THE JOY OF SHARED HISTORY

Two years ago I had the joy of celebrating a milestone birthday with my High School classmates, and most recently, I reunited with the Peace Corps Volunteers I spent two years with in Tanzania, East Africa. What is it about a shared history, I wondered, that connects us for life, as I walked into the room of Peace Corps Volunteers I hadn't seen in 47 years, but instantly felt close to....
The first thing that came to my mind is that we all had done something profound together, and, at times, something hard where we supported and encouraged each other. We agonized over stuff; laughed deeply together, and "held each other's hand" during tough moments. In many ways, we survived together. Like army buddies, there is a depth of feeling for each other that cannot be penetrated.
Two (although there were many) moments in my shared history come immediately to mind; one, the love and support I received from my High School classmates when a "silly" prank got me into deep water with the good nuns of Notre Dame de Namur. When we all get together, everyone still loves telling this story! We all agonized over my fate together. In Africa, I dodged several serious "bullets" with the help of my Peace Corps buddies and am still here to write about it. Life and death situations shared together certainly connects us! In Colorado during the 80ies, what connected me to my neighborhood girlfriends in Homestead Farm were the joys and traumas of growing up together, trying to become adult-like and becoming parents when all we really wanted to do was party! To this day, I know that those friends helped raise my children and I helped raise theirs.
I have moved away from each of these special groups and as I get older, it becomes harder and harder to have in my life, these kinds of extraordinary, special groups; there just isn't the time to develop the history. For this reason, I will always rejoice when in their company, and be a little sad when they are gone.

50th Peace Corps Celebration/Tanzania

On December 5, 1964, eighty P.C. volunteers met at Kennedy Airport in New York City to embark on a two year adventure in Tanganyika, East Africa. We would be the 6th Peace Corps group into Tanganyika, and we were going to teach school, most of us, for the first time in our lives, partly in the language of Swahili. We had trained for three months at Syracuse University and were now ready to go. Looking at the picture of this group in New York, sent to me by a fellow volunteer, I wonder now what each of us was thinking at that moment. Me? I was both scared and excited for this adventure to begin, having said good-bye to my Dad, Mom & six siblings who sent me off , by train, from Cincinnati, Ohio (all of us in tears.). At the time, not much was known about the "dark" continent of Africa, so my family was also scared for me to leave. But, oh well; I went anyway.
Forty-seven years later at the 50th Celebration of Peace Corps in Washington, D.C., I met this adventurous group again! Three days sped by as we looked closely at each other for signs of recognition; got names & places strait; shared memories and stories (and pictures); learned what life had brought to each of us, and laughed until the single digit hours of the morning over glasses of wine. We felt like a family again. The years just slipped away, back to the place where we all lived in Tanganyika (Tanzania) for two years both together and separately. We listened to an update of Tanzania 'today' by the former American Ambassador to Tanzania, and left Washington very proud of what we had done and what we had contributed to that Africa country.
Today, there are 125 Peace Corps volunteers in Tanzania, East Africa serving in the fields of health, Aids prevention, Environment, Engineering and Education (Tanzania has asked for many more U.S. teachers). President Obama feels that Tanzania is one of the strongest and well run countries in Africa today.
Aside from all that, personally, this was one of the most wonderful, thrilling, satisfying and fun adventures of my life.

50th Celebration Peace Corps

On this coming Thursday, September 22, 2011, I will fly to Washington, D.C. for the 50th celebration of the Peace Corps. In November of 1964, after joining and training for the Peace Corps, I flew to Tanzania, East Africa to teach for two years in an African boys' boarding school, called Mysengi Upper Primary School in Musoma, Tanzania right on Lake Victoria, the second largest lake in the world. It was one of the highlights of my life and to this day, it was one of the best things I ever did for myself!!! I am going to continue this entry with a "writing" I did for "The Summit," my high school in Cincinnati, Ohio, when it came out with a book called, "This I Believe." I share this with all of you in celebration of the Peace Corps of 50 years.
Entry:
I left Cincinnati by train on a snowy November morning. My family, mom, dad, two brothers and four sisters were all at Winton Train Station to see me off. Everyone was crying and my youngest sister, Chris, held me tight, not wanting to let me go. I was off to New York City to meet the Peace Corps Group I had trained with for three months at Syracuse University, and then heading to East Africa for two years. There I would teach school at Mysengi Upper Primary School, a boys' boarding school in Musoma, Tanzania, right on Lake Victoria. To the alarm of my mother, (my dad was too proud of me to be alarmed) I was off to the Dark Continent that, at this time, few people seemed to know much about. I was alarmed myself, and very scared, but I did not want to show I was feeling less brave than my family thought I was, and when I waved tearfully good-bye to them through the train window, my stomach doing flip-flops, I had no idea this would be one of the most enriching experiences of my life.
Living in a third world country, being a minority for the first time in my life, and having to communicate in Swahili taught me many things about myself, and about what is really important in life. I experienced a completely different and more simple way of living; a way of life which had never occurred to me before. As an American with a task-orientated mind-set, I was always in a hurry to get something done; to accomplish something. In Africa, the pace was much slower, the Africans taking time to be with each other, to laugh and talk together, and to help each other. They went about their lives with a joy and happiness I had never known before. One day, while I was racing to town on my bike with an important errand, my African neighbor ran out into the road waving her arms. Annoyed with delay, I almost missed her beautiful gift to me. Mrs. Mbaya stood in my path and sang Happy Birthday to me in perfect English. She had been practicing for weeks, and this was her present to me on my birthday. She knew no other English.
Over two years time, I came to love the African people and all the ways they had of living more simply on the earth. The school children taught me how to plant a vegetable garden (this city girl had never done that before) and to enjoy their simple games with sticks and stones they found all around them. They loved to sing, and showed me the joy that came from music and singing, no matter what the task. The sweet voices of the African children still ring in my heart today. I can still hear them singing. Their presents to me were always simple, like the birthday song. Sometimes it was something they had cooked or woven together like wild flowers or a small basket. One day, a knock on my door brought two African students to my porch holding an empty bird's nest for me, huge smiles on their faces that melted me more than the hot beating sun..
The African people were models of courage and endurance to me. Some of our students walked ten miles or more each morning to school. This included all of the girls who could not board at the school. Most never missed a day. And when faced with danger, i.e. a giant python in our school yard one day, the Africans went towards the problem with a solution instead of running away. That day, the whole school followed behind or African headmaster with a rifle over his shoulder to hunt the python that was making its way toward the Lake.
At the time I taught school in Africa, only ten percent of male students were able to go on to high school due to a shortage of secondary teachers and facilities. The competition to go on to high school was fierce. When one day we had to miss a class due to a late breakfast, the students refused to eat unless we made up their class on Saturday. Education and learning are so important to the African children, and the opportunities for higher education are rare, even today. The African children taught me to appreciate my education more than I ever had, and to not take it for granted. I found the African people I lived and worked among to be genuinely happy people in spite of hardships. They knew how to smile, laugh, dance, tease, and joke with each other and to find happiness in simple things. What a life lesson for me! They had so much fun with my inadequate ability to speak good Swahili, and would love to tease me, but were always gracious in trying to help me speak better. Most of all, they knew how to laugh at themselves, and taught me to do the same.
What do I believe? I believe in taking some risks in life, and getting out of our comfort zones. I was afraid when I went to Africa, but I did it anyway. I remember thinking that I had a 50/50 chance of ever coming home, but the experience enriched my life more than I could ever have imagined, and I think I did some good along the way. Today, I still try to stretch myself, learn more, get out of my comfort zone now and then, and never forget the lessons I learned in Africa.

Small Town Support

In my book, "To See a Sundog," I begin with the line: "The town of Sawhill, Missouri is like a mobile that gently swings back and forth, and on most days it swings in harmony, but when one side of the mobile tips and bends, the whole town tips and bends with it." Further in the book, I talk about the help everyone gives to each other in small towns especially in times of crisis, i.e. the time one of the town's well know farmers brakes his back, and the rest of the men around Sawhill bring in his crops after their own crops are harvested. (A lot of work!) Saturday night, I had the occasion to experience this kind of small town help and support for a young man from my husband's small town of Colfax, Illinois who has cancer, without insurance, where 200 plus of the town's people came together for a fund-raising effort and raised over $15,000.00. My husband and I attended and saw just about everyone we knew in Colfax, from the youngest to oldest. Food was donated and served; a band played without cost; a bake-sale ensued (I actually baked a cherry pie), 20 donated, filled baskets were auctioned in a silent auction, and there was also a live auction of about 50 items, all donated. Everyone was having a great time, and always surprising to me (a city girl), everyone knew everyone!!! I know that small town America is not for everyone, but the interconnection of lives lived, laughed, succeeded and struggled together is one of the biggest rewards of this way of life. It has been my privilege to be part of it in a small way.

A Walk in the Woods on our Farm

We have had a whole week of Fall-like weather which has been a great relief after a very hot summer. We have been anxious to get out to our farm in the country to enjoy the lake there, and also to have a picnic and bon-fire which we especially like to do in September/October. Several years ago, my husband and his two brothers decided to put our farm of some 80 acres into conservation. In doing this, they reclaimed the lake that had dried up, created a road, and then planted some 3,000 trees! The Barclay men did all of this work themselves, and now continue to trim areas for better sunlight to trees, maintain a walking trail through the woods, and stock the lake with fish. Our family has come to love this special place in the woods, and tomorrow, we will have a gathering there for a cook-out followed by a bon-fire. The above picture shows our picnic table where we will dine. To me, there is nothing better than being out in nature.....the farm is so peaceful and perfect with only the sounds of chirping birds, rustling trees in the wind and an ocassional fish jumping in the lake. Lovely butterflies flit about, and sometimes we encounter the deer that live in our woods. William Wordworth wrote, "the world is too much with us; late and soon...Guilty and spending; we lay waste our powers...Little we see in Nature that is ours....." For me, I enjoy turning off the T.V., muting the cell phone, shutting down the computer, and going for a walk in the woods....the real peace and joy for me can be found there.

Rabbit Hash, Kentucky

How many times have we wanted to take the road less traveled; go down an unknown path or enjoy the mystery (and, or risk) of an unknown adventure? I think the human spirit craves this kind of thing, and so, without hesitation, I agreed to participate with my artist sister in an arts and crafts show in Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. If you live in Cincinnati where my sister lives, you get to Rabbit Hash by crossing the Ohio River and then going south on I75 until a turnoff that brings you right along the historical Ohio River on the Kentucky side. I say historical because this river, a little upstream from Cincinnati, was one of the main crossing places for the Underground Railroad where slaves were able (where the river was low and narrow) to cross over from a slave state to a free state. If you ever get to Cincinnati, be sure to visit the inspirational Underground Railroad Museum there, downtown right on the river. But I diverse. Back to Rabbit Hash....and getting there. The winding road you are on along the river narrows to one lane after you have passed beautiful horse farms with those wonderful white wood fences, and soon you are, almost without noticing, right in the middle of Rabbit Hash, a town with one General Store (above), one place to eat, and lots of charm, history and old stuff gathered in the one large antique store. Like so many places hidden away from theInterstate Highways we travel, this place is a treasure, and a slice of America that most of us never see as we race from one place to another. I am glad now that I know about Rabbit Hash, with its charm and beauty along the Ohio River, but it makes me wonder what other places I am missing as I hurry the highways. I am fortunate to live on the edge of the country amidst so many small farm towns and communities, yet, have the conveniences of a large town. I know what is beyond our highways, and it is worth getting off the Interstate now and then to take a look, and experience the wonder, life and beauty just over the horizon left and right....

Back to Blogging

It has been way too long since my last BLOG, but I have just finished reading a Biography called, "Reading My Father," by the author's daughter, Alexandra Styron about her Dad (William Styron) who won the Pulitzer for the novel, "Sophie's Choice" in the 80ies and the writing juices began to flow in me again. I really am happiest when I am writing, and so, once again, I am committing to this BLOG on a regular basis. Not every day, but regularly! I remember starting to read "Sophie's Choice" back when I lived in Denver, and I cried all day and into the next. My husband asked me what was wrong, and I said that the book I was reading made me so sad. My husband, in his wisdom, said, "Well then, stop reading it!" I took his advice and never finished it. On the other hand, the book I just finished about the author is very, very good, and his daughter is an excellent writer in her own right. Actually, the story is as much about her own path in life, growing up with an overbearing Dad with mental illness as it is about the author himself. I have been reading lots of Biography and Autobiography and I find that I really like these books the best...the real stuff and struggles of life. I am now reading "J.D. Salinger," by Kenneth Slawenski, copyright 2010 and am so fascinated by this character that I plan to go back and reread, "Catcher in the Rye" and the Glass Family books. Salinger became such a mystery and recluse in his later adult years, but in his early years of writing, he was quite visable and fasinating. I recommend both of these books if you enjoy reading about the real lives and struggles of famous authors. Tomorrow, I want to tell you about my time with my sister in Rabbit Hash, Kentucky this summer!