Notes from Abroad & Home

Cozy Little Shed

2012-01-01T19:12:00.003-05:00

The first day of this new year, 2012, and I am sitting on a North Carolina hillside inside my cozy little shed aka art studio. It's fully-insulated for the cold winter months ahead -- complete with a skylight to bring in that southern exposure sunlight, track lighting for that extra bit of light and an electric radiator.

Outside, the temperature is near freezing, so the little heater keeps the 8x12 foot room cozy. A strong wind is blowing the tall poplar and oak trees -- and the pines are whispering through their needles.

Over the last few weeks, I've worked up a series of new paintings from this little shed -- feel free to view them here.

I wanted to move in a new direction with my work and have started adding symbols -- mostly ancient ones -- to the pieces. One exception is the painting the Russian Ballerina.

I recently watched the grand re-opening of the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow after a multi-million dollar renovation. One of the performances included Swan Lake. I was really struck with the passion of the performers in the piece. It was performed with a stark blue background -- which worked well with the white costumes.

Beyond the Limits of Technology

2011-12-21T18:21:00.000-05:00

It's odd.

I've lived in some pretty remote places around the globe, but I always had relatively decent internet -- in terms of speed and reliability.

Here in the mountains of western North Carolina, you're lucky to get something slightly faster than dial-up. It's as if my neighborhood has been forgotten. In fact, the local phone company technician said "you're beyond the limits of technology."

It's true. The phone company says I'm one mile too far from their DSL service. Better yet, I'm just 400 yards from where the other internet provider, the cable company, terminates its service. If I climb the hill and look south, I can see the pole where the cable service stops.

The most reliable service here, beyond the limits of technology, is satellite-delivered internet. It's so-so -- faster than dial-up, but not by much -- Skype won't work and there is a limit on how much bandwidth you can use per month.

The only other option is wireless. Now that the leaves have fallen off the trees, I get a better signal from the cell tower just over the mountain. I get two bars on my Ipad -- not bad -- Skype works, occasionally and I can sometimes watch live streaming.

It really depends on the weather -- if it's cloudy, sometimes the wireless doesn't work and when it's raining or snowing -- the satellite internet always goes out.

So, right now, conditions are pretty good -- I'm able to post to my blog and tweet -- every now and then.

For now, my fingers are crossed that one day soon, I will no longer be beyond the limits of technology in America.

Long Time Gone and SOPA

2011-12-14T19:08:00.000-05:00

It has been a while since I have been here.

I've been spending time painting. You can check out my work at www.csrice.com.

I've also been following closely a piece of legislation called SOPA or Stop Online Piracy Act. You've probably seen the commercials if you watch TV. It's goal is to stop the online pirating of movies, music and other copyrighted material.

However, the legislation is a bad piece of paperwork -- it over-reaches and could have a disastrous affect on internet freedom.

Harvard law professor Laurence Tribe notes how a number of ways SOPA violates the First Amendment.

“SOPA provides that a complaining party can file a notice alleging that it is harmed by the activities occurring on the site ‘or portion thereof .’ Conceivably, an entire website containing tens of thousands of pages could be targeted if only a single page were accused of infringement. Such an approach would create severe practical problems for sites with substantial user-generated content, such as Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, and for blogs that allow users to post videos, photos, and other materials.”

A vote on SOPA is scheduled for tomorrow, Thursday, December 15, in the House. If you feel strongly about how SOPA could impact the internet as we know it -- it may be time to contact your member of Congress.

North Carolina: Internet With Conditions

2011-11-13T15:26:00.000-05:00

I have to be mindful of my internet usage.

I have few options, one of which is satellite-delivered internet. It's ok if you are checking your email and doing a bit of surfing, using twitter or writing a blog. Skype doesn't work at all. Downloading movies and music are also a no-no -- simply because of the limits on download usage.

In the woods with my laptop.

In addition to the satellite internet, I use a not-very-stable data flash-key that delivers internet via a mobile phone provider. I plug into the USB port on my laptop and sometimes it works, but most times it doesn't. However, if I climb to the top of the mountain behind the house (great exercise) -- the flash-key works really well -- although the speed is so-so. Still, I grabbed my laptop, stuck it in my backpack and hiked up through the woods to give it a try. I was curious to see if I would be able to download a movie.

I sat down on the high ground -- with five bars on my flash-key and gave it a whirl.

The result: a 90 minute movie would have taken about ten hours to download.

If only there were electrical outlets deep in the forest!

North Carolina: Laurel River Video Postcard

2011-11-12T11:47:00.000-05:00

Moscow: A Holiday Video Postcard

2011-11-02T13:05:00.000-04:00

Azerbaijan: A Video Postcard

2011-11-02T08:41:00.000-04:00

Georgia: A Video Postcard

2011-10-31T21:05:00.001-04:00

Moldova: Shepherd With His Flock

2011-10-30T23:23:00.000-04:00

I was walking along a grassy area outside the village of Giurgiulesti in southern-most Moldova and a shepherd came walking up with his flock of sheep. The song is traditional Moldovan music.

Moldova: Greeting

2011-10-30T12:36:00.000-04:00

Upon arrival in the village of Giurgiulesti, I was greeted by a group of students with salt and bread. It's a traditional greeting -- a way to welcome a guest after a long journey.

These young men are dressed in traditional Moldovan clothing -- with a beautiful piece of cloth that is under the bread -- it has been hand stitched.

The boots are absolutely cool!

Moldova: Around Chisinau, the Capital

2011-10-27T15:00:00.000-04:00

Moldova: The Central Market

2011-10-27T14:48:00.000-04:00

Homemade Sunflower Oil

Grains

More Grains

Large Grapes

Moldova: More Homemade Wine!

2011-10-27T14:36:00.000-04:00

My stay in Moldova has been an absolute thrill and delight.

The wine in this plastic jug might just be the best I had all week!

I spent most of my time sampling homemade wine from my wonderful hosts in the village of Giurgiulesti. Almost every family I met makes their own wine and takes great pride in doing so -- they also love to share it.

On my last evening in the village, I was invited to my colleague Monika's house.

I savored every sip.

The wine this particular night might just be the best I tasted all week -- although, I can't be sure. It was absolutely superb though. It was a rich dark red color -- after about 30 days in the wine barrel.

Each family has its own wine cellar -- with a wooden barrel with a tap. Need wine? Just walk downstairs with a plastic jug and fill 'er up.

Moldova: Cold

2011-10-25T09:51:00.001-04:00

The cold has descended on the village of Giurgiulesti in southern Moldova; however, the heat has just barely come on at the house where I am staying. The radiators are lukewarm, but at least they knock off the chill. For some reason, my hosts decided the best solution last evening was to give me two plastic bottles filled with hot water rather than to turn on the gas furnace. If the furnace is anything like the one I had in Tajikistan, it's complicated and a bit of the dangerous side.

As for those two bottles: "for the feet," my host said.

"For the feet!"

Thankfully, I had packed thermal clothing and a good knit cap. They helped tremendously.

This morning, my host proudly announced that he would turn the heat on today and sure enough, at lunch time, the place was slightly warmer than cold.

Moldova: Shepherd

2011-10-25T02:16:00.002-04:00

I was walking along the river Prut at Giurgiulesti village and came across Okasani tending her sheep in the high grass along the river bank.

The village sits at the confluence of the Prut and Danube Rivers. The rivers provide Moldova with its only access to the sea -- in this case the Black Sea -- Moldova is otherwise land-locked.

The River Prut -- that's Romania on the left side of the river.

Moldova: A village funeral

2011-10-24T11:42:00.001-04:00

A funeral procession for an elderly woman in Giurgiulesti

Within hours of arriving in the southern-most village in Moldova, called Giurgiulesti, I saw a funeral procession along the main street, the only paved street in the village.

The funeral was for an elderly lady and it included her family and friends as well as the priest -- walking along the edge of the busy street -- carrying her open casket -- on their way to the village cemetery. At the very back of the procession, a woman carried a metal bucket full of wine -- that she gave to people along the procession route as they made their way to the graveyard.

The open casket is carried by loved ones.

I visited the cemetery earlier in the day and was told by my colleague that each Monday after Easter -- the entire village gathers at the cemetery to honor their dead relatives -- there are even picnic tables set up among the gravestones -- where the families bring a feast of food to celebrate the life of their loved ones.

Picnic tables are set up at many family tombstones for the after-Easter feast.

Some families also have feasts at the cemetery on the anniversary of their loved ones' death. Wine is very important in this ceremony as well -- with the family sharing wine together and pouring wine on the grave.

Moldova: Great Homemade Wine and Many Toasts!

2011-10-24T05:07:00.002-04:00

Constantine starts with Moldovian Cognac

Constantine brought out a two liter plastic bottle filled with wine and placed it under the table. It was brought out after all the glasses on the table had been filled with Moldovan cognac. “It’s the best Moldovan cognac,” he assured me, “the best.” It was the same brand that I had had the night before at my home-stay in the village of Giurgiulesti – the southern-most point in Moldova – and also the confluence of the Prut and Danube Rivers.

If you stand on the hillside along the village you can easily look over into Ukraine to the left and Romania off to the right. Tudor, my home-stay host, said “this is one of only seven places in the world where there is such a triangle. It immediately reminded me of the similar geographical border at Thailand-Burma and Cambodia.

After a couple of toasts with the Moldovan cognac, Constantine, who had thrown a party with his wife, reached for the plastic bottle of wine under the table and began pouring it into glasses – slightly bigger than shot glasses. The wine had a rich dark red color and I expected it would be quite sweet.

It was not.

It had a rich flavor and Constantine proudly announced it was from his own grapes – and it was from this year’s crop.

Grapes and Wine!

In between the toasts, we had quite a feast – minced meat, chicken, mashed potatoes, cabbage, potato salad – heavy on the eggs and imitation crab meat (delicious by the way), grapes from his vineyard and all sorts of Ukrainian chocolates.

I lost count after five or six toasts with the red homemade wine – and as I got up from the table and walked to the car – Constantine tapped me on the shoulder and said – ‘wait, wait, I will be right back.”

He returned shortly with the still half-filled plastic bottle of home-made wine (the second plastic bottle of home-made wine) and said we must finish it. Just when I thought I could drink no more – he first poured one glass, then half a glass and then another full glass of wine. Wow. Between myself, Constantine and Tudor, we finished it off, but I’m not sure how we did it. It had been a long time since I had drunk so much wine, but the thing is – Moldovan wine is so good – it is hard to stop.

The next morning…..

I’m impressed with the home-made wine. There is no hangover!

Istanbul

2011-10-17T22:29:00.001-04:00

If you've ever been to Istanbul, you've experienced the Call to Prayer.

It is quite a spiritual experience even for those who don't consider themselves religious.

I've been to Istanbul many times and have experienced the Call to Prayer at all hours of the day and night. It's a great early morning wake up call!

This video is from a visit a few years ago. I recorded it near the Blue Mosque and added images and video -- including some Sufu dancing that I recorded at the old train station in Sultanahmet -- my favorite part of the city.

In my recording, the Call to Prayer starts at the Blue Mosque, but throughout the recording -- you will begin to hear the Call to Prayer start at other mosques around the city. It is quite enchanting to experience it live.

Tennessee: Bears in the Woods

2011-10-16T11:01:00.002-04:00

Momma Bear along the Laurel Falls path

I saw my second and third bears of the year, yesterday, in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park -- and they were up close!

A cub and her mom were hanging out in a tree when I spotted them along the Laurel Falls trail. Shortly afterward, momma bear decided it was high time to climb down -- baby bear quickly followed her.

Come on down!

A handful of tourists took off up the trail, but most stuck around to see what would happen. Basically, the bears ignored the tourists and shutterbugs and hung around under the tree for a while.

Not too close.....

I walked on up to the falls -- nice, but not spectacular -- too crowded.

Earlier in the day, I was caught in a traffic jam on the parkway. It must have been four or five miles long -- apparently another bear and its cub were along the roadway and everything came to a stop. It felt like being back in DC on the Beltway -- this delay was 90 minutes, but the view was worth it -- amazing fall colors.

At the higher elevations in North Carolina and Tennessee, this is/was probably the peak weekend.

Bascom Lamar Lunsford Festival

2011-10-03T21:11:00.000-04:00

It was a cold day in Mars Hill, North Carolina on Saturday, but the outdoor music went on -- right on schedule. After all, it was the Bascom Lamar Lunsford Festival. Lunsford was a musician and collector of folk songs. He was probably the biggest promoter of Southern Appalachian music.

I think he would have been proud of Saturday's program.

Musician and storyteller Joe Penland of Marshall led a group of ballad singers as they sat around in rocking chairs swapping stories and songs. There was musicians playing that traditional "mountain" instrument -- the hammered dulcimer and -- plenty of guitars and banjos.

I happened to wander up as George and Brooke Buckner took the stage and captured this tune.

Return to High Rock

2011-10-02T21:14:00.001-04:00

It was an absolutely perfect day for a hike today!

Hike Destination: The High Rock

The gray skies turned to an azure blue and the 40 degree temperature climbed to a comfortable 60. The trail, itself, an old logging road -- was challenging in that it was heavily grown over with blackberry and raspberry briars and small, prickly locust trees -- at one point -- it required crawling on hands and knees under the briars. The hike was approximately four miles, round-trip.

Once on top of the mountain, a four-wheeler trail led through the woods and up to the magnificent rock -- the High Rock. It slowly comes into view as you start to crest the forested hill just to the south of the rock. The northeastern side of the rock was covered with lichen while the southwestern side was clean -- except for holes bored into the stone. One was a perfect circle, the other looked more haphazard.

I had heard that Native Americans had cut a turkey foot into the stone, so Jack, my hiking partner, and I searched as much of the large stone as possible. It reaches 30 to 40 feet into the air -- and appears to have been some sort of spiritual or special site. Suddenly, about 12 feet up on the southern side of the rock, I spotted a cross. Does it represent the four directions -- North, South, East and West? It is difficult to say -- and we have no way of dating this petroglyph.

According to the Cherokee, who lived in this part of North Carolina, each of the four main directions corresponds to a color, and each color is a symbol. For instance, East, triumph, red; North, defeat, blue; West, death, black; and South, peace, white.

Notice the cross carved in the stone. The work of Native Americans?

Another view of the cross carved on High Rock.

About five feet to the right of the cross was what appears to be the turkey foot. It is extremely difficult to make out and was almost impossible to photograph, but the cuts in the stone appear to be a turkey foot. The Cherokee apparently considered the turkey as very sacred.

Two holes on the southwestern side of the rock.

View of High Rock from the southwest

I had visited the high rock several times, but this was the first time I spotted the petroglyphs. Are they ancient or from our more recent past? I'd like to think they are the former. There is no doubt that the place is special. It's a challenging hike, but well worth the effort -- if only for the view!

Cherokee Nation Dancers

2011-09-18T18:33:00.000-04:00

I wanted to share another beautiful dance with you that I recorded at the Southeast Tribes Festival in Cherokee, North Carolina this past weekend.

Cherokee Festival

2011-09-18T14:09:00.002-04:00

I used to avoid the Cherokee Reservation in North Carolina. Too commercial, not much real culture on display.

The Southeast Tribal Festival in Cherokee, NC

However, I drove to the reservation on Saturday for the multi-nation Tribal Festival and was pleasantly surprised. I had a blast. If you avoid the ticky-tacky souvenir shops, it was like stepping into a different country for a few hours: the colorful traditional clothing, the dancing and hypnotic chanting, the storytelling and the first Indian tacos I'd had in 15 years. Fry bread is greasy, but oh so delicious. It's something you eat maybe twice a year.

Here's a short video of one dance. The chanting is very hypnotic and peaceful.

The most unusual part of the festival was the stick ball game. It's like a cross between lacrosse, soccer and American football. It's played with small lacross-like sticks and a tiny ball that appeared to be the size of a walnut. It requires keen eyesight.

Here are a few pictures from Saturday's festival in Cherokee, North Carolina.

Blowgun Competition

Youngsters carry on the traditional dancing.

Choctaw Nation Dancers

Colorful clothing

Storytelling with a flute as a prop.

Stick Ball is a contact sport!

It's played barefoot.

The ball is just in front of the player with the blue shorts, above his wooden racket.

A Dangerous Path?

2011-09-18T13:04:00.000-04:00

As we reflect this month on the 9/11 attacks, it's worth thinking about where we are headed as a nation since 9/11. Fear has been a driving force in our policies aimed at rooting out terrorists and terror plots.

Slowly, but steadily, it is leading to less and less freedom for all of us.

Since 9/11 literally dozens and dozens of new government-financed programs have sprouted up -- with nearly a million employees. We have no idea how much money is being spent (billions no doubt), how much duplication is involved and most importantly, how effective these new programs are in terms of keeping us safe.

We appear to be spending our way into bankruptcy. It reminds me of what was said after the fall of the Soviet Union -- something along the lines of: 'we spent them into bankruptcy'. Is this al-Qaeda's end-game?

Dana Priest and William Arkin have written a book, Top Secret America, that is a well-researched piece of investigative journalism. A must-read for those of us concerned about our country becoming something we no longer recognize -- all in the name of national security.

Where Were You?

2011-09-08T09:22:00.000-04:00

The September 11th tragedy is one of those events that was so catastrophic one will always remember where they were when it first happened.

I was at home in suburban Washington, DC and had just opened the Washington Post homepage and saw a photo of a plane striking one of the twin towers. My first thought -- someone had hacked into the website and inserted the photo. A few seconds later, I got a call from my mom. Information was still sketchy. Was it an accident? I hung up and then got a call from my managing editor at AP. "Get here as quickly as you can," he said.

I was ready for work, so I jumped in my car and drove to my Metro station. I recall flipping on the radio to National Public Radio, but there was nothing.

A few minutes later, I am on the Metro for the 20 minute ride into DC. The train was eerily quiet. One rider, a middle-aged man, was listening to the radio on headsets and periodically, he would relay what he heard to the rest of us on the train. No one spoke except the man listening to the radio. There was something about a suspicious car parked in front of the U.S. State Department -- a plane was flying toward DC. It was frightening.

Then, the train pulled into Rhode Island station. The station is above ground and off in the distance -- I could see a huge black cloud of smoke. I remember it being so black and so big. I'd never seen anything like it.

It was 9:37am. I did not know it at the time, but American Airlines Flight 77 had just struck the Pentagon.

What I did know is that something terrible was happening and I needed to get to work. This may sound strange, but my biggest fear was that my Metro train would terminate service before my station stop and I would have to literally run dozens of blocks to the Associated Press office.

We approached Union Station -- stopped -- and then continued on and finally arrived at my stop, Farragut North. I ran the two blocks to my office and burst into the newsroom.

TV monitors were showing the planes striking the Twin Towers, one of our reporters had witnessed the plane flying into the Pentagon from the balcony of his condo. He was being interviewed on the phone -- describing in detail what he had seen. It was surreal. Is this happening? When am I going to wake up? In the background, the news channels kept playing the same video over and over. I am trying to make sense of it all, knowing that within a few minutes I would have to go on the radio and calmly tell listeners what was happening.

For the next 12 hours or so, I somehow managed to do my job. It was probably the most difficult day of my life -- in terms of trying to remain coherent and calm while inside -- I am refusing to accept what I am seeing before me -- It really felt like I was part of a movie and at some point, the director would shout: "cut."

By the time I finished anchoring -- some 11 or 12 hours of coverage -- I was mentally exhausted. My head was filled with all the sounds and images from our reporters and the TV. Walking onto K Street that night, the air was refreshing -- it was so quiet.

Half a block down the street from my office, I was shaken by what I saw: troops were parked in military vehicles at the intersection of K and 18th Street. I seem to recall seeing an anti-aircraft gun. It was shocking. One just didn't see such things in America.

It was almost as if what I was seeing confirmed everything that I had been describing on the radio for the past 12 hours. Sitting inside a studio -- in a cocoon-like environment -- I had been isolated, in one respect from what was happening, but walking onto the street and seeing the troops -- somehow -- made it all real.

What do you recall from that day?

Feel free to share.

Click here to listen to real time audio from September 11.

Lexington Avenue Arts and Fun Festival aka LAAFF

2011-09-04T10:46:00.002-04:00

Bang the Drum Slowly

Three blocks of fun with plenty of fashion statements made for a day of laughs and inspiration at a little festival in Asheville called LAAFA or Lexington Avenue Arts and Fun Festival. There were dueling knights on bicycles, fire dancers, gypsy music, silver-plated mimes and a cacophony of costumes.

Fire Dance

If this was a bit too much, just head three blocks east to the City-County Plaza for Shindig on the Green -- a mountain music program that featured square dancing, cloggers and lots of banjo pickers.


High School Bluegrass Band from Marshall, NC

Asheville's diversity was certainly on display this weekend. Here are photos from both events.

Come Here, My Dear!

Knights on Bikes

Juggler in Cowboy Boots on Ball with Knives


Now in High Heels

Balance

Sun Painting

Balloon Man

Gypsy Band

Bottle Cap Truck

Vega

Storyteller/Singer/Songwriter Joe Penland

Do you Mime?

Trial by Fire

Forbidden Caverns

2011-08-28T08:55:00.001-04:00

As the thermometer was approaching 90 degrees, I decided to find a place to cool off. I went underground. Caverns. Specifically, a placed called Forbidden Caverns just outside Newport, Tennessee, where the temperature 600 feet beneath the surface is a cool -- 58 degrees.

It was fantastic. Lots of stalactites and stalagmites -- with colorful lights to give them an otherworldly glow; low ceilings, narrow passages, dripping water and an underground creek.

I highly recommend a trip underground to cool down or just to change your perspective of the world. There's a lot going on just beneath the surface.

Admittedly, I did think about that earthquake we had earlier this week. What if? I soon dismissed the thought and enjoyed my cool subterranean surroundings.

Here are some pictures from down there:

Nature Calls

2011-08-26T10:23:00.001-04:00

I've been hiking a lot since the first of the year, but this morning's hike was the mother lode. In my hikes, I've spotted squirrels, birds, snakes and chipmunks. Today, I spotted one bear, one fawn and a wild turkey. And no, I was not drinking Wild Turkey when I spotted the bear and deer!

There's a lot to be said about getting up and out early. Firstly, it's much cooler. With temperatures hitting the low 90's by mid-day, an early morning hike is the way to go -- particularly since the temperature is usually a mild 70 or so -- most mornings.

It was just such a morning. I was standing in an old logging road in a remote area near Hot Springs, NC, when I heard twigs snapping in the rhododendron just ahead of me -- about 30 feet. Something was bounding down the bank at a fast clip -- deer? I thought.

Suddenly, a beautiful black bear came into view -- crossing the road and heading down the hillside into more thick bushes and rhododendron. Wow. It felt like the bear had been cued to bound across the road in front of me -- as if in a movie or a planned sighting. Absolutely amazing. The bear was medium size and there was no time to snap a photo since this all happened within about 3 seconds. I waited a few moments to make sure the bear didn't have company and then proceeded along the trail.

30 minutes or so after this encounter, I heard furious wing-flapping off to my left. I look up and to my left just in time to spot a wild turkey taking flight. Further along, as I was wrapping up my hike, I thought I spotted what appeared to be a large dog about 20 yards in front of me. As it came into view, I realized it was a fawn. We stared at each other for a second or two, before it moved off the road and across the forest.

My biggest fear now is chiggers.

There were a lot of weeds and plants along the trail and those little critters love to catch a ride and then create an incredible itch that lasts three or four days.

I just jumped out of a hot shower. Hopefully, I won't spot any signs of them.

Eat a Peach

2011-08-25T11:00:00.002-04:00

I had forgotten what it was like to eat a delicious peach.

The taste came back to me the other day when I bit into a ripe yellow peach from South Carolina. The juice ran down the side of my mouth and the flavor sent my taste buds into heaven. It was a case in which the memory of a good tasting peach simply couldn't do justice to the actual taste. (It's usually the other way around!)

After the rediscovery of what a real peach tastes like, I hopped in my car and drove straight to the farmer's market where I bought one bushel of peaches -- Yellow Flesh and Freestone varieties (also called O.Henry).

O. Henry wrote at least one short story about peaches. Little Speck In Garnered Fruit is about newlyweds on their honeymoon and the bride asks her husband to find her a ripe peach, but it's early spring and he struggles to find even one. Read it here:

http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/14968/

I can relate to O. Henry's bridegroom character. I've found myself on a mission to find a specific fruit or vegetable in some of the places where I have lived over the past ten years. In Timor-Leste, it was grapes. Here in the states, I miss Central Asian cherries.

This morning, I am savoring those ripe South Carolina peaches. I am on my fourth one. They are so addicting and I think before too long, I'll be back at the farmer's market. Peach season will soon be gone :(

Up Close

2011-08-20T13:35:00.000-04:00


A snail's pace

An after-sunrise walk this morning along the dirt road near the house, revealed some beautiful wild flowers along the roadside.

Warming Up on a Cool Morning

Split Ends


Shades of Blue

Pow! Pow! Pow!

2011-08-19T17:49:00.001-04:00

The View from Here

I live on a beautiful hilltop over looking a tree-covered mountain. I love to sit outside and surf the net or, as I've been doing lately, read Tim Winton books. I just finished Dirt Music and just started Cloudstreet. He paints with words -- an example from Cloudstreet: "All day they travel. Their bones brittle up with the jolts. Limestone dust flies into the trees. Out of Capel, the smoke from a brushfire comes downwind in a spiritous column, like a train passing. Past the emaciated glitter of creeks, into the heat ahead, the bluewhite nothing of distance, they travel."

It's like poetry written in prose.

These two books, and I expect his others, too, provide a glimpse into Australian life. Cloudstreet reminds me a bit of Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath -- working class people struggling to feed their families in the years after the depression.

Winton is the second Australian writer I've read recently.

I was loaned a copy of Christos Tsiolkas' The Slap a few months ago and found it absolutely brilliant. Tsiolkas takes a domestic incident and describes it from eight different perspectives. The Slap is very much in your face -- in terms of the writing style. At times, it was shocking, particularly the language that some of the characters used, but not offensive. I think the "shock factor" was due mostly to the fact that my previous six or seven books had been works of classic literature -- Dostoyevsky, Chekhov, Stefan Zweig, Adolfo Bioy Casres and Thomas Mann.

The Slap, which I enjoyed tremendously, takes a look at contemporary life in Australia.

Anyway, so I am currently reading Cloudstreet -- sitting outside on the hillside -- overlooking these wonderful mountains and suddenly the calm is interrupted by -- POW POW POW.

My neighbor, who lives a quarter of a mile away, is target practicing with his high-powered rifle. He pops off about a dozen rounds and he's done.

Having lived away from the states for a number of years -- the sound of a gun takes some getting used to...

Submission: A New Definition

2011-08-14T20:05:00.002-04:00

Michele Bachmann, one of the eight or so GOP presidential hopefuls, has made up her own definition of the word "submissive." According to Oxford it means: "the action or fact of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person." Bachmann's definition of submission is "respect."

It's yet another example of politicians creating their own truth and in this case their own definition of a word.

It happened the other evening in Iowa when a conservative columnist asked Bachmann what she meant by her vow to be submissive to her husband. The audience booed the question, then Bachmann replied "what submission means to me -- if that's what your question is -- it means respect."

She needs to look up the definition.

Yet, what is more troubling than her answer is that the national press corps is letting her slide on it. No one, as far as I know, is calling her on it. It's really shameful. You'd think among the dozens of journalists following her campaign -- at least one would ask her the simple follow-up question: "if elected president, who will be making the decisions -- Bachmann or her husband?"

Bachmann, herself, created this whole situation -- recalling how she hated the idea of pursuing a degree in tax law and saying she did so only because her husband told her to. "The Lord says, Be submissive, wives. You are to be submissive to your husbands," she explained. That response begs the question -- who will be calling the shots at the White House if she is elected.

Bachmann is entitled to her religious beliefs, but she is not entitled to dodge a question about presidential power. She opened this discussion and the media have a duty to call her on it.

Come on colleagues -- step up and hold her accountable. For too long, politicians have been allowed to create their own truth and not be challenged by the media.

Haunting Music from Suai

2011-08-06T20:15:00.001-04:00

Nearly two years ago, I flew to the south coast of East Timor to participate in the opening of a media house for journalists. The organization that I worked for at the time, had opened several of these facilities across the country and this was the latest. At all of the openings, there was always traditional dance and music -- a truly wonderful time, each time.

The ceremony in Suai remains fresh in my mind because of the music and dance. It was quite haunting in some ways -- three men singing, one of them playing a traditional stringed instrument and six young girls dancing to the music -- appearing to be in a hypnotic trance.

I was fortunate to have my camera handy and captured a portion of the performance.

Storm Rollin' In

2011-07-31T00:04:00.001-04:00

The sound of not-to-distant thunder rumbles toward the west where the clouds are dark and threatening. Lightning lights up the twilight sky as if a million camera flashes are going off all at once. The smell of rain is in the air. A burst of wind brings the leaves on the poplar trees alive – a sound similar to the arrival of rain. The thunder rolls on – becoming distant, the night creatures turn the forest into a cacophony of percussion-sounding instruments. The rain is coming. Slowly. The rain drops gently tap the metal roof. The mountain air is cool and fresh.

(My first night back in the mountains of Western North Carolina after five weeks in tropical Timor-Leste)

Hypnotic Yogyakarta

2011-07-26T06:49:00.000-04:00

This recording was made in October 2010 inside the palace grounds in Yogyakarta. The city is one of my favorite places to be.

Dili Morning

2011-07-23T20:19:00.000-04:00

Early mornings here are an absolute delight. Up just before the sun and the air is fresh and cool. A few pics snapped just after the sun popped over the mountain behind Dili.

Spirits and Clint

2011-07-21T10:09:00.000-04:00

I've always enjoyed Clint Eastwood's movies. He's matured as a actor --- and as a director, he just keeps getting better and better.

Tonight, I watched Hereafter, and realized he is an absolute incredible storyteller. Something about the movie really struck me. It was the subject matter, in part, but also the way he weaved all the elements together. His characters were believable and likeable. Nothing seemed forced and he didn't insult your intelligence.

As for the subject matter....of course, who knows what the hereafter is like -- if there is a hereafter. It's nice to think there is "something else" out there, but I'm afraid this just might be it and we'd better make the best of what we have in the here-and-now.

Fresh Strawberries

2011-07-16T02:18:00.001-04:00

We always seem to crave the very things that we can't have -- strawberries are hard to come by here in Timor. I happened to come across this photo I snapped in '06 or '07 along a roadside in Tajikistan. The berries there are absolutely amazing -- sweet with just a hint of tartness.

Tree Farmers

2011-07-15T08:06:00.000-04:00

Augustino outside his home in Bucoli Village

Augustino Matos da Silva grows teak and mahogany trees on his land in Bucoli -- a village near Timor-Leste's second largest city, Baucau. When the trees mature, he's hoping to make as much as $5,000 dollars for each of his teak trees. He says he'd like to build a permanent house, one day.

The Old Market in Old-Town Baucau

2011-07-15T07:55:00.000-04:00

Endless Waiting

2011-07-15T07:44:00.001-04:00

I met a couple in Baucau the other day who told me a story that breaks your heart.

The man, Alberto, sat with his hands in his lap and his eyes on the table in front of him -- he spoke softly. His voice sounded tired and hopeless.

Alberto explained to me that on June 9th, his daughter went missing. "The last time I saw her, she was standing in the kitchen at the house. Since then, there has been so many sleepless nights."

It's a complicated story.

It began about two years ago when his then 16 year old daughter became pregnant. The father of the child is a married man who lives next door. He has admitted being the father, and agreed to pay $2,000 in child support, but never paid a dime.

The man's wife apparently made threats to the girl's family and according to Alberto, told him and his wife, that she was going to kill the girl. That same day, the girl disappeared. The police were called and they interviewed the woman who made the threats, but then she apparently denied making them. The police said it's her word against theirs and since there were no other witnesses, nothing can be done.

The police have launched a search for the missing girl, but Alberto says they have no leads. He and his wife are caring for their two-year old granddaughter -- praying they will get some good news soon.

Candle Nuts

2011-07-14T07:26:00.002-04:00

Ms de Sousa stands under a candle nut tree.

I met 60-year old Etalvina de Sousa up a dusty road in rural eastern Timor-Leste today. She's a farmer and one of her crops is candle nuts. If you wear cosmetics, you may be wearing some of Ms de Sousa's candle nuts. The nuts are used in, among other things, cosmetics. Locally, the meat of the candle nut is smashed and then mixed with cotton to make candles!

She's got 36 trees and carries the nuts in a sack on her back down to her house where she shells them and then sells them to a buyer. She can carry about 20 pounds of candle nuts in one trip.

Shelling the candle nut is an art form.

The shelling process is an art form -- she uses a piece of a hardened tropical leave as the tool. She inserts the candle nut into a hole at the end of the leaf and then hits it once or twice on a piece of rock. If done correctly, the whole candle nut pops out. She told me it takes her about two hours to shell one kilogram of candle nuts.

Avoid the Front Seat!

2011-07-05T09:21:00.002-04:00

The driver wanted to make sure his taxi smelled real good. There were five air freshners hanging from the ceiling.

Dili is blessed? with zillions of slow-moving taxis.

I take one each morning to work. I step outside my hotel and within 30 seconds one shows up -- turns the corner at the end of the street, spots me, toots his horn as if to 'I'm here, you need me' and stops.

I usually climb into the front seat since the driver never knows the place that I need to go and it's just easier to show him where to make the turns. One day last week as I opened the front door to sit down -- there was a huge wet spot on the seat. I quickly settled myself into the back seat.

Today, no wet spot, but another hazard that I just didn't notice til I sat down. The driver had placed a heavy metal pipe across the ceiling -- so it was almost impossible for me to sit up straight without banging my head. Then, when I tried to lean toward the window, there was a huge pink heart ornament dangling from the ceiling -- I was surprised I hadn't noticed it when I got in. It banged against my left ear the whole way to the office.

It's also nearly impossible to see out the windshield. I've noticed that more than one driver has installed little round mirrors on the passenger side windshield. All the mirrors face the driver. I'm not sure what purpose they serve other than a chance for the driver to check himself out in the mirror as he drives along at 20 miles an hour.

When we arrive at my office, most drivers smile and say --"yes, yes, yes" -- as if they knew all along where I needed to go.

Comfy, but Noisy

2011-07-03T05:37:00.000-04:00

I found what I thought would be a cozy place to read -- the second floor veranda of my hotel here in Dili. It is hidden away with a big comfy couch. There's never anyone there.

Cozy, but....

I think I know why.

I had forgotten about the noise pollution of Dili. It is absolutely horrendous -- made so by motorbikes without mufflers, big trucks with screaming engines and small cars with big stereo systems going boom, boom, boom.

I was determined to make this place a hideaway -- on several occasions today I went out -- stayed a few minutes and just couldn't bear it any longer. Even though I was trying to get "lost" in my book, I found myself getting irritable for no reason at all. As soon as I walked back inside -- I was fine.

Some of the culprits!

It is common knowledge that noise pollution causes stress -- can even lead to health problems if it remains a constant in your life. I remember my old apartment here in Dili -- it, too, was very noisy. In fact, it was so much so that if you wanted to watch TV -- I had to run the captions. Now, at least, I can escape from that cozy couch, back into the AC where the noise is masked!

The Coffee Source

2011-07-01T08:22:00.001-04:00

Coffee farmer Manuel Ximenes

I am not a coffee drinker. But...I could become one -- especially after today. First, I have never had a cup of coffee -- just a few sips -- until this afternoon around 3:30.

I arrived in the Timorese coffee town (village) of Estabo -- about three hours outside Dili. A beautiful mountain village located along a rough narrow road that zigs and zags for dozens of kilometers. There are coffee trees everywhere -- shaded by giant trees that serve as umbrellas against the tropical sun.

In Estado, farmers are beginning to prune their trees to make them have a higher yield of coffee beans. I wanted to see the results. I met farmer Manuel Ximenes, who's been growing coffee beans for 30 years, in the middle of town where he proceeded to take me over to some of his 280 trees. "See these big beans, they are the result of pruning," he sounds proudly as a huge grin appeared on his face. Before pruning, he got 1-2 kilos per tree -- now he gets anywhere from 4-6 kilos of beans from those same trees.

Newly picked beans!

Our next stop was the Coffee Cooperative of Timor -- the place that sells most of its coffee to Starbucks. I was offered a cup and almost said 'no, I don't drink,' but said 'yes, of course!'

It was excellent -- a smooth, pleasant after taste -- nothing bitter about this coffee. It was too bad we had to leave after a 15 minute chat with the coffee folks -- I would have probably had another cup!

Return to Asia

2011-06-22T20:52:00.001-04:00

I am writing this from the departure lounge at Chiangi Airport in Singapore where I am surrounded by others who are making their way to East Timor. I am returning there for a few weeks on a consulting mission.

I have written about Singapore airport before, but it remains first class. One of, if not the best airport, in the world. Lots to do and easy to get around. Shoot, it's even got a swimming pool, but I arrived too late to take advantage.

I write with a fuzzy brain and sleepy eyes after only about three hours of sleep. I can't sleep on planes, which is unfortunate when you are flying more than 23 hours. The transit hotel here in Singapore was comfortable, but I had been awake too long to even sleep -- too tired to sleep.

I am looking forward to reconnecting with friends and colleagues in Timor. It'll be my first return since my departure in December of last year -- after having lived there for two years. On this trip, I will get a chance to delve deeper into some of the programs that are designed to make life better for the Timorese people.

Sloooowwwww Internet

2011-06-16T18:25:00.000-04:00

For the past few months I have enjoyed a DSL internet connection in a small town; however, I am about to move to an internet dead zone -- or near dead zone.

I am taking up residence in a rural area outside this small town -- where there are very limited options: dial-up, ridiculously expensive satellite internet and a slightly faster than dial-up service via air modem through a local phone company.

The first thing I had to do was get a device to boost the mobile phone and data signal -- the mobile phone didn't work at all. So, for 350 bucks I bought a booster that includes an outdoor antenna mounted about 20 feet into the air. I went from no bars on my phone to four bars -- impressive! The data service; however, remains only slightly faster than dial-up -- forget watching YouTube or live streaming.

It is going to be difficult to step back to a slow internet connection; however, I do have a great view outside my window of a beautiful mountain covered with trees -- the same mountain that is blocking my high speed data signal.

Rattle Tattle

2011-05-27T21:33:00.001-04:00

These beautiful specimens were spotted at a Nature Center in Asheville -- they are mountain rattle snakes -- check out their rattles!

I've yet to see any in the wild this spring -- only black snakes, so far.

I've been away from this blog for a few days after my laptop died -- the motherboard-- so it's not worth fixing. I've ordered a new one, but for now, I'm using my old reliable HP -- purchased in '03. It's slow, but it has excellent Harman/Kardon speakers.

Looking forward to my new Toshiba -- also with H/K speakers!

E.R.

2011-05-19T21:12:00.001-04:00

I had forgotten what it was like to visit a hospital emergency room until last evening when I took my dad there. He's fine now -- just a little sleep deprived after nearly seven hours -- most of that time - waiting.

It's a great place to "people watch," although I did bring along my Kindle in order to tune out during much of the overnight. (We arrived at around 9:30pm and were checked out at around 4:30am.)

The place was packed and a nurse told me this is normal --- 'particularly just before, during and after a full moon.' It's crazy, she said, unable to explain the phenomena.

Anyway, there was 'barf man.' A guy who kept walking around the waiting room with a bag -- barfing in front of everyone. Finally, they called him up to check his weight and temperature. I'm sure he lost 2-3 pounds in the waiting room -- from barfing, alone. After the nurse pulled the thermometer out of Barf Man's mouth -- he took an extra few seconds to clean it. I joked to my dad that he would probably be called next for the weight and temperature check. Sure enough, he was. The same thermometer, now apparently sterilized, went into my dad's mouth. We both chuckled. He seemed fine with it -- alcohol sterilizes everything, I guess.

Later, an elderly lady, who'd been sitting quietly in a wheelchair stood up and started walking around the waiting room. Suddenly, she started moaning as she walked. Finally, an attendant told her that if she really did have a fractured ankle she should not be up and about. She continued to pace and moan. Heartbreaking. The nurse finally took her back to visit the doctor.

As I was sitting alone, waiting, a young woman suddenly looked at me and started speaking. Her first words were "I know this hospital well. My husband just had a massive heart attack at the age of 32. I'm here, she told me, because she had just had a hysterectomy and that green pus was now oozing from her body. I wasn't sure what to say to that so I just nodded and opened my Kindle.

Wolf Creek Falls

2011-05-15T21:03:00.000-04:00

These falls are hidden away in the mountains of eastern Tennessee in Cocke County -- about 15 miles or so beyond Max Patch in Madison County, North Carolina. It's a lot of driving on gravel roads, but the falls, themselves, are just a quarter mile off the dirt road.

The approach is from the top of the falls and then you scurry down the hillside through the mountain laurel to reach the base.

I actually prefer reaching the falls from the base. There is something magical about hiking along and suddenly hearing the water and then seeing bits and pieces of the falls through the undergrowth -- then suddenly -- there they are!

It was growing dark so we didn't stay long. This definitely requires a return trip -- on a hot day -- just to sample the pool -- and stand under those falls.

Snake Crossing

2011-05-13T17:10:00.000-04:00

I encountered this beautiful critter as I drove down Meadow Fork Road near Spring Creek, North Carolina. He stopped and posed for the shot and then, hopefully, made it all the way across the road.

Wildflowers and Plants in Eastern Tennessee

2011-05-10T19:19:00.001-04:00

After the short hike to Red Fork Falls (see previous posting), I took a drive along Forest Service Road 230 aka Unaka Mountain Road -- and spotted early spring in the higher elevations.

Trillium

Wild Strawberry

May Apple

The Appalachian Trail runs just behind this fence at a place called Beauty Spot. It certainly is!

Berries and Plant Life at Red Fork Falls

Red Fork Falls

2011-05-10T19:01:00.000-04:00

These falls are not the easiest to find.

There are no markings.

It is definitely worth the effort to seek them out. They are among the most beautiful that I have seen in the last few weeks. The falls ride down steps of stones with bright green moss along the edges. The falls are about 75 or so feet high.

The trip to the base of the falls is a bit treacherous because of the slippery rocks. Bushes and trees come in handy to ease the trip up and down.

The scramble to the bottom of the falls via a rough trail.

At the base of the falls, there's a small pool, although, I am not sure it would be safe to climb in since small stones do come over the falls; however, it was tempting to climb in because of the 81 degree heat today. Just above the pool is a large rock that is perfect to lie on. The mist and cool breeze feel absolutely terrific.

The pool at the base was very tempting!

About a quarter of the way down

Top of the Falls

Red Fork Falls are in Eastern Tennessee near Erwin and just off Unaka Mountain Road. When you see the big orange circle painted on a tree by the road, you've reached the pull out!

The Jerry Miller Trail

2011-05-09T19:43:00.000-04:00

The Jerry Miller Trail is in the Shelton Laurel Back Country area of Madison County, North Carolina and offers quite a variety -- hardwoods, lots of rhododendron, a slick rock waterfall and a beautiful little meadow that was filled with wildflowers and plants.

I spotted a variety of plants, lizards and snails along the way and snapped them with my camera.

I love this "natural" design!

Another hiker I encountered this morning.

Waterfall along the Jerry Miller Trail

This guy looks cozy surrounded by ferns and other green life.

Blackberries in the meadow along the Jerry Miller Trail.

Mother's Day 2011

2011-05-08T20:38:00.001-04:00

Some up close blossoms from the Blue Ridge Parkway near Mount Pisgah and from my dad's orchard.

Blueberries in the Orchard

Blackberries? Along the Parkway

Blueberry Blossoms

Mulberry

Currant

Peaches

White Oak Trail

2011-05-05T16:02:00.001-04:00

White Oak Trail

Another feast for the eyes and ears as I hiked a stretch of the White Oak Trail in the Shelton Laurel Backcountry Area of Madison County, North Carolina.

As I hiked up the hillside through a hardwood forest, a creek down in the valley could be heard roaring over round rocks covered with moss. The birds were out early -- providing a symphony of forest music.

The trail was in pretty good shape, even though it doesn't look like it gets much use. Trees and bushes had been cut out of the trail. The wildflowers weren't so numerous on this trail, although I did spot some interesting looking mushrooms -- not sure what they are, but they do resemble Morels.


Unidentified Mushrooms

Here are some other photos taken along the way.

Bark

Snake Skin

Moss

Hickey Fork Waterfall Trail

2011-04-27T19:30:00.002-04:00

Today's hike was on a little known trail in the mountains around Laurel in Madison County, North Carolina. It was an absolutely terrific hike -- and great weather: cloudy with a threat of rain-- a little bit of wind. The trail is mostly covered with lots and lots of wildflowers, downed trees and rhododendron. There were also a lot of tall majestic hardwoods.

The destination was a couple of waterfalls -- both were extremely difficult to photograph without climbing down a very steep bank covered with dead brush and trees. I had hoped to reach the base of the upper falls, but again, too difficult.

Cool Bridge at the Hickey Fork Waterfall Trailhead

Unidentified Please Help!

Dwarf Irises

Unidentified - Please Help!

Lower Falls

Upper Falls

Trillium

If a tree falls in the forest.....

This trail is very remote and I really felt that I had stepped back into time. The only tell-tale sign was the sound of an occasional plane high over head.

Feel free to help identify some of the wildflowers above!

Spring Creek Nature Trail

2011-04-26T17:40:00.001-04:00

I'm lucky.

In February, I decided to take some time off from work and simply live and live simply.

It has been a sometimes challenging experience. Notably, the sense of guilt of not working. Getting beyond this "guilt" led to living.

A typical day begins with a visit to the gym and then a three or four hour hike -- usually within National Forests in western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. Lately, I've blown off the gym and gone straight for the hike.

Today's hike was most memorable and reminded me of the reason that I decided to spend spring in the mountains for the first time in a decade or so.

As I walked along a beautiful river, on a trail shaded by tall evergreens, oaks and poplars and rhododendrons -- I realized just how lucky I was to be able to just be -- within the wilderness -- amongst the croaking frogs, the rush of the nearby river and the cacophony of birds.

Spring in the North Carolina Mountains

2011-04-25T19:53:00.000-04:00

Rhododendron at Bluff Mountain Campground near Hot Springs

Spring Creek at Bluff

Pond at Mill Ridge along the Appalachian Trail

Logs and Trees along the Appalachian Trail near Mill Ridge

First 24 Hours With a Kindle

2011-04-24T10:29:00.001-04:00

I admit. I'm addicted. The Kindle is absolutely great. When I first heard about these digital readers I had vowed never to give up traditional books. I am keeping that vow, but am adding the Kindle to my collection.

There are many cool things about the Kindle, but my favorite is the ability to quickly download many, many books for free. Lots and lots of classics that I've always wanted to read, but never did purchase. For instance, the Scarlet Pimperel, The Memoirs of US Grant, Scaramouche, Venus in Furs, etc.

And new discoveries -- The Gardener by Rabindranath Tagore, Bushido, the Soul of Japan by Inazo Nitobe and Pagan and Christian Creeds: Their Origin and Meaning by Edward Carpenter. This one kept me up late last evening -- burning the midnight oil....er night light....on my new Kindle.

Picasso in Richmond

2011-04-23T17:04:00.002-04:00

I enjoy following connections backward to see where an idea or even a suggestion might have started and where I might wind up.

A few days ago, a good friend suggested that I visit the Kreeger Museum. I had always planned to visit, but never took the time. Finally, yesterday, I did. It's a wonderful little museum with Monets, Cezannes, Van Goghs and a few Picasso's.

During the tour, someone happened to mention a Picasso exhibition in Richmond. Outside, I grabbed my phone and did a search. Sure enough, a major Picasso show was underway at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond. I just happened to be driving in that direction.

I highly recommend this show. It features nearly 200 paintings and drawings on loan from the Musee National Picasso in Paris -- another museum that I missed during my last visit to Paris. The museum is open late -- until 9pm on some nights and even til midnight on other nights to accommodate the crowds.

It was a bit crowded and crazed last evening, but room enough to spend time with each piece without feeling rushed.

Picasso truly evolved as a painter. It really takes an exhibition like this one to see this evolution. His early academic style of painting -- the influence of the impressionists, Cezanne and so on. He refused to settle into a comfortable style -- Picasso was innovative -- borrowing from this painter and that painter and finding his own way.

This exhibition shows the evolution by giving us a glimpse of those early years and the last years of his life.

As you walk into the first room of the exhibition -- high on the wall in quotation marks is the famous Picasso quote: 'It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.'

Flints

2011-04-13T21:03:00.000-04:00

I was walking around in a freshly plowed garden after a rain storm and found these three flints. I am not sure how old they are, but am trying to determine the appropriate period. When I was younger, I found lots of similar flints in the same area.

Holding these arrowheads in my hand I feel a special connection to the distant past -- particularly knowing that, perhaps, the last person that held this same piece of flint in their hand, may have lived hundreds if not thousands of years ago.

Nature's Ballet

2011-04-13T17:14:00.002-04:00

This is Trillium -- aka wakerobin, tri flower and birthroot. One species of this wildflower is the official emblem for Ontario, Canada. It's native to temperate parts of North America and Asia. I have found it growing near streams in western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. Interestingly, if you pick trillium, you can do serious harm to the plant. It prevents the plant from producing food for the next year. It can take years to recover.

Hitchin' a Ride

2011-04-13T16:54:00.000-04:00

These little guys were spotted in a puddle on a trail along the Laurel River between Hot Springs and Marshall, NC.

Water, Water Everywhere!

2011-04-13T16:48:00.001-04:00

Just back from an amazing little hike in Greene County, Tennessee in the Bald Mountains -- up to Margarette Falls. The trail follows the stream and is generally an easy 2.5 miles roundtrip. There are a few places where I had to scramble up some rocks and cross the stream.

As you approach the falls, the left side of the valley becomes a sheer rock cliff.

Recent rains made for a deep stream and absolutely amazing waterfalls all the way to the mother lode -- the Margarette. The water cascades some 70 feet into the gorge.

The mist and light breeze off the falls made for a very enjoyable visit.

The confluence of two mountain streams

As one approaches the falls the left side of the valley becomes a sheer cliff of stone.

Magic Bowling Ball

2011-04-06T21:56:00.000-04:00

Bowling is not something I do well. I've bowled maybe a dozen times in my life. Over the past month or so, I've been three or four times.

Yesterday, as I was throwing the ball and it went down the lane -- it suddenly veered into the gutter, hit a raised edge of the lane and leaped into the lane to my left -- bounced and hit the board above where the pins were standing.

It looked like something out of a comedy routine.

The guy next to me was something of a serious bowler -- probably a league bowler.

As I watched my ball do acrobatics before finally settling into his gutter -- I told him that I had tried to bowl a strike for him. He didn't seem to find the humor in the comment.

It was truly bizarre and the whole thing happened as if in slow motion. It caught the attention of everyone in the bowling alley.

I should have taken a bow.

Branch Lettuce

2011-04-03T11:12:00.001-04:00

One of the things that I've been anticipating since returning to the mountains is the arrival of branch lettuce. It's a wild lettuce that grows along mountain streams. This weekend, I took a hike into the mountains to pick some. I was not disappointed. The season, which is quite short, has just begun -- the leaves are between two and five inches long and are really tender.

I prefer eating them fresh in a salad with a bit of dressing. You can also drizzle hot bacon grease over the wilted leaves. I've never tried it, but it's the way a lot of mountain people prefer it.

Yesterday's trip into the mountains for the wild lettuce was part of a nearly eight mile hike that wound along beautiful mountain streams, steep hillsides and along ridges with breath-taking views. At the top of one ridge -- strong wind gusts chilled the air -- but if you stepped ten feet down the other side of the ridge -- everything was calm -- not even a hint of those wind gusts.

Hero of Our Time

2011-03-22T17:53:00.005-04:00

At my gym this morning, the TV was blaring the last half hour of Good Morning America. Impossible to ignore unless you had headphones -- unfortunately, I had forgotten mine today.

One of the hosts was introducing a pop singer, Chris Brown, and the introduction included a line that he had beat up his girlfriend and, something along the lines of, had served his time and was taking responsibility and changing his direction -- blah, blah, blah -- it was like the script had been written by one of Brown's publicists.

Anyway, the GMA host asked him about the assault on his girlfriend and he said something like -- that's the past, today is Album Day -- I want to talk about my new album. The host actually apologized to Brown for asking the question. Geez. To her credit, she actually asked him a similar question about the assault and Brown gave a similar response. She actually apologized yet again. For the rest of the segment, she threw him a few softball (easy) questions and then he performed, his fans went wild and the show ended.

Turns out that Brown was seething over those two questions. Once the cameras were off, Brown turned violent -- broke a window in his dressing room at GMA, nearly got into a fight with a GMA producer and then strangely, ripped off his shirt and walked onto a Manhattan street showing off his tattoos.

I expect this whole episode will boost his publicity -- and sell more of his new "album." This kind of behavior has certainly helped another celeb -- Charlie Sheen.

The public has an odd way of choosing heroes and role models.

Super Moon

2011-03-20T08:22:00.001-04:00

The Super Moon as viewed in Western North Carolina

The rise of the super moon last night was a bit of a bust here because of heavy cloud cover; however, an hour or so after sunset, the moon beam burst through the clouds.

Last night was special because the moon was at perigee -- its shortest distance from the Earth. The last "super" moon was 18 years ago. If you were lucky enough to see the moon rise last evening -- it was probably an awesome sight. According to astronomers, the "super" moon was about 20 percent brighter and 15 percent bigger than a regular full moon.

Did you get a good glimpse of the "super" moon? If so, please share your photos!

The Super Moon over Athens. (Photographer: Anthony Ayiomamitis)

Tasty Apples -- Where Have They Gone?

2011-03-19T14:12:00.000-04:00

What has happened to apples?

I've given up trying to find tasty apples at supermarkets. The ones on the produce counter look appetizing -- large, beautiful and perfect looking -- but take a bite and it's like eating truly tasteless pulp.

I remember the days when I could buy a basket of apples at the local supermarket and they tasted like apples. I'm not sure why our apples are so tasteless -- genetic-engineering? That goes for strawberries, too. Big and beautiful, but no taste.

It's really a shame that many young people may never know what an apple or a strawberry, for that matter, are really supposed to taste like.

This sounds conspiratorial, but it almost seems as though we are being programmed to eat this tasteless fruit -- especially if we rely only on supermarkets. I have been very fortunate to eat apples -- and strawberries -- from Central Asia - where they are loaded with flavor and very addictive!

My next stop is the farmer's market -- better yet -- my dad's apple orchard.

Customer Service

2011-03-09T21:47:00.000-05:00

After missing out on Customer Service for the past eight years, I am getting re-acquainted with Customer Service -- US style. I notice that they apologize a lot -- and more often than not -- are unable to resolve the issue -- yet -- they are "truly" sorry about it. Today, I had to call a mobile phone provider about "middle of the night" multimedia SMS's that threaten to kill me if I didn't forward the threatening email to 20 other people immediately. It was 3 a.m. I'm sure my friends would appreciate receiving this SMS as much as I did.

I provided the provider with the phone number from which the threatening SMS had been forwarded, but was told the only thing they could do was to block all SMS's. Hmmm......that's like using a machete when a scalpel is needed.

Instead, I had suggested they contact the person and ask them to stop. It seemed the logical thing to do, but the customer service representative informed me that was impossible. "We can change your number," she suggested, but I told her I prefer keeping my number. She apologized and said "is there anything else I can help you with" and I said "no, thanks" and I was told to have a wonderful day -- click.

Later, on a separate issue, I tried to reach an internet provider about whether it could provide internet to my rural area. I dialed a local number here in North Carolina, but spoke to a Customer Service Representative half way around the country -- she informed me that I should be talking to a local representative, but then said, the local office in North Carolina is not allowed to accept incoming phone calls. I gave up and hung up. Maybe I would have more luck with a Customer Service Representative in India or the Philippines.

The 12 Chairs

2011-03-05T09:10:00.001-05:00

A non-white parrot at Bali Bird Park without red shorts

I'm reading Ilf & Petrov's The Twelve Chairs -- a hilarious book about the early days of Soviet Russia. Mel Brooks even made a movie based on the book. There are many funny lines in the book -- including this one:

"...the three room apartment was occupied by an immaculately white parrot in red shorts. The parrot was riddled with fleas, but could not complain since it was unable to talk. For days on end it used to crack sunflower seeds and spit the husks through the bars of its tall, circular cage onto the carpet. It only needed a concertina and new squeaky galoshes to resemble a peasant on a spree."

I laughed so hard after reading that line because I can actually see it. There are many descriptive and funny moments in this book -- about life in the "new" Russia -- written before the Soviet censors really began to take themselves and their insane bureaucracy -- seriously.

Ancient Graffiti

2011-03-05T08:40:00.001-05:00

I wasn't sure I was seeing the actual rock art at Paint Rock, so I checked with the North Carolina Museum of History website -- just to make sure. It would be easy to mistake the pictograph for modern-day graffiti. However, this graffitti, from somewhere around 2500 B.C. has withstood the test of time.

Here is the description of the rock art -- as described on the website of the N.C. Museum of History:

"The pictograph at Paint Rock, located on a vertical rock cliff near the French Broad River, is an intricate rectilinear pattern in red and yellow. The design is similar to that found on Mississippian-period ceramics in eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina. An estimated half of the original pictograph exists today; the rest has faded or chipped off. The design and condition of the paint suggest that Paint Rock dates from the Mississippian period or later."

21st Century Rock Art at Paint Rock near Hot Springs, NC

The Long and Short of It

2011-03-04T12:10:00.001-05:00

I had thought I was pretty good at judging distances -- miles, kilometers, etc. So, when I go on a hike, I go until I figure that I've walked a couple of miles and turn around and head back. I'm always exhausted when I get back even though I consider myself in pretty decent shape -- regular trips to the gym, hiking, etc.

Yesterday, I bought a hiking book that lists just about all the trails that I've been hiking and a bunch more. Wow! I was in for a surprise and now realize why I am so tired when I get back to my Jeep. The trail that I had thought was around three miles or so -- is actually closer to eight -- another trail that I thought was six miles -- is ten.

I think I am just completely getting lost in the forest -- in terms of mileage.

Having not lived and hiked, regularly, in these awesome mountains in a very long while, I just become enchanted by the gurgling streams, the waterfalls, the creaking trees, the wind whispering through the white pines, the shrieking sound of the Blue Jay and everything else in the woods.

I'm sticking the book and map in my knapsack.

Pond at Mill Ridge near Hot Springs, NC

Appalachian Trail near Mill Ridge

French Broad River at Paint Rock

The High Rock

2011-02-28T19:03:00.000-05:00

A fairly easy hike, except for the briars and brambles, is up to the high rock. I hiked up an old logging road and then up a rounded ridge -- suddenly just before you reach the top -- the upper third of the rock comes into view. Once on top -- the rock sits down the other side of the mountain about 50 yards. It is quite a beauty. On this particular day, the winds were pretty high and I didn't stick around too long since there were some dead trees and limbs along the trail.

Now you see them....

2011-02-27T12:26:00.000-05:00

It was an awesome morning for a late winter hike. Warm weather, a bit overcast -- and slight threat of rain. As I drove toward the trailhead -- Mill Ridge, near Hot Springs, NC, it began to rain -- just enough to put the wipers on -- intermittent.

At the trail head, I snapped the above photo -- the blue ridges very prominent -- except in the far distant --where everything was faded gray. I decided to hike onto the bare hillside and suddenly there was a not-far-off rumble of thunder -- off in the distance -- I thought I could hear water going over falls. All the while, those blue ridges were getting grayer and grayer.

A few seconds later, I saw the sheet of rain in the timber a hundred yards off -- moving rapidly in my direction. I began walking quickly back to the Jeep -- just as I opened the door -- huge raindrops began to pound my back. I watched the hard rain from the vehicle -- hypnotic as it splattered on the windshield.

Adventures with Foreclosures

2011-02-20T07:48:00.000-05:00

I've been checking out foreclosures in the area and am still looking for that diamond in the rough, but the hunt has been an adventure.

First rule: the photos always look much better than the actual property. This leads to the second rule: never get your hopes up.

One place had such a low ceiling that if you were taller than six feet, you had to constantly duck -- this place also had a support column in front of the sink and counter space -- you would have to straddle the column to wash dishes or prepare food. In the basement, there was a finished apartment -- although I'm being generous with the word "finished." Behind the shower was a cubby-hole that looked like it might have been a torture chamber -- quite scary.

Still another place had two full bathrooms -- literally side by side -- a doorway connected them. Stepping into the kitchen, it was a huge mistake to open the freezer -- not sure what was in there, but I can still smell it! Nasty!

Just yesterday, as I was touring a house -- that was supposed to be empty -- a guy popped his head out of a bedroom -- looking very surprised and then slammed the door and bolted it. He refused to allow us inside. I guess he decided not to sell at the last minute.

I'm still looking -- and I have to say that half the fun is never knowing what/who you are going to find -- but I am leaving the refrigerators closed -- that's an adventure for the real estate agent.

No Name Band

2011-02-13T10:48:00.000-05:00

Stumbled on these guys during a stroll February 6th in downtown Savannah, Georgia. They were doing cover songs -- Aerosmith, Led Zep, etc -- and were actually pretty good. They put a lot of passion in their music. The guy on keyboards -- in a green knit cap and wearing gloves -- was not actually playing. He was going through the motions, but for some reason, the keyboard wasn't connected up to the sound system.

It was a cool evening, but there was a decent crowd. After watching for a while, I headed to my hotel room to watch the final thrilling quarter of the Super Bowl.

Hotel Shower Heads

2011-02-12T22:46:00.001-05:00

Shower heads are not what they used to be -- particularly in hotels. Granted, the hotels are probably trying to save on their water bills, but the last few hotels that I've stayed in -- I could hardly get the soap off my body with the amount of water that was coming from the shower heads. Ultimately, you wind up staying in the shower longer, using more water.

These are mainstream, mid-priced hotels. At least one of the hotels was a four-star.

I used to always ask to see the room in advance just to check for cleanliness and bed comfort, but I think I am going to add "check the water flow in the shower head" to my future checklist.

Florida's Gold Coast

2011-02-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

The sand is so white on stretches of Florida's panhandle that you could easily mistake it for snow. I've seen a lot of beaches, but this stretch of beach near Panama City is one of the most beautiful. Unfortunately, there is a lot of development around it.

Sunrise at Cocoa Beach, Florida - February 9, 2011

2011-02-10T22:55:00.000-05:00

Happily Lost in Space

2011-02-10T22:42:00.001-05:00

I spent part of the day this week at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida and it is a great way to get totally consumed by space. From the moment you leave the car -- you delve into the space program. First, I spotted some of the early rockets in the 'rocket garden,' next, I went to a short talk by a former shuttle astronaut, Bob Springer, and then it was over to the Space Shuttle Simulation ride. Pretty cool ride, by the way. As a bonus, Shuttle Discovery was sitting on launch pad 39B -- reminding me of the days when I covered the shuttle launches for the AP. There's nothing like watching a shuttle lift off the pad -- from about as close as you can get, safely -- about three miles. The sheer power of seeing, hearing and feeling it -- left me almost speechless the first time I experienced it.

Everything around is about space -- and, of course, that's the whole point -- but I found myself getting completely lost in space and forgetting about everything else. I felt like a kid again -- and dreaming about flying in space and traveling to places like Mars and the Moon.

The whole visitor complex is well organized and I don't mean for this to be a plug for KSC, but they've done a great job -- making the exhibits interesting and informative. For instance, I had forgotten how close Neil Armstrong came to not walking on the moon that July day in 1969 -- after technical problems almost fouled everything up.

By the end of the day, I had felt as though I'd traveled to outer space and back -- and, to a degree, thanks to the exhibits -- understood how, technically, it is accomplished.

Ten Gators

2011-02-08T23:29:00.000-05:00

I spent two years in Timor-Leste and heard lots of stories and rumors about crocodiles, but I never saw a single one the whole time I was there. The closest that I came was photographs. Er...and the zoo in Bali.

I have to say I didn't mind it so much -- my biggest fear was to find myself face to face with a Mr. Croc -- while snorkeling.

Today, I spent a few hours at Florida's Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge near Titusville and spotted ten alligators -- safely from a distance of about 10 feet. All ten critters were sunning themselves along a canal -- enjoying the warm 57 degrees Fahrenheit. Some were pretty hard to spot -- and it was a lot of fun -- creeping along the dirt road at 10 mph -- trying to spot them.

Can you spot the gator in the photo below?

At Poe's in Richmond

2011-01-20T17:48:00.000-05:00

Hidden away at the corner of 20th and Main is the Edgar Allan Poe Museum. I've visited a number of times and it's always deserted. I've found that many of museums and homes dedicated to American writers meet the same fate. Last year, when I visited William Faulkner's home in Oxford, Mississippi, I had the place to myself. Similarly, when I visit the Thomas Wolfe house in Asheville, North Carolina.

I was a bit disappointed on this latest visit to the Poe Museum because the Raven Room was nevermore....er...no more. I always enjoyed reading The Raven in the upstairs room painted red.

Walk in the Woods

2011-01-10T20:11:00.000-05:00

These last few posts have had a snow theme due to the continuing heavy snowfall here in western North Carolina's mountains.

Having spent two years in the tropics and arriving back in the states just in time for winter, I had forgotten the thrill of wandering in deep snow in the trees. I went for a short hike today in the woods I also had forgotten the deep sense of silence the blanket of snow creates. I found it so refreshing to just stand on the mountainside and listen to the silence -- with the silence decorated by the occasional bird song or a squirrel jumping from one tree branch to another.

Below is my hiking partner, Claudia.

With the temperature hovering around the 20 degree Fahrenheit mark, the timber around me was creaking and popping in the light wind. It gives a new definition to woodwinds.

Conversation is Decorated Silence

2011-01-08T19:04:00.001-05:00

I was listening to a BBC piece today on poetry and one of the guests, in a reference to the rhythm of poetry used this phrase: "conversation is decorated silence." He said it was from the Elizabethan period. I like to think of sound in this way, particularly in the context that he was using it -- he had just listened to a poem in Serbian -- a language he doesn't understand -- and then heard it translated into English. He said he felt the essence of what the poem was about upon hearing it in Serbian -- because of the rhythm and expression in the poet's voice.

To think of sounds in this manner, in some ways, makes it easier to tolerate those sounds that I might feel inappropriate in certain settings -- loud music in restaurants for instance -- at least a temporary tolerance. I would probably wind up walking out of the restaurant ultimately.

White Out!

2011-01-08T10:18:00.000-05:00

Less than three feet in front of me, through the window, a winter storm is raging. The snow, at times, is horizontal as it strikes the nine inches of snow already fallen. The wind, periodically, creates white out conditions -- the mountain that is 200 yards away -- has disappeared in the blowing snow. Visibility at times is 50 yards or less.

It's peaceful.

Since childhood I have enjoyed watching it snow. Today, I am sitting by the fire, in front of my computer, writing a report and wishing I had time to play. Maybe later today -- when the report is closer to being "a wrap!"

The photo above is my view through the window as I work -- just beyond the evergreen --- about 150 yards -- is a mountain -- invisible today.

Captions?

2011-01-07T21:03:00.000-05:00

When you look at this picture -- what does it bring to mind? Please feel free to leave a comment and your thoughts.

Used Cars and Salesmen

2011-01-07T20:39:00.000-05:00

I went shopping for a used Jeep Liberty. I'm not sure why I wanted a Liberty. I had driven them a couple of times when I rented a car while visiting the U.S. and liked the design and they got pretty decent gas mileage. So, I developed tunnel vision when I went shopping. I shopped for what I knew.

Shopping also meant dealing with used car salesmen. Most of the ones I encountered met the stereotype -- phony, slippery with the truth and ready to make a deal. One guy promised a six month warranty and the very next day seemed to have forgotten. When I pressed him, he came up with a convoluted reason why a warranty just wasn't possible. He did promise a tank full of gas instead. I passed.

I wound up buying a used Liberty from a guy at a dealership who seemed genuine. Everything he promised, he delivered -- and that included a warranty.

In the five days I have owned the vehicle, it has come in handy and I will certainly put its four wheel drive to good use tomorrow. Today, we got about half a foot of snow. Vrooooom!!!!

Snow Bound

2010-12-26T12:17:00.001-05:00

Snow can interfere with the best laid plans, so I adjusted those plans and went for a walk in the snow. I'd wanted to do a trail hike in the mountains, but with nearly 8 inches of snow and no gaiters -- I settled for a walk along the dirt road where my parents live in Madison County, North Carolina.

As I write this, it is still snowing and several more inches of snow are expected. After a year of living in the tropics, it is absolutely exhilarating to be able to walk in the snow and hear the squish, squish, squish under my feet and to experience cold weather.

Here are more pictures of our farm on a snowy, day-after Christmas.

Christmas Day - Marshall, NC

2010-12-25T21:33:00.006-05:00

Weather is tough to predict in these mountains, but the forecasters got it right this time. They predicted a white Christmas here in the western North Carolina mountains – and, as if on cue, the snow started this morning and grew heavier and heavier throughout the day. By nightfall, there were nearly three inches of snow – and as I look out the window – it’s still coming down. Here are some photos from our mountain farm.

Morning Shows in America

2010-12-24T08:25:00.000-05:00

In my eight years living outside the United States, I had forgotten what it's like on morning television in America. I mistakenly thought I might get a bit of world news. What I found were stories on: the importance of checking the expiration date on toilet paper, the benefits of diet water and Lindsay Lohan's perspective on the world.

I felt I fully understood American society after tuning in to the morning news in America.

Over on the BBC -- reporters analyzed the Senate-ratified START nuclear treaty, focused on near civil war in Ivory Coast and mail bombings in Switzerland.

I flipped back to one of the US TV networks and found a reporter getting Lohan's analysis of the benefits of drinking alcohol while watching the morning news programs.

Missing the Heat

2010-12-16T21:09:00.000-05:00

All it took was 26 degrees Fahrenheit for me to begin missing the sun and heat of tropical Timor-Leste. And the breath-taking cold also brings to mind the old adage: be careful what you wish for.....

In Timor, where it was hot and humid, I was looking forward to cold weather -- my idea of cold was...say....45 degrees Fahrenheit. A crisp cold, not a bone-chilling cold. Also -- I had completely forgotten about the wind -- and there was plenty of that with the 26 degree weather -- which pushed the temperature even lower.

I was completely prepared for the 45 degree "cold," when I arrived in Washington, DC -- I had a thin, long sleeved shirt, a t-shirt and a light jacket. It was the heaviest of winter wear in my closet in Timor-Leste.

Painfully and obviously it wasn't enough.

Still, I did get that snow I wished for -- on my second day in DC. And it actually warmed up before it started snowing -- so, in a sense, I did eventually get what I wished for.

Steak on the Stone

2010-12-07T05:42:00.000-05:00

One thing that I have missed in Timor-Leste is a good steak. Colleagues always say "ah, you want a good steak, go to so-and-so restaurant." My last mission for a decent steak in Dili ended, again, in disappointment.

Several people had recommended a place that served "steak on a stone." The waitress brings you a slab of raw beef -- sizzling on a hot stone. It seemed promising -- part of the fun was cooking the steak to order -- yourself.

I attempted to cut into the steak with a regular table knife, but that wasn't happening. So, I asked for a steak knife -- that, too, proved difficult. I assumed the knife was dull. Finally, I tore off a piece of meat and popped it in my mouth.

I have to say it was chore -- chewing it. It was one of the toughest pieces of meat I've had in a while. My friend ordered the same thing and it, too, was one tough assignment.

I brought the meat home and fed it to the cats -- who seemed to enjoy it, but they, too, struggled to chew it.

I think the restaurant should change the name on the menu -- "shoe leather on the stone" would be more fitting.

Leaving Timor

2010-12-07T00:45:00.000-05:00

Farewells are never easy, no matter how much practice I've had over the nearly eight years that I have lived outside the United States. Saying goodbye to friends and colleagues is always difficult and I always leave with the hope that I'll see many of them again.

Surprisingly, that has happened a number of times. It makes the world feel smaller. For instance, colleagues I'd worked with in Mongolia -- turned up here in Timor-Leste. Friends I knew in Tajikistan turned up in Dili. Strange, exciting world. The internet, too, makes the world seem smaller -- chatting with friends on Facebook or Skype. It's easier to follow the lives of friends, family and co-workers.

I will leave Timor-Leste in a few days and I will leave with having made a lot of friends. Friends and colleagues that I will miss. Facebook will help keep us connected -- and I'm sure I'll cross paths again with a few of them. Things like Facebook make goodbyes a little bit easier.

For me, Timor was a great challenge -- personally and professionally. The extreme heat kept me indoors a lot, and while I swam and snorkeled -- there wasn't much else to do. So, I wound up working -- a lot. It is too easy to get lost in your work here. Professionally, I had a great staff and yes, work was frustrating, but it was also quite rewarding. In many ways, unlike my work in the former Soviet republics, it is possible to get a lot of work done here without the government breathing down your neck. As I often describe it -- Timor was a breath of fresh air -- more often than not -- hot and humid air with almost no breeze.

So, off I go to the land of cold and snow. For a little while, at least, I won't miss the "forever sunshine."

Timor Long Horn

2010-12-06T02:01:00.001-05:00

There are Texas Long Horns and then there are Timor Long Horns and this is one of the latter. This guy lives in Dili on one of the back streets and when I snapped his picture, his minder decided he wanted to get in on the action.

Falling farther and farther behind?

2010-12-02T08:02:00.000-05:00

Great "what if" piece from Thomas Friedman -- actually he hits the nail on the head.http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/01/opinion/01friedman.html?partner=rss&emc=rss

Independence Day (one of three)

2010-11-28T23:14:00.000-05:00

Timorese President Horta, center with striped shirt, Prime Minister Gusmao, at right in blue shirt, greet the Indonesian band members just before they take the stage for an independence concert.

Sunday, November 28th, the Timorese people marked the date 35 years ago when Portugal gave the country its independence. It was short-lived, days later, Indonesian forces would invade and occupy the country for some 25 years.

Timor's history leaves it with essentially three independence dates -- August 30, 1999, is referendum day -- the day Timorese people voted to be independent from Indonesia. On May 20, 2002, Timor-Leste became the first new nation of the 21st century -- after Indonesian troops finally withdrew.

Timorese Prime Minister Gusmao overseeing the water cleanup just before the independence day concert.

Sunday's anniversary was marked by a big concert in front of the government palace with a top name Indonesian band as the main headliner. Earlier in the day, a cloudburst left everything soggy -- including the concert venue. Up until the start of the concert, workers were busy with sump pumps trying to get all the water out of the way --and at one point, the Prime Minister, himself, Xanana Gusmao, was overseeing the cleanup.

Deafening Rain on the Roof

2010-11-28T02:45:00.000-05:00

I remember, as a kid, standing in a huge tobacco barn and hearing the rain pound the metal roof -- the voices around me were lost to the rain striking metal. It felt cozy and scary.

I'm reminded of that day pretty regularly here in Timor -- where even as I write this -- the rain is pounding the metal roof of my house -- deafening. Add incredible thunder and lightning -- the house shaking variety -- and it's scary. Yesterday afternoon about this same time, a lightning storm passed through and struck something not more than 50 yards away.

Today, the rumbling -- lasting up to 30 or 40 seconds at some stretches -- is accompanied by strong winds and rain -- coming down sideways -- pounding and cleaning the windows.

Outside, across the street, several people are drumming -- seemingly keeping a beat with the thunder, lightning and rain on the roof.

On the second floor patio -- outside my back door, Nilla is nursing her three new kittens. They seem not to notice the sounds around them -- only the warmth of their mother's stomach and milk.

Unbiased News. Where Did It Go?

2010-11-17T03:08:00.002-05:00

A disturbing, but accurate account from Ted Koppel on the increasing difficulties of finding unbiased news.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/11/12/AR2010111202857.html?nav=hcmodule