Category Places

Apr 27 2012

A not so great reminder of why living in the mid-west is GREAT.

Sometimes it’s hard to see the “silver lining” when the clouds continually present themselves.  I decided to create my own meaning for a few could-have-been-disasterous events which have happened recently.  And I relate this meaning to reminding myself why I love living in the mid-west.

Earlier this month my family and I were riding back to Kansas City through the scenic Flint Hills.  We decided to get an early start on the travel home so that we would have some relaxation time when we got there, turns out we needed that relaxation time for a major hiccup in our plans.  Less than thirty minutes into our journey my husband had to pull to the side of the road as the driver’s side front tire deflated.

Together we maneuvered our 2 dogs, yes our whole family was in the vehicle, from the back to the front in order to get to the spare.  Unfortunately, we lacked the key needed to remove the flat tire from the car.  Standing dumbfounded on the side of the interstate with the Acura manual open, a truck pulled up behind us.  A gentleman from a small town, also headed east for a meeting the next day, offered to help us.  He was off duty and employed by the department of transportation.  After figuring out there was nothing we could do to change to the spare without the key the gentleman took my husband into the nearest town to find a way to rectify our situation.

My toddler loved the opportunity to play around in the front seat as we waited for their return.  She bounced around smiling, turning the stereo up and down dancing, and pretending to steer the wheel.  Luckily the weather was perfect to have the windows down and feel a cool breeze.  I made a conscious effort not to look at the time, as I knew it would make the minutes cooped up in the car on the interstate progress in slow motion.

Her entertainment distracted me from two other vehicles who separately pulled up behind us to check on our wellness.  I was surprised each time to see a friendly smile appear at the window asking if we were okay.  Living in the mid-west where it is not out of the ordinary for people to go out of their way to help each other, it still seemed extraordinary that we would have so many generous offers for help.  I believe the larger of my protective guard dogs sensed the sincerity in their offers since he did not bark at the strangers.  In fact, the only noise he made was growling at the curious herd of cows coming to the fence to inspect our situation.

During the time my husband was away, a third car pulled up making that four individuals stopping all together.  This time it was a highway patrol officer and after hearing our situation put his lights on behind us and stayed until their return.  The officer eventually assisted us in calling a tow-truck as we discovered there was no way to unlock the tire and put on the spare.  Despite being irritated from our derailed trip home, my husband and I enjoyed the conversations with the tow-truck driver and highway patrol man as they brought us into town.  The Manhattan Wreckers driver and I discussed my afternoon on the highway and the unexpected offers of help I received.  He recalled his experience with the tornado that came through town three years ago and how members of the community chipped in to ensure everyone was taken care of.  

My poor dogs were stressed enough from the days events and finally we were at the brink of getting new tires and ready to head home.  Another saving grace to the day happened to be friends in town who picked up our pets to give them a break from being in the car and some time to play in a backyard.  We are forever, and repeatedly indebted to the Schottlers, for everything they do for us!

Eventually we made it home tired and safe, adding about 7 hours to what we anticipated it would take for our ride home.  The car had a full set of new tires and drove smooth again.

Exactly nine days later, in our other vehicle, I was again on I-70 when I felt the same feeling of the tire deflating.  “CRAP – How could this happen again?” I thought as I pulled to the side of the interstate.  Determined to be an independent woman and put the spare on all by lonesome, my aspirations were squashed when I couldn’t event figure out how to get the jack to loosen from the side compartment in the trunk.  

Midwest generosity to the rescue again…  A friendly stranger happened to stop behind me to check his own equipment at first and when he realized I was in need of help set aside his own priorities to make sure I was taken care of.  While initially I asked for help loosening the jack, he insisted on completing the whole job.  While he cranked the car up he told me about the grinder he had just purchased and the inventions he had made and sold.  I got a lesson in recycling carpet for plastics and oil, more importantly I received a lesson in going out of my way for others in need.

While I may not be of much assistance pulling over to help someone with a flat tire, there has to be more ways I can pay it forward in order to repay the individuals who have helped me.  These two incidences of flat tires in such a short period of time initially had me irritated and wondering why I had such negative karma being delivered to me.  After the bitterness settled, these situations reinforced my faith in the people living in the community around me.  It is nice to know I’m not all alone when I need help.  Despite the craziness of the world there are good people who do good things with no expectations of a return on their investment.

Nov 23 2011

The Anaconda III – Sailing in the Whitsundays

I spent a semester studying in Australia back in 2003.  I caution using the word “studying” because the semester was more about enjoying the opportunity to travel, have fun and adventure far from home while taking a few classes.  When I first inquired about the option to take a semester abroad I set up a meeting with the study abroad office to check out some universities in Europe that I could go to.  When I arrived for the appointment there was another student there at the same time for the same purpose except she was interested in Australia.  The adviser laid out a map of Australia to show her the options.  She pointed to Perth, Melbourne and Sydney talking about what type of students go to each school and how they spend their time.  She then pointed to Townsville on the Northeastern coast of Australia.  She explained that students go to James Cook University, they get to enjoy the Great Barrier Reef an hour off the coast and the rainforest an hour inland.  The adviser reported that most of her students that attend James Cook call back to make arrangements for staying an extra semester.  After she was done explaining the schools in Australia I told her there would be no need to look at the  schools in Europe, I wanted to go to Townsville.

The next semester I was living life to the fullest and signing up for every adventure imaginable.  I kept a journal for parts of the trip, writing about random nights, tricks to learning the Aussie lingo, stories about bus rides, hearing songs and logs of rugby games attended.  One of my favorite entries is about sailing in the Whitsundays, a trip that I went on with a group of friends over Easter weekend:

Sailing in the Whitsundays, The Anaconda III

Tom, Amy, Crystal, Sarah and I took a 3 day sailing trip in the Whitsunday Islands over our Easter break.  In those 3 days we had quite a few adventures.

One day we stopped at a small island so people could snorkel and lay out.  Crystal, Sarah and I decide to walk around the island.  We get 3/4 of the way around and come to giant boulders that we can’t walk over.  Our options are either to swim around and risk being stung by jelly fish, try to get through the middle of the island which is dense bushes and trees, or try to scale over the rocks.  We attempt the rock climbing.  Even though Sarah and I are in flip-flops we managed climbing over these boulders.  Then we got to a point that we couldn’t cross.  It was too far to jump and we couldn’t get through the woods.  Meanwhile one of the deck hands from out sailboat is watching us from a dingy. (The dingy is the small boat that brings people from the big boat to shore.)

After he realizes that we have nowhere to go and we are freaking out, he manuevers the dingy right up to the rock wall.  One by one he helps us climb down 15 feet.  The 3 of us were laughing hysterically the whole time about what idiots we were that we had to be rescued.

I asked the deck hand if he had ever had to rescue anyone before and all he said was “Not quite like this.”

—-

One night on the boat a whole bunch of people were being entertained by the activity in the back of the boat.  The boat’s cook brought her 13-year-old son on board sometimes if he was off of school.  He was on the back of the boat throwing bread in the water to attract fish…  And then the fish would attract squid.  The kid would throw a lure in the water when he saw a squid and try to catch it.  

When a squid gets scared or attacked its defense mechanism is to spew this black ink stuff.  When the kid felt the squid on his lure he jerked it out of the water and the squid shot it’s ink in the direction it was being jerked.  Imagine the reaction of a dozen young college aged guys and girls when squid ink and guts is flung up at them and over their heads.  That ink made it back 20 feet on the deck of the boat.  Nasty – that is all that could be said.  All of us screamed like it was a horror movie.  

The funny part is that all the same people gathered five minutes later and watched the kid catch another one and the ink shot up again another 20 feet.  I was lucky but some of the people, including Sarah and Crystal for squid ink on their clothes.  

—-

Our last day in the Whitsundays Sarah and I wanted to go diving.  We figured that we could handle going out on our own without a dive master.  So we get all of our equipment and plan that she will lead and I will follow.  We go down and are swimming along at about 6 meters.  The visibility was really bad, you couldn’t see past about 8 feet around you, so you don’t really know what is in the water with you until it is right in front of you.  

After swimming for about 3 minutes Sarah turns around and points to me and then points in a direction signaling for me to take the lead.  But I hate being the leader, I hate having to turn to check if my buddy is still near me, I can’t navigate well underwater and I hate not knowing what’s ahead.  When I follow I feel much more comfortable.  So, I pointed to Sarah and pointed in the direction so that she would lead.

She pointed at me again and I pointed at her.  We pointed back and forth for a minute before agreeing to surface to talk.

After I explained that I cannot lead, Sarah decided that even though she wasn’t very comfortable she would try leading again.  We went back down and I got really scared.  I love diving, it’s like an underwater dreamland but when you can’t see very well it’s like a nightmare.  So I made Sarah end our dive early.  We got back to the surface and laughed about what big wimps we were.  

The same deck hand that rescued us from the rocks came to our rescue again and took us back to the boat.  We weren’t charged for our 7 minute dive.

I am constantly reminded of memories from Australia, people I met and experiences I had during that trip.  For the record, I did return home after one semester – only because I had one semester left before graduation.  My biggest recommendation to high school graduates planning to attend college is to make plans to spend a semester overseas – it is worth the effort and expense.  Studying abroad is an opportunity to learn more about yourself and the world than you could ever learn in a classroom – which is really part of the point of going to college right?

Nov 19 2011

Food for my spirit.

Have you ever had the experience of going to a restaurant where you wondered how you ended up there?  Either someone recommended you try it or it was a random stop on the highway when you needed to eat.  Once you enter the place you notice the atmosphere and begin judging that it will be an awful experience.  The dive looks dark and worn down, years of wear that no one bothered to keep up with repairs and decor.  It feels uninviting and you are ready to leave if it weren’t for being shown to a table – a sign that you were committed to staying. Then when the server approaches it gives you an even further sinking feeling that this experience is going to get worse.  The server also appears a little rough around the edges and slightly abrasive.  You are careful to be extra polite to ensure that she doesn’t end up cursing about you to the kitchen staff.  Finally when your food arrives and the first fork full enters your mouth you are forced to pause as the judgement about the establishment begins to melt and all you can think is “mmmmm…”

Every morsel is devoured with the same “mmm” of satisfaction.  The food is so amazing that you cannot believe that it has taken you all of your life to be sitting there enjoying it.  It’s the kind of meal that excites every taste bud on your tongue and in turn gives you goose bumps down to your toes.  Between the delectable bites you begin to see the restaurant with a new set of eyes, even the server stops to engage in a conversation with a slight smile.  And once you have licked your plate clean, paid your bill and exit the doors of your new favorite secret spot – you can’t help beginning to plot when you could possibly get back there to enjoy the experience all over again.

I know this feeling.  I have been in a situation where my thoughts started “What was I thinking coming here.”  I have been intimidated by the server.  And I have experienced an awakening in my spirit when I visited this secluded location.

This place that I am referring to is not a restaurant, though.  And the server is not presenting food – at least not to me.

I had the honored privilege of getting to stay on the grounds of Endangered Animal Rescue Sanctuary (EARS) in Citra, Florida.  My sister had moved there to volunteer for a couple of months and urged me to come visit.  Of course being an animal lover with an insatiable travel bug buried within me I jumped at the opportunity.  When I arrived at the airport I was met by my sister and the co-founder of EARS.  The co-founder’s name is Gail, and she is much like the server I was referring to earlier.  She probably did greet me with a smile, however, all I remember is her larger than life presence which made me feel on edge to begin with.  She wore a tan safari like shirt with the sanctuary logo, thick mascara on her eye lashes and big hair to match her Georgia drawl.

During the car ride to EARS, Gail spoke firmly about exotic animal breeding and the unwanted animals she had rescued.  She talked about her first experiences with animals, training Elephants overseas, how she ended up in Florida and beginning EARS with Jaye.  I didn’t think that I had ever done anything cruel towards animals, although in that car ride I felt that if I had unintentionally Gail would be able to sniff it out and scar me for it.  My first impression of wanting to stay on her good side ended up being a laughable fear by the end of the trip.

As if my anxiety wasn’t high enough being in the truck with the intimidating server, when we got to Citra it was an even deeper feeling of discomfort.  It was the walk into the restaurant.  Citra is a small town that most would miss on a drive through Florida, empty stores and buildings falling apart.  No nearby ocean or amusements parks there.  Once we entered the gates of the sanctuary all of the wondering “what am I doing here” was gone.

EARS has many big cats – tigers, leopards, lions, cougars.  They also have other unwanted animals like a wolf, bears and monkeys.  And then there are some not so wild animals who needed a safe home like dogs rescued from flooding in New Orleans, random ducks and chickens.  Amazingly, all species seemed to be living in harmony (most separated in appropriate enclosures).  It was an unexplaineably comfortable and content feeling to be on the grounds.

My sister with Delila. She came to EARS after being found during a drug raid, I guess the dealer thought a pit bull just wouldn't do.

My sister and Gail toured me around the property.  It was clear that the animals had a trusting relationship with their human care givers.  This was not just a fondness for the hands that deliver the food, rather true recognition that Gail, my sister and other volunteers truly care and want to protect them.  This was evident especially by the tiger’s chuffing response to them approaching.  I had never even heard that tigers chuff until I was there in person to hear it.  It would be similar to a cat purring in approval, chuffing sounds sort of mechanical like short and rapid puffs of air.   Gail explained where all of the animals came from, she recalled details with dates for each.  The stories varied from a rejected tiger from Las Vegas because he wasn’t pure white, a cougar kicked out of the zoo for walking with a limp, a bear meant for a circus act with mangled paws from a poor attempt to declaw him, and many big cats who were unwanted when they got too big for “pictures with a cub” jobs.  All of the stories were unfortunate, many horrific.  Gail went on to explain that these are the lucky ones because many big cats are killed when they don’t fit into an owners plans.

I learned more about the sanctuary itself and the vision that Gail and Jaye (the other co-founder) have for it.  They strive to have the animals living with dignity, which means excelling state regulations for sizes of cages and time in turnouts.  They act on what is best for the animals instead of minimal guidelines, it also means having to turn away animals in need so that they don’t forfeit the standards for the animals already there.  It is quickly apparent when talking with Gail and Jaye how dedicated they are.  Both live on the property in side by side homes.  They sacrifice personal time, human relationships and steady incomes to be able to provide a good quality of life for the animals, a sort of priceless dedication most people could not fathom.

Both Gail and Jaye are relentless educators and advocates.  Gail provides group tours on occasion to help encourage donations and teach the public about the dangers of breeding exotic animals.  Jaye drives all over the south delivering food to other sanctuaries for a minimal profit to help keep EARS running.

Leopard brothers, Tafari and Odoki. Swahili for "one who inspires awe" and "little brother"

Being able to spend time getting to know Gail and Jaye, working the labor intensive weekend at the sanctuary, seeing the tigers up close and witnessing their personalities, waking up to lions roaring not far outside my window, letting a vervet monkey pick threads off my shirt, feeding animal crackers to a bear…  It was a weekend that warmed my soul and reinvigorated my spirit.  I was re-energized to dedicate myself to my passions and to do it with integrity.  The memory of this experience, this place and these two women will stay with me indefinitely.  I left there immediately plotting how soon can I get back?  I know that the best place for exotic animals is in the wild and if they can’t be there – the next best place would be at EARS with Gail and Jaye looking out for them.

If you would like to know more about the animals, the co-founders and the sanctuary I would encourage you to check out their website at: www.earsinc.net

ps. There is a sound bite of the tiger SuSu chuffing under the multimedia section – Check it out!