culture – Page 15 – Destination NOW

Rollin’ Round Rarotonga

Remember the John Candy movie “Planes Trains and Automobiles”? If it had been filmed in Rarotonga it would have been called “Buses, Scooters and Pick Up Trucks”– and we rode them all.

Where else does the bus driver stop to pick up his breakfast and come back with a load of bananas for everyone on the bus? The food stand owner knew we were all going to church, so she wanted to show us a little love.

"Superman", one of my favorite bus drivers--with our gift from "Mama" — “Superman”, one of my favorite bus drivers–with our gift from “Mama”

There are two bus routes on Rarotonga. The Clockwise bus leaves from the center of Avarua on the hour; the Anti-clockwise bus leaves on the half hour. Their only route is the circle around the island that is Rarotonga’s one main road. Although technically there ARE bus stops, standing anywhere by the side of the road and waving enthusiastically works too. And there if there is one thing I have plenty of, it’s enthusiasm!

My other favorite driver was Bob Hopeless, who turns a bus ride into a bona fide tourist attraction.

If you’d like 30 seconds of the Bob Hopeless experience, click this link. If you want more, you’ll just have to visit Rarotonga. And yes, the road was that bumpy, which is one reason I decided against renting a bicycle. The other was bus rides were so bloody much fun!

Maybe in Boston, (at least according to “Cheers”) everyone in the local bar knows who you are; on Rarotonga, it was the bus drivers.

Because we are workers, we get a special red bus pass–10 rides for $20–which almost functioned as an ID badge, differentiating us from the other Pakeha (non-Maori) on the island. Our Global Volunteers fee covers transportation to and from the worksite; any non-work related travel (even going to church) we fund ourselves. Anyway, before too long the drivers were greeting us and they knew exactly where we were headed.

But buses were only one method of transportation. This is a VERY friendly island. Sometimes we’d decide to walk back from school. We’d start off but before we got too far, we’d hear someone shouting our names and we were hopping onto or into one vehicle or another. One day a pick up truck, the next a scooter.
Niki and I jumped out to get ice cream while Patrick (in the front seat) and Willy continued on the last few “blocks” to the KiiKii Motel. My seat was right over the left rear wheel.

Note the water bottle in Willy's hands; note the disappointed look on the boy;s face. Willy had promised to squirt Niki and me, then thought better of it. — Note the water bottle in Willy’s hands; note the disappointed look on the boy’s face. Willy had promised to squirt Niki and me, then reconsidered.

No photos exist of my rides on the back of Engia’s (the principal of Takitumu) motor scooter, but Niki did take this one of me hitching a ride with Bud before our hike up the mountain.

We also got offered rides in regular cars, but what made those trips memorable were the conversations with the drivers. Tora is a Maori who emigrated to Australia and joined the army. He was a military attache to the US army who had served in Afghanistan.

Tora clued us in to the controversy surrounding the upcoming coronation. It seems that a former king had three wives and some thought that the wrong line had been selected to replace the prior queen. He explained that the dissenters would be letting their feelings known at the coronation.

Okay, so NEXT post will be about the coronation. I promise!

There was ONE more method of island transportation that us “three weekers” experienced vicariously. The 10th Annual Vaca Eiva went from November 23 until November 29 and drew rowers from all over the Pacific region: Tahiti, New Zealand, Australia, even one team from Hawaii, and of course The Cook Islands. The racers rowed right by my hotel room, giving me great opportunities to capture the action. Because they all wore event tee shirts and not their team shirts, it was a little tricky to determine who was who. Fortunately, the KiiKii was also home to a Kiwi team and when their supporters started cheering wildly, I started shooting.

The young Kiwis staying at our hotel came in third!

The Tahitians were #1 and 2, but our Kiwi friends did quite well, and were thrilled I had managed to capture the moment for them. And I was thrilled to be able to show MY appreciation for the warmth, friendship and hospitality I experienced while visiting their country by giving something to them. And isn’t that what Global Volunteers is all about?

Global Volunteers, Cook Islands

Let me introduce you to Global Volunteer’s Vaca 139. Why “Vaca”? Because it is the Maori word for boat, and it serves as a reminder that we are all in the same boat–we’re in this together.

The 139 is self explanatory: we are the 139th group of Global Volunteers to serve in Rarotonga. Of Vaca 139’s ten volunteers, six have been here before, which speaks volumes about this assignment. Half of the group will be staying for two weeks. I am one of the five that opted for three weeks.

Standing: Dave, Larry, Willy Middle: James, Lynda, Shelley, Bud Front: Robyn, Patrick, Sally, Niki — Standing: Dave, Larry, Willy
Middle: James, the country manager, Lynda, Shelley, Bud
Front: Robyn, Patrick, Sally, Niki

So what were we going to do during our stay? Larry and Sally split their time between the prison and the high school. When she was not in jail, Sally was a one woman “beautifier”, sprucing up the exterior of Tereora College. She was leaving HER mark in flowers, while Larry, a former math teacher, gave his students practical skills, such as learning how to calculate nutritional values and convert celsius to fahrenheit.

Robyn and Dave worked in Titikavaka College. Bud, an Ob/Gyn, returned to the hospital to offer his assistance, and Lynda worked with the Ministry of Education, developing plans for special needs children.

Willy and Niki, Patrick and I were delighted to be assigned to an elementary school. Papa Patrick, an artist from Florida, very thoughtfully brought along a suitcase full of watercolors and paper. He spent the first two of the three weeks at the school, helping the children make cards; the last week he taught disabled adults at the Creative Center with Lynda.

Uncle Willy worked with the third graders during class time.

Can you see why it required more than one attempt to photograph THIS group?

Once the drums started beating (yes, that’s right–there are no bells, there are drums that mark the start and finish of school periods) he was out in the field, playing soccer with boys of ALL ages, regardless of the heat and humidity.

If you would like a more vivid drumming experience, Just click on this YouTube link.

Niki and I preferred more sedentary (and cooler) ways to interact with the children during “free” time. During the school day, she worked one on one with fourth and fifth graders.

My first week was spent helping out in the office. Their secretary had abruptly quit right before we arrived, leaving a mountain of unfinished paperwork. A basic principle of Global Volunteers is that you do whatever you are asked to do, so I got busy copying, doing excel spreadsheets, data entry, and report cards. James figured that my years in the insurance industry would mean I was good at office work. I didn’t bother to tell him that wasn’t quite what I did, and once I left the world of paid employment, I said goodbye to PCs to become an Apple devotee. I was shocked at how much windows and excel had changed in just a couple of years! Fortunately, speed was not important, and I was able to figure it out–although the copy machine WAS a bit of a struggle.

The best part of my assignment was I shared the principal’s office, so I got to know this warm, gracious, interesting woman. Because she had recently married, she generously shared her wedding photos and the stories about people in them, her extended family.

In the principal's office — Engia, the principal, and her new secretary

Of course, I was able to take several breaks during the day to play and read with the children, who LOVED to have their photos taken, AND to take photos. Here are a few schoolyard shots.

Stay tuned for the next post–the coronation!

Grander than Grand

Magnificent! Spectacular! Those adjectives are far more accurate descriptions of the natural wonder that we call The Grand Canyon. It is very difficult to capture in a photograph the enormity of this “hole in the ground”.

An early explorer, with the catchy name of James Christmas Ives, was unimpressed. He dubbed it a “profitless locality” and predicted “the Colorado River, along the greater portion of its lonely and majestic way, shall be forever unvisited and undisturbed.” Had cable news been around during his day, he might have had a brilliant career as a pundit. (I leave it to you to decide which station would hire him).

After meeting at the Scottsdale Cottonwoods Resort in Scottsdale, our group of 35 headed off to the Hualapai Lodge in Peach Springs via Sedona and Flagstaff. Our hotel is on the reservation, right by the railroad tracks. Somehow that image didn’t make it into the hotel’s decorative window.It occurred to me that the trains’ engineers might have been a little annoyed that they were working while others were sleeping. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for blasting the horn multiple times as they approached the town. And yes, there were many, many trains–about 1 every 15 minutes. Made me feel really sorry for the people who live in the Peach Springs.

The big attractions for the western Canyon were the helicopter rides down to the canyon’s bottom, river rafting to Lake Mead on the “snout rigs”, and the Sky Walk.

First the Sky Walk. It wasn’t quite what I had envisioned. We didn’t go out on it, but we saw it from the top of the canyon,

then later from our river raft. It’s that silver oval, jutting out from the top of the photo. What do you think? Worth an additional $70?

View of the Sky Walk from the Colorado River

We didn’t think so either.

Back to the western canyon–here’s the view from the rim–very subdued colors, with a sediment laden river (that very brown ribbon) winding along the bottom. The Colorado River is quite low because of 12 years worth of droughts and the additional water needs of the area’s growing population.
Mike and I were in the last group of chopper riders, so we had time to become “one” with the landscape and to take pictures of our new friends as they climbed aboard.

The flat Colorado Plateau gave no hint of what was close by

I was lucky enough to get a front seat.

Prior to this trip, we had toyed with the idea of rafting and camping through the canyon. Our ride on the snout rig absolutely settled that issue!

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Those rigs are not the most comfortable way to travel. And if you are seated in the front, you are guaranteed to get wet, even when there are no rapids. Guess what–the water is COLD.

Our land transportation, on the other hand, was luxurious. Good thing, because we traveled from one end of the canyon to the other: from Lake Mead to Lake Powell, logging many hours on that bus.
Our next stop was the one most visited by tourists–the south rim. The advantage to going a little later in the season was that the park was not crowded. Fortunately, we didn’t go TOO late. Had we waited another week, we would have found the park closed, thanks to our fine congressmen. But that’s another story.

There are so many possible captions for this next photo. “Death Wish”, “Just one more step back, honey”, “Did you send the check to the insurance company?”…

For the more adventurous, the South Rim offers the opportunity to hike (or ride) along Bright Angel Trail.
Dinner at El Tovar was not part of our tour package, but we decided to forgo the Maswick Cafeteria and enjoy that beautiful setting.

Mike and Augusta on the porch at El Tovar

The next morning, while my two favorite traveling companions caught up on their beauty sleep, I returned to the edge of the rim to catch the sunrise.

I had the view pretty much to myself.

Our last leg of the journey was to Glen Canyon where we enjoyed another raft trip and a tour of the dam.

If you look closely at the next photo, you will see our rafts on the left hand side of the river. We get there via a two mile tunnel carved through the rock.

Drew, our fantastic river guide, kept us informed and entertained, as he guided us down the river. A former Marine and lawyer, he chooses to spend his days piloting rafts on the river, and we all benefited greatly from that decision.

Drew explained the significance of the petroglyphs, including the “modern” one. Can you make out the word “Trent” carved into the rock? it seems Trent just had to leave his mark, and in doing so, he also contributed many dollars and hours of community service for defacing a historical site. Yep, he got caught.

Some people never learn. Once again, I sat in the front. Once again, I got SOAKED from head to toe.

We spent our final night in Marble Canyon.

Here it is--the town of Marble Canyon — Here it is–the town of Marble Canyon

The best part about being in such a remote area is the skies are magnificently dark. We were lucky enough to have a professional astronomer with us–Mike gave us a wonderful impromptu lecture on the heavens. It was a great finale to a fantastic trip!

Retirement Redefined

Sometimes the most valuable insights are the ones you stumble upon.

I’ve been very fortunate to be able to spend time in other countries, learning about different cultures, values and philosophies. Doing so brought American culture into sharper focus, but what really helped me examine our way of life from a different vantage point was a piece written by Dr. L Robert Kohls, the Director of International Programs at San Francisco State University. Entitled “Why do Americans Act Like That”, it was intended to help international students deal with culture shock.

Here comes the insight part. It struck me that four of Kohls’ thirteen points provide a great explanation of American attitudes toward retirement. See what you think. I’ve changed the order of the points and slightly shortened some of them, but otherwise directly quoted.

Action/Work Orientation

“Don’t just stand there, do something!” This expression, though normally used in a crisis situation, in a sense describes most Americans’ waking life, where action – any action – is seen as superior to inaction. Americans routinely schedule an extremely active day. Any relaxation must be limited in time and aimed at “recreating” so that they can work harder once their “recreation” is over. Such a “no nonsense” attitude toward life has created a class of people known as “workaholics” – people addicted to, and often wholly identified with, their job or profession. The first question people often ask when they meet each other in the U.S. is related to work: “what do you do?”

Self-Help Initiative

Americans take credit for only what they accomplish as individuals. In an English-Language dictionary, there are more than 100 composite words that have the word “self” as a prefix: self-aware, self-confident, self control. The equivalent of these words cannot be found in most other languages.

Time and Its Control

Time is of utmost importance to most Americans. It is something to be on, kept, filled, saved, used, spent, wasted, lost, gained, planned, given, even killed. Americans are more concerned about getting things accomplished on time than they are with developing interpersonal relations. Their lives seem controlled by the little machines they wear on their wrists.

Future Orientation

Americans value the culture and the improvements the future will surely bring. They devalue the past and are, to a large extent, unconscious of the present. Even a happy present goes largely unnoticed because Americans are hopeful that the future will bring even greater happiness.

Wow. That sure got ME thinking! Or should I say, becoming more “self aware”?

When I announced my intention to retire, the most frequent question I was asked (can you guess?) was “what are you going to do all day”. There you have it–the perfect display of our “work/action orientation”. I’ll admit that after almost 40 years of “to do lists”, objectives, project plans and performance reviews, it took a while for me to truly realize that I don’t HAVE to do anything. A day can be perfect even if at the end of it, I can’t point to a single significant accomplishment. Okay, did you just get a mental image of me plopped on the couch, glassy eyed, with remote in one hand and cheese doodles in the other?

If your ‘self worth” is defined by what you have “made” of yourself, which is generally taken to mean what occupation you have, then retirement can indeed feel like a loss of identity. Couple that with our notions of time and our future orientation, and it becomes clear why many Americans fear the unstructured time that retirement provides.

I realize how fortunate I am to have been able to choose to retire, rather than having retirement thrust upon me because of poor health or job elimination. But for those of you with negative stereotypes about retirement, well, maybe the term “retirement” needs a make-over. Hey, I’ve spent the last 6 decades being bombarded by advertising. I know Madison Avenue can help with this. So, here’s how Peggy Olsen and Don Draper would wordsmith my answer to the question, “what do you do”?

I am the CEO of Destination Now, (well, as its only employee, I am also its receptionist, administrative assistant and janitor, although my husband Mike might argue that last job title belongs to him. But hey, this is MY blog so I get to say what I want) a “lifestyle management” company (whose only customers are Mike and me, although occasionally my bossiness–I mean “management skills”– expand to engulf close friends, sisters and cousins).

Our current projects include containing health care costs, (Okay, so we go to the Y regularly, and I cook healthy meals–no high fructose corn syrup for us, and I swear the red wine and dark chocolate are only consumed for their health benefits) supporting the global economy, (I take my obligation to buy from local vendors very seriously when we travel. That’s where my contest prizes come from!) and promoting early childhood literacy (this last one is real). How’s that? Better?

Now, about that “Future Orientation”…this blog is entitled “Destination Now” to remind me that I have arrived. The first 30 years of my life was preparation: getting educated, finding a life partner, starting on a career path, becoming a mother. The next 30 was implementation: putting all that preparation to work. And now it is fruition: enjoying all of the fruits of prior labors, focusing on the here and now, making the most of every day, even if that means allowing the day to unfold without any plan or need for accomplishments.

Way back during my high school days, one of my closest friends shared with me this definition of success. (Maybe Emerson was the author, maybe not, but does it really matter?) I think it is the perfect ending to today’s post.

Success

To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded.

Home Town Hero

Every town should have its very own super hero. Henry Huttleston Rogers was Fairhaven’s. If you’ve never heard of him, that’s an indication that you don’t live in Fairhaven and you probably took I-195 from Providence to Cape Cod, instead of the more scenic Route 6. Sure, I-195 will get you to the beach faster, but what you miss is a chance to see the impact one of Standard Oil’s “robber barons” can have on a sweet little town.

Henry Huttleston Rogers Memorial on Huttleston Avenue

After you clear the bridge from New Bedford, the highway’s name changes to Huttleston Avenue, and if you look to your left, you’ll see one of the many reasons the town has chosen to honor its home town hero.

The gorgeous Elizabethan stone structure, completed in 1906, is actually Fairhaven High School, Henry Huttleston Rogers’ last gift to the town before his death in 1909. I have never been inside–I attended a regional high school–but my sister Sue (the source of all my inside information) tells me the school has marble floors, wood paneling, and carved gargoyles in the auditorium. The adolescent version of me probably wouldn’t have noticed these grand architectural features anyway. I would have been too busy hoping one of the other auditorium “creatures” would ask me out after the assembly ended.

I DID pass many afternoons during my teen years as a volunteer at Our Lady’s Haven.

Completed in 1905, the building was originally known as the Tabitha Inn. Designed to resemble a Shakespearian era Inn, it was described as the grandest hotel outside of New York and Boston. Samuel Clements, better known as Mark Twain, was one of its frequent guests. It became a home for “the elderly and infirm” after it was purchased by the Catholic Diocese in 1944.

I stopped in to say hello and to take a look around the lobby. Back in my day, it was run by the Carmelite nuns, but today only one nun remains. Lovely Sr. Eileen from Ireland is now running the show, making sure Fairhaven’s senior citizens receive tender loving care.

Next to the Tabitha Inn is a red brick schoolhouse, another gift from Rogers. The school’s last class graduated this year, and the building is now closed, so all future students will be studying in a more modern building.

Rogers Elementary School, closed in 2013

From June through September, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the Fairhaven office of tourism offers 90 minute guided tours, starting at 10 AM from the town hall — and yes, Rogers donated that too. Click on this link for more information about the tour and the town.

I wasn’t crass enough to photograph the interior of Our Lady’s Haven, (not everyone enjoys getting their image blasted into cyberspace) but the interior architecture of the town hall is very similar…so you get the idea of how lovely both places are.

Town Hall Interior--grand staircase, with arches and carved wooden railings — Town Hall Interior–grand staircase, with arches and carved wooden railings

My very special childhood place is across the street from the town hall. The Millicent Library was built in 1890 as a memorial to one of Rogers’ daughter’s, who was 17 when she died.

I don’t think this is a statue of Millicent. Pretty racy for a small town in the 1900’s, wouldn’t you say?

My summer days were spent in the children’s reading room, where I discovered that “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” was only the first in an entire series L Frank Baum wrote about the magical land of Oz. Those books kept the 9 year old me entertained for an entire summer!

As I was leaving the library, one of the friendly residents (did I mention that Fairhaven people are VERY friendly?) asked whether I had noticed Dante atop the library. I never had before–but here he is, for your viewing pleasure.

So, who was Henry Huttleston Rogers–and how did he amass such a huge fortune? Rogers got his start in Pennsylvania, where, in 1861, he and a partner started a small business refining oil. By 1885, he had joined with John D Rockefeller, eventually becoming one of the three key men of Standard Oil. Known as “the Brains of Standard Oil Trust” and “Hell Hound Rogers”, he was a captain of industry.

He was also a generous man who befriended Booker T Washington and paid for Helen Keller’s Radcliffe education.

The “giving” tradition continued with Rogers’ granddaughter, (official name when she died: Mary Millicent Abigail Rogers von Salm-Hoogstraeten de Peralta-Ramos Balcom, but she went by Millicent Rogers–and who can blame her?) who founded the Millicent Rogers museum in Taos, New Mexico to house native American art. The daughter of Rogers’ only son, she was quite a fascinating character–but that’s a subject for another time.

Visitors to Fairhaven should stop at Margaret’s or Elizabeth’s for a great meal. The restaurants are side by side, near the waterfront. If you are lucky, you might get lovely Kristen for your server, and Kevin may be your chef!

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