disappears. So, to answer the recent inquiries regarding my whereabouts, no, I am not still wandering in Africa. I am as settled down in our new home in Blacksburg, Virginia as an unsettled girl can get, enjoying spring and an exciting new job. But the remainder of Africa babble and the wanderings after that will indeed get posted...some day...I'm not committing to when though.

Kruger National Park

Kruger National Park, to me, seems like a kind of a do-it-yourself safari. I think of it as the Denali of South Africa. It is utterly teeming with wildlife and gorgeous scenery and vast open lands around the roads. You can drive your personal vehicle through the park, but the big rule there is that you are not allowed to get out of the car once on the road for your protection from the dangerous animals: lions, hippos, crocodiles, etc. I have to mention, that while I love Denali National Park, and would be happy to go back there to visit anytime, in terms of the variety of wildlife, it actually pales in comparison to Kruger.

We spent two days driving through the park. And during those days we saw: lions, zebra, countless impala (which I learned are refered to by South Africans as “alweerbok,” which means “not again buck.” It became almost tiring to see them… “oh, look, more impala…”), giraffes, warthogs, bushbuck, duiker, hippopotamus, white rhinocerus, elephants, buffalo, baboons, blue wildebeest, ostriches, crocodiles, a monitor lizard, African fish eagle, saddlebilled storks, an unidentified snake or two, hornbills, rollers, and a huge list of other birds. Unfortunately, no kudu, cheetah, or leopards were on our list. However, the list is undoubtably impressive and the experience unforgettable. And either the lions, the rotting giraffe carcas that they had been feeding on, or both really stunk.

On the first day driving in Kruger, Walter stopped the car so we could watch a dung beetle rolling his dung ball across the road in front of us. However, just as he was passing our car and into the next lane, we saw another vehicle approaching and worried that our little friend was going to be mushed. So, we sat, nervously watching, and cheering the little dung beetle along, “Go, dung beetle!!! Go! Go Go!!!!” He made it, and we all cheered.

I should mention that I am trying to improve my Afrikaans vocabulary. It also now includes the names of several animals, butcher shop, good night, and a few other random words. Though, this surprisingly did not help me much when Owen and I walked to the local butcher shop to look for ostrich steaks. I had no idea what much of anything in the store was because I can’t read the labels, so I had to just resort to asking for help. We did get the ostrich steaks, which were delicious. And my limited vocabulary was also not of much use when we went to see a concert by Nataniël, a South African performer, who apparently beyond being a talented singer, is also just hilarious. But, I enjoyed the performance anyway, despite not being able to understand much of it. I think he made some joke between his songs that refered to an ostrich. Oh, and chickens. I know that word too.

Zebras

There are moments in life that are timeless. When put to words, they sound trivial, insignificant. But remembrance is alive with all the senses and the senses are not dulled with time. It is this that makes those moments powerful beyond words. They burn themselves onto the soul and forever leave their mark. Instantaneously, there is the feeling of knowing; like knowing that a dream is more than a dream, the way a vision comes. For me, these moments are always associated with solitude in nature. They are moments during which thoughts disappear into the wonder of the world around me; like reaching a higher spiritual plane through medidation, without the medidation (what a gift for someone as undedicated as me to experience those moments without the dedication!). I believe that the universe sends us those moments of clarity for reasons that will remain a secret for now; but, as such, they are rare. Perhaps the rarity is what allows them to remain so vivid in the mind through time, because they are not overly clouded by trying to retain far too many of them.

I have a handful of those experiences in my life. Two of them are associated with two of my favorite places in this world and part of the reasons that they are my favorite places: Alaska and southwest Virginia. And now, life has seen fit to send me one to associate with South Africa. On a hot afternoon during our weekend “in the bush” with Walter’s parents, I took a walk so I could look around one last time before hitting the road. Owen was happily playing in a sprinkler, so I left him in the care of Walter, An, and Okie, and went out. During the walk, I saw several zebra standing in the road ahead of me. While walking in to get a better look, the rest of the herd ran in and I stood in the midst of them. And at the same time, a family of warthogs jumped up from their afternoon nap and ran into the middle of the scene. That is one of those moments, and as I said, it sounds trivial when put to words, but there it is, and it is one of them. Zebra are truly beautiful animals and warthogs, well, they are just adorable.

Speaking Akrikaans

Apparently, I learn slowly and my pronunciation is abhorrent. Or I am just enjoying my lazy vacation-mode, sipping coffee all morning and alcohol in the afternoons through evenings. Owen's pronunciation, in contrast to mine, is perfect and he seems to remember new words in volumes as compared to me. I wish we retained the sponge capacity of our brains as we aged.

After about 5 days in South Africa, I added three words to my Afrikaans vocabulary: bug, liquor store, and butterfly. Useful, huh (well, the liquor store term really is undeniably important)? I feel more than slightly pathetic.

After about one and a half weeks, I have added several animal names, a few odd other words, butcher shop, and goodnight to my vocabulary. So has Owen.

Owen's favorite Afrikaans word seems to be volstruis, or ostrich. We stopped at a butcher shop one afternoon to buy some lamb (Walter makes fabulous lamb steaks on the grill and Owen absolutely loves eating it) and I pointed out that there was ostrich meat for sale. Since that moment, Owen has been telling me over and over, "Mommy, I really want to eat volstruis. I've never tried volstruis yet." He's an adventurous boy, with an adventurous appetite. I'm proud of that.