College Grad!

The last few months have been pretty hectic as I organized two senior projects, took a trip to Kyrgyzstan with my mom, developed my business, wrote a book (and other stuff), and graduated from Prescott College!

Now that it's all over, let me share the details...

I just graduated on May 10 from Prescott College with a double competence (competence is PC code word for 'major')--one titled Arts and Letters and the second titled Globalization and Religious Ethics. I posted about it a few months ago...
(I haven't actually received my degree yet, but I did get this cool medal...)

For both projects I worked with a women's craft organization in Karakol, Kyrgyzstan. My mom and I just traveled there March 28-April 10 and we really got a surprise from Janyl, the woman who runs the organization. She scheduled a fantastic trip for us. Rather than just staying in Karakol and learning about Janyl's cooperative, she and her husband drove us all over the place visiting many craft organizations an meeting some of Kyrgyzstan's master craftswomen. We had SO much fun and learned SO much, but it was a very fast paced trip. As soon as we got home, I had to dig right in to the completion of my senior projects, so I didn't even have time to post photos!
Well, they're on facebook now, so you can click this link to see them. 

The final product of one of my senior projects is a book about our adventures during the two weeks Mom and I spent in Kyrgyzstan this spring. I have a pdf of the book, so if anyone would like it, please email me. Hard copies of the book are also available for purchase HERE. Or go to Blurb.com and search the Travel books in the Bookstore for Masters of Craft, Mothers of Culture. As a bonus, all of the proceeds from online sales will go to support disadvantaged girls and women in Karakol, Kyrgyzstan. The funds will go to Asylzat Craft Cooperative which provides income and educational opportunities for women in the community.

Masters of Craft, Mothers of Culture by Sunshine Davis | Make Your Own Book

So now that I've graduated, what's next?! I am planning on staying in Arizona for a while. Jett and I started a jewelry business that specializes in fundraisers. So, if anyone needs a fundraiser--- maybe your church group, softball team, school band--- just let me know and we will help you out. We make high quality, hypoallergenic, personalized, stainless steel rings. You can see some photos on our website: www.redrockcustomjewelers.com

I will also be relaxing with my dog, watching the ducks eat snails in the yard--probably continuing with my manzanita cribbage board production--and exploring what sort of real world jobs are available to me. If you have any suggestions... I'm sure I could use them!

Thank you to everyone for all the love and support! I finally graduated college, but I couldn't have done it alone!

Sourdough Adventures

In February, I decided to reward myself for completing all the essays and paperwork required to apply to do my senior projects. My reward manifested as the creation of my first sourdough starter. A lot of friends supported and cheered my effort, but I was also told I shouldn't be dismayed if it doesn't work the first time. Apparently, sourdough can be tricky and starters can be difficult to keep alive.

Mine flourished. It lived and grew on top of the fridge. I fed it every day and encouraged it with kind words. It grew SO well that after only a week, I decided to try it out in a recipe.

Roasted garlic and rosemary focaccia. Success! Even though my starter instructions said to feed everyday for two weeks, I went ahead and stashed it away in the fridge. Sourdough doesn't just hang out in the fridge, though. It requires a weekly commitment, at least. So every week I have been pulling out the starter to feed it and using the extra to make whatever I can.

 The second week, I made an herbed sourdough pizza crust, topped with sweet potato and spinach.

 After that, a sourdough fougasse with seeds and nuts. It was delicious, but didn't turn out as pretty as I would have liked. Fougasse has a notoriously 'rustic' look, and has even been called ugly. Mine is almost there, but I think it looks a bit too puffy and the holes are not clearly holes.

Last week's carrot cake was a very pleasant surprise. I expected some hint of sourdough flavor, but there was none at all. It was moist and cakey and perfect. Definitely in my file of sourdough recipes to use again.

This week's fougasse is a little bit better, but I think I still need to work on it. Perhaps splitting the dough in half to make two loaves would allow me to get the dough thinner and more spread out on the pan to avoid the closing up of my pretty slices. Good looking or not, I can't wait to tear off a chunk and scoop up some roasted red pepper hummus! Nom nom nom!

Community Foundations in Kyrgyzstan

The journey is almost over... I am now officially in my final semester at Prescott College. But, I still have a lot of work to do before graduation.

I am currently working on capstone projects for two majors, Globalization and Religious Ethics and Arts and Letters. For both projects, I will be working with the Asylzat Craft Cooperative in Karakol, Kyrgystan. The final products of these projects will be a full project report including a 3-year business plan for the cooperative, with the goal of helping the cooperative become financially self-sustainable, and a book about Asylzat and my experience there.

A photo from my last visit to Asylzat in fall 2012

I am SO excited to go back to Kyrgyzstan for the beginning of April. And, even more exciting for me, is the opportunity I have to share the experience with my mom, who has bravely accepted the daunting task of being my research assistant.

To prepare for this trip, and to kick off some strong financial support for the cooperative, I have started a crowd funding campaign that anyone can contribute to. Check it out here: http://www.gofundme.com/79jy2w .  And share it with your friends!

Fire Season

Last month Prescott was threatened with the Doce fire. Roads were closed, neighborhoods were evacuated, and fire fighters came from all over the West to assist in the fight. The high school near my house was turned into a home base for all the visiting hot shot crews and support personnel. One morning as I walked Harvey I counted trucks representing more than 12 different fire districts from around Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, Utah, and even Montana. Trucks returning from long days and nights in the field wafted thick, warm scents of forest fire as they drove by. Seeing the tents on the baseball field, the exhausted firefighters sleeping on the pavement next to their gear and their trucks, and the full operation of the emergency services was a daily reminder for me of how far from home each one of those people traveled to willingly put themselves in harm's way and to spend excruciatingly long and difficult shifts on the front line without even the promise of a cool shower or a soft bed as a reward at the end of it. The fire never made it into Prescott, but it did burn up the Granite Mountain wilderness area, which is visible from pretty much every part of town. Luckily, no structures were lost and the only injury was a bee sting. Prescott was very, very fortunate to have such a strong support crew protecting property and lives.

The Doce fire blazing atop Granite Mountain.

Unfortunately, that was only the beginning of fire season in Arizona. As soon as the Doce fire was under control and no longer a threat to the town, fires started popping up all over. The Prescott fire crews were able to make it out of town to help out at other hotspots. Unfortunately, the outstanding success with the Doce fire was not repeated in the town of Yarnell. The Yarnell Hill fire ravaged the town and 19 members of Prescott's Granite Mountain Hot Shot crew were killed when a quick turn of the winds sent the blaze unexpectedly in their direction. The loss has made national news and people all over the country are grieving. The tragedy has of course rocked Prescott to the core. During the week of 4th of July, immediately following the tragedy, every celebration of freedom and independence was intertwined with praise and memorial for the firefighters.

I didn't know any of the hot shots who died but no matter... every fire truck, every purple ribbon on every business, every sign with a shout out to "The Heroic 19", and every incredibly friendly and polite member of the Black Mesa hot shot crew that just bought coffee from me brings tears welling up behind my eyes. I've been conflicted about how to honor the fire crews and their support teams. I do believe they deserve respect, from the nineteen who lost their lives to every firefighter that puts him or herself in harms way and all the way down to the folks behind the scenes, but on the other hand I don't know any of the guys who died. I would like to leave space for their friends and family and I feel incredibly resistant to the "tragedy tourism" that goes along with devastating events. Do I buy a T-shirt or make a prayer flag? If I do, why? Is wearing a T-shirt a sign of support or just a boast of "I was there"? What about that girl with the fresh ink on her shoulder, "...something, something about our brave 19"? If I don't make a sign for the fence and everyone else does, what does that say about me? I didn't even give the Black Mesa hot shots discounts on their coffees...

A recent meme on facebook read, "There comes a time in life when you walk away from all the drama and the people who create it. Surround yourself with people who make you laugh, forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is part of life, getting back up is living." For now, I think the best way that I can honor all those fighting to protect our homes and land is to keep on living. Firefighters are risking their lives so that my life can keep on as normal. I think we can all honor their efforts by living as best we can, by staying happy and healthy, by not putting too much dependence on our material possessions, and by taking the time to appreciate what we do have and, more importantly, the people around us who make our lives better. A warm smile and a good laugh go a lot farther than a few cents on a coffee anyway.

Duck Disappointments

When I returned from Montana, the four eggs under my duck were all rotten. I didn't crack them open to find out, but it was easy to tell from the outside. They were clearly black and soupy on the inside. The eggs under my neighbor's hen were scheduled to hatch June 2nd, but I gave them a few days to be sure. When I checked on her, those four eggs also were not looking like hatching any time this year. I took the eggs from both the chicken and the duck but both birds continue to sit, committed to empty nests.

Am I a little bit sad? Yes. On the other hand, in the midst of working four part time jobs, I'm a little bit relieved that I don't need to care for who knows how many little ducklings. The three I raised last year were a handful. Now I must decide what to do with my two ducks... They are so entertaining to me and I love having them around, but the whole purpose was to get them to reproduce and they didn't succeed this year. I do have faith that they will be better at it next year, but I'm planning on leaving town right after I graduate and right at the time the duck would be nesting...

I guess that's a decision to make later. For the time being I'll just continue to enjoy my morning watering routine with them and the frequent chase around the yard those times Jesse James makes his break for the chicken coop.

5 Months in One Blog Post

The semester is over and the beginning of summer in Arizona is absolutely beautiful! Five months of stuff is too much to really capture in one blog, so I'll make it a fairly short photo recap.

Here's what I've done so far in 2013:

January:    

I gave a duck a bath.

 

February:

My mom and my sister came to visit. I got to meet my adorable nephew Andrew for the first time and of course, I got a picture of everyone with him, except myself.

                 

 

My black duck unexpectedly died. My guess is that she choked. Unfortunately, I paid $75 dollars for that duck and was expecting great things from her. My mom and I rather unceremoniously buried her beneath a Scrub Oak in the forest. 

 
I went to Santa Monica to preview the Vidal Sassoon cosmetology school and take a picture of the Ferris Wheel on the pier, then slept in the back of a Caballero at the Cherry Park skate park in Long Beach, then went to Corona to meet my partner's parents and 14 small dogs. It was beautiful and fun and California is a crazy place.

March: 
Jett and I took Harvey to Willow Lake. We got our feet muddy, threw sticks for Harv, admired all the gorgeous aquatic birds, and spent a lot of time examining, and photographing, the finer details of the natural world, like this dried up pond scum and this drift wood:

              
 We spent a night and a day at Fossil Creek.

 I made BANANA BREAD CINNAMON ROLLS! Maybe one of the best recipes I've ever found.

 Spring finally sprung in the gravel of Jett's front yard.

April:
I got a job with Prescott College's literary journal Alligator Juniper. This year I'm on the pages as Administrative Staff, but I've already advanced to the position of Assistant Managing Editor!

Check out the Alligator Juniper blog!

Jett and I went to the Songkran Festival at Wat Promkunaram Buddhist temple in Phoenix. It was the Thai New Year. We gave rice and limes to the monks.We were invited to feast on the most delicious home-made Thai food. I didn't take any pictures.
Then we spent some time sneaking around in the bushes surrounding the outer fence of a zoo in Surprise, Arizona because we didn't want to pay $32 each to get in. Then we went to a car show at a funeral home. Then we went seeking a smoothie in Anthem. I didn't take any pictures of that either.
         
The next weekend we went back to Phoenix to watch the finals of the Desert Ice Bonspiel, the Coyote Curling Club's annual curling tournament.

My classes started wrapping up at the end of April. The final result of the Newspaper Journalism Practicum was not a newspaper, but this beautiful magazine The Raven Review. I wrote articles, took pictures, helped edit and design the entire magazine, then took responsibility for a portion of the distribution once it was printed. Great experience with tangible results!

May: 

I saw the Hoover Dam for the first time.

I went to Vegas for the first time. I stayed with a really fun little group of girls at Rumors Boutique, enjoyed the palm trees, and hung out by the pool.

The lot of us got dressed up and went out on the town to do bachelorette party things on The Strip. It was fun. Vegas is a crazy place.

Weddings usually happen after those sorts of parties and I had the pleasure of making the cake! Here is the 'topper' I made. It was more of an insert really...

My good friends Dillon and Anya got married on the rim of the Grand Canyon, so the cake design was also inspired by the Canyon. I baked each layer to resemble the main geological layers of the Canyon, then carved an actual canyon into the finished cake, complete with the muddy water of the un-dammed Colorado River and river rocks.

Jett made the trees. The trees, rocks, and tiny flowers were all made from edible fondant. The mossy, grassy looking stuff was Graham Cracker crumbs that I spray painted green with edible spray paint.

Instead of the traditional cutting-of-the-cake-by-bride-and-groom, Dillon and Anya took turns giving a Grand Canyon geology lesson as they sliced down through the layers.

 My remaining female duck started nesting.

So far she is dedicated to setting, but she's not very good at it. She often loses some of her eggs, once she lost all of them without realizing any had gone missing, and she doesn't really get the whole idea of hiding the nest in a safe, secure location. I'm hoping that her inadequate nesting methods are due to this being her first time. I gave four duck eggs to a neighbor with a broody hen. At this point I think the chicken has a better chance of hatching her four eggs than my poor duck does hatching the remaining four.

Jett and I are getting ready to finish out the month up north, rafting and camping on the Snake River, then visiting family and friends all over Montana. Hopefully some ducklings will be hatching when we return at the beginning of June!

С новым годом!

Two weeks ago I returned with a giant backpack to a ghost town, my college campus seemingly abandoned, cold and empty. The first few days back in the States were rough. Before leaving Kyrgyzstan I was given a little debrief on 'reverse culture shock'. Upon my return I pretty much went completely through the checklist of emotions and exhaustion that was predicted and is common amongst international travelers. I was tired, excited, sad and overwhelmed, feeling unable to relate to or communicate with the friends and family I live with. I missed my friends abroad and almost the entire Prescott College community had left for the holidays. Indeed I came back to an empty, lonely place. And then I got sick. A terrible hacking cough that kept me up at night and doubled me over during the day. As happy as I was to be breathing fresh air, flushing toilet paper down the hole and eating bacon, I was terribly depressed and just wanted to return to the familiarity of Bishkek.

I have since got my possessions in order, overcome the jet lag and depression, and am on the upward swing to health. As I sat in the sun on campus yesterday I witnessed fresh looking young people walking slowly taking in the sights of the empty campus with their parents, clearly eager, excited and nervous. Today I saw so many people walking the town with large overstuffed backpacks. The Prescott College veterans, with their weathered backpacks, looking tidy and confident on their walk from the shuttle station through the barrio, while the incoming freshmen looked disoriented, wide-eyed with wonder, and not nearly as stream lined. The semester starts tomorrow and the fresh buzz just serves to remind me of all the new chances I get, all the opportunities I have in my life to start anew and to continue to expand my spirit.

At the beginning of 2012 I went to Ukraine, my first experience traveling solo. During the spring and summer I explored various aspects of relationships and my own shortcomings within those. I used my time in Kyrgyzstan to learn and grow in the realm of communication. My coming home was a fresh take on grounding myself and finding my bearings in my own culture. And while it still seems that winter has not really set in here, it feels like the beginning of a new season and with that a new and different chapter of my life. I am overjoyed with the anticipation for whatever will come next and can only smile at the memories of 2012 and at what a challenge some lessons are to learn.

Happy New Year Y'all.

Bukhara, a Fairy Tale City

The narrow alleys of Bukhara seemed to be a twisting and turning maze, growing more and more difficult to navigate as the sun set and the shadows grew longer. We came around a corner and almost ran into a man coming from another direction. He sidled up next to us and said in Russian, “Good evening.” It must have been quite apparent to the man that we were foreigners, but in an attempt to look like we weren’t lost we made another turn without hesitation. The stranger turned as well. “Pleasant weather we’re having, isn’t it?” He smiled slyly and gave one good look over the young man and young woman walking next to him, bundled tightly from head to toe. Though my Russian is poor, I understood his joke and answered back, “It is excellent weather! Though just a bit cold.” The three of us laughed together for a moment and shivered deeper in our coats and scarves. The truth is it had been more than just a bit cold before the sun went down, but the fresh air was enticing and my friend had asked me to join him on a walk. Now, in the shadows of the moonlight it was downright freezing, but not really knowing where we were, we just kept walking.

    The man broke the silence and asked, “How do you like our city?” I told him that I loved it. The city was beautiful and the history fascinating. I was disappointed that my group couldn’t spend more time. The man nodded and said, “Yes, Bukhara is a gorod skazka. Enjoy your stay.” He winked at me and dipped away around a corner, lowering his head to the sudden light from the street lamps. My friend stopped and put his hand on my arm. We smiled at each other for a moment before I whispered, “Yes, Bukhara is a fairy tale city...” We had come out of the alley just next to our guest house. The friendly stranger had already disappeared down the street into one of the trading domes. As I looked after him the lights shining from within sparkled and danced with the light of the lonely moon, a welcome image of warmth to two foreigners adrift in the cold night of the desert. 

Gamburger

The man at the shawarma stand is not Kyrgyz. Nor is he Russian. I ask for a gamburger and today he doesn't say anything to me. I used to order shawarma until I discovered that gamburgers are the same thing but with some sort of extra unexplainable deliciousness. You can't order a hamburger in Bishkek. The first reason being that they don't exist except in a very small handful of ex-pat restaurants. The second reason being that the Russian and Kyrgyz languages spoken here don't really have an 'h' sound as in English. The options are the 'guh' sound or a sound represented by the letter 'x' which sounds more like the 'h' but with a clearing of the throat, and even sometimes makes a 'kuh' sound. So I walk to the corner stand and order a gamburger, "bez ketchup". The not-Kyrgyz, not-Russian man stands up and begins his performance. He is deliberate about his motions making my wait for fast food maybe two or three minutes instead of the one I know it could be. He slices the bun and smears it with smetana, a delicious thick sour cream, which at this particular shawarma stand might be cut with mayo. He lays a half slice of tomato on the bun and a slice of pickle to the right of it. Yesterday the tomato was on the right and the pickle on the left. He sharpens his knife then slowly and carefully carves thin greasy slices of meat off the rotating spit, scoops them out of the pan with the tongs and lays them atop the veggies. Next is the french fries, then the slaw. Yesterday he remembered just in time, as he was reaching for the red squeeze bottle, that I had requested no ketchup. Today he doesn't even glance at it and goes straight for another smear of smetana instead. Perhaps the second scoop of that white sauce accounts for the extra tastiness. And I suspect that it is also the source of my addiction. With all components in place he folds over the top of the bun and gives the whole thing a little squeeze between his palms, not to smash it, but just to get it all set in place. Again with slow intention in his movements, he holds the gamburger in one hand and folds a bag over it with the other then hands it to me delicately with both hands and a deep nod. I smile and hand him my money, 60 som, about a dollar twenty, and with another deep nod and a somewhat theatrical swoop of his hand, as if taking a bow, he plucks the bills from my grasp and returns my change. I smile at the man, whom I now judge to be Turkish, and offer a Russian "thank you", but what I really mean to say is "see you tomorrow". The Turk smiles and continues to say nothing, but I know that what he really means to say is, "it will be my pleasure".  

 A little late night snack from the shawarma stand.

That Time of Year...

Coming over the mountain from Talas, the rocks in the lower part of the canyon cascaded in great slides down the slopes. They were purple. A deep, dry, reddish purple. But when they were in the water of the tiny mountain stream tumbling from the heights crystal clear and cold as ice, they were the color of fresh raw liver. I picked one up from the slope, not the stream, and pocketed it, even though it is typically against my system of morality to take rocks or any sorts of nature away from their natural place. It will be a beautiful souvenir for the fish tank back home.

We were so fortunate to drive over the Tien Shan mountains at this time of year. All the herders were moving their animals down the hills for the winter, back to the villages and the low lands. They march their herds right down the highways and all the cars slow down and honk until the sheep and the cows and the horses pass. The drivers of vehicles smile and scorn as if the herds are seriously impeding the progress of traffic. The men and boys on horseback smile and scorn as if the traffic is seriously impeding the progress of herding. Clearly the roads were built for everyone here. Every once in a while a large old Soviet truck will roll slowly by, stuffed to the brim with packed up yurts and belongings and even a few extra pieces of livestock.  In the villages, the people didn't seem to mind at all the dust stirred up by the animals, though we the tourists had to cover our faces to keep from choking. 

We spent the evening and morning with an amazing elderly couple in their beautiful farm house. They held a feast for us and helped me picked three different kinds of apples from their orchard, as many as I wanted, all of them perfectly crisp and delicious. They were so honored to have us in their home, guests from half way around the world, but I could never have expressed how honored I was to be in the presence of such wisdom.

Mountains!

Part of my schedule here includes excursions out of Bishkek to various locations around Kyrgyzstan and other Central Asian countries. This past weekend 10 of us from the London School drove about 4 hours to Lake Issyk-Kul to stay in a beautiful 'lake house', build a little yurt, and experience what it's really like to be Kyrgyz in a full-on, up-the-mountain, high-altitude day hike.

 

Lake Issyk-Kyl is the second largest salt lake in the world, after the Caspian Sea, so it never freezes. Those of you who know me well should know that I'm not a big lake-swimmer. I'm just not a big water person in general. Despite my fears I went ahead and stripped down to my skivvies and went for it with a beautiful sunset highlighting the horizon. Half way around the world, I might as well, right? As expected, the water was warm and it was salty. I even plugged my nose and went under! Once. Then made for shore in haste.

 

The beautiful shore of Issyk-Kul in the morning light.

 

Our weekend residence with the lake in the background, some mountains hiding behind the clouds.

We spent all of Saturday hiking up to some gorgeous alpine lake, though none of us actually made it to the lake. It was a rigorous hike pretty much straight up the mountain, but for our guide it was just another day in the life.  And while hiding under a rock from some chilly raindrops I happened to see another guy just livin' the life, herding his sheep across the hills. The landscape was rugged and beautiful, though I thought it could have been anywhere in Montana or Idaho or Wyoming. It felt like home and my companions suggested multiple times that they thought I was made for Kyrgyzstan. But do not be fooled by the pretty little hill in this photo...It was a big hill. And behind it, obscured by those clouds, some serious snow capped peaks. I took this photo after I gave up on reaching the lake, after we'd already hiked up probably more than 6,000 feet.

The view from the top. And the little tent that was the herder's abode. We passed it on the hike up and stopped to see if anyone was home. Unfortunately, just the dog and a couple calves.

 

That may be my only mountain scaling adventure within the next four months, but it was an amazing way to get a little bit up close and personal with Kyrgyzstan and I'm looking forward to spending next weekend again on the lake!

More on the yurt later...

 

Kyrgyzstan!

    So here I am, half way around the world, in Kyrgyzstan. For those of you who don't already know, I'll be spending the next four months in Bishkek, the country's capital, working on my Russian and learning all the ins and outs of Central Asia. I arrived here two weeks ago and won't be seeing the western world until the end of December. For now I am living with a very sweet Kyrgyz woman and her 8 year old daughter, but at the end of September I will be moving into the dorms at my school. There are three other students in my class, all from the United States, and all with incredibly different backgrounds. One is a history major, one is a political science major, the other is an ex-military, agriculture (?) major interested international security, and then there's me... really into the culture and stuff. We all get along really well and, despite our different areas of expertise, we all seem to be working for a common goal, so our classroom discussions have been very lively and well rounded.
    The first part of most days we each have private language lessons. I have to say, four hours of one-on-one lessons is exhausting. By the end of my second class I am beat. Everyone else says the same. It is really a struggle to get through to lunch at 1. But it is only the second week of classes, so I'm sure we're all just still settling into the swing of this new schedule. By the end of the fourth month I think I'll be cruising through those hours with ease.
    In the afternoons we all get together for "The New Great Game" and "Understanding Central Asia". These classes are in English, discussing the history, culture, and political economics of Central Asia. On Wednesdays we have the incredible opportunity to hear lectures from guest speakers, have discussion panels with local students, and finish the day with a cooking or crafting class. Our first two guest speakers were absolutely amazing and I had the good sense to record their lectures.
    Living here has been very cheap and it seems that every day I have some new wild story from my trips on the public transportation, but more on that later. The city is safe enough, with relatively little violent crime. There is a large Russian population here so being a white person doesn't necessarily make me stand out as a foreigner, which is comforting to me.
     More later!

NOM NOM NOM! BREAD PUDDING!

I made a delicious bread pudding yesterday with some dumpstered stale hot dog buns. Yes, they came from the trash. Welcome to my wonderful world! The world of broke-ass college students who aren't afraid to be bottom feeders!

I had some for breakfast yesterday and then one of the dogs ate the rest. I was so heart broken that I got up early this morning to trek to the grocery store for raisins so I could recreate the deliciousness.

Here it is. You don't have to use trash hot dog buns. Use some good bread. But really, Bread Pudding was MADE for using up stale bread.

Bread Pudding

1/2 cup coffee
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla
3 eggs
some cinnamon
some cardamon
2 or so tablespoons flax seeds
1/2 to 1 cup cooked oatmeal  (or 1/2 cup instant oats + another 1/2 cup milk)
1/2 cup raisins
1 banana (fresh or frozen) chopped up small or mashed
4 to 6 hot dog buns (big buns, use 4. small buns, use 6) or bready equivalent
2 tablespoons butter (Or more! Butter makes it better!)

Set oven to 350.
Whisk together coffee, cream, milk, sugar, vanilla, eggs, and spices. Whisk in banana if it is mashed. Tear up buns and toss into mixture. Add oatmeal, flax seeds, raisins, and banana. Stir all together and let it soak for a couple minutes while you prepare the pan. Melt the butter in a 9x9 baking dish and roll it around to cover the sides and stuff. Put the soggy bread stuffs into the buttered dish and bake for 50 minutes.

RUM SAUCE!!!!

3 table spoons butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 table spoon corn starch
1 cup milk
2 or 3 tablespoons Rum

Melt butter in small saucepan. Combine sugar and cornstarch. Once butter is melted, stir in the sugar and cornstarch. Stir in the milk slowly, a couple table spoons at a time to avoid lumps. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until it starts to thicken. Reduce heat a little bit and continue to cook until the sauce is pretty thick.  Remove from heat and stir in your rum.

OOOOH!  Serve the bread pudding warm or eat it cold, but either way, SMOTHER it with rum sauce and Enjoy!

Home

The month in Ukraine went so fast.  By the time my departure date came around I was thinking, "Wait!  I still have so much to do, so much to learn!"  I cried when Vale tucked me away into the taxi and the drive to the airport seemed much less scary and foreign than when I had arrived.  I really met some amazing people on my journey and I hope that our paths will cross again in the future.

Now I'm home.  At first Prescott seemed so warm!  No hats, no boots, no ankle length fur jackets.  And the best thing ever is the sun!  There is never a constant gray cloud cover here.  Also, it was so good to see my brother Joe for the short time he was here.  He flew into Phoenix a 1/2 hour before I did.  What a great homecoming!  We spent a wonderful afternoon at Fossil Creek, definitely our favorite place to play.  The water was a bit colder than it typically is on those warm Arizona summer nights, but we all jumped in anyway.

I've only been home 2 weeks, but already Ukraine seems so far away and so long ago.  I guess that's how things go when there is some normal life to attend to.  Shaun and I have started classes again and the first week seemed to go pretty smooth.  I definitely need to take a look at my organization skills and really try to stay on top of my homework since this semester two of my classes are Upper Division and Writing Intensive! Go me, college junior!  The work will be difficult, but I'm always excited to learn and to be a part of such a fantastic learning community as is found at Prescott College.

Hopefully I'll find time to practice and learn more Russian, but if not, there's always time to travel again next summer... I can't wait to see where the adventure will happen next!

люди

девушка-  You are tall.  You are beautiful.  ALL of you!  For the most part, you have long, straight hair...black, brunette or blonde, red doesn't seem to exist here.  You are thin, or at least in really great shape.  Very few of you are overweight.  You wear fur.  And amazing shoes.  Only the most stylish heels and knee high boots.  Even in this ridiculously icy city.  Unfortunately, you will not age well.  Perhaps it's because of the extreme winter temperatures... or the fatty, meaty food that you eat.


мальчик-  You are average height.  You are not beautiful.  You look like the stereotypical Russian bad guys in movies.  You wear black.  You are clean shaved.  So many of you have scars.  You don't seem to be in great shape like the women.  But even if you are lacking in good looks, you make up for it with your classic chivalry. You hold doors, you help women with their jackets.  You buy flowers, give up your seat on the metro, and always carry your lady-friend's bag.  At first I took many second looks at dangerous-looking men with designer purses... but a beautiful woman is always somewhere close. 




As cold as the people seem on the outside... never smiling and always in a hurry... they are so nice as soon as you start getting to know them.  If you take a moment to say hello and ask how they are doing, most of them will immediately be friendly.  Except the waitresses at our favorite restaurant, of course.  They're still pretty cold, even though we eat there every day. One thing that is surprising to me about this large city, is that I've found everyone to look the same.  I went shopping with my host's niece, and I lost track of her in a very small store.  How do you lose a tall, beautiful woman in a small store?  You fill it with tall beautiful women.  It doesn't help that they all dress the same.  But they all dress well.  All of the people here are very well dressed, men and women.  It's amazing.  I thought I brought my nicer clothing with me, but I look homeless.  It's true.

The Metro

My primary means of getting around Kiev is the Metro.  I prefer walking, but with the snow, slush, and the recently extreme temperatures, the cleaner, faster, warmer option is the metro.  The metro stations here are a vast, spacious, expansive, beautiful network of underground structures with escalators like none I've ever seen!  I feel like the majority of my time in the metro system is spent on an escalator.  The stations are so clean, and so efficient.  I am constantly shocked at how many people I see every day in the stations and on the trains.  But, it is an amazingly cheap and fast way to travel around the town.

  The following are some observations I've made while using Kiev's amazing transportation.  Please keep in mind that public transport of any sort is really a novelty for me.

It is important to remember not to talk to anyone on the metro, unless you're going to scold them for something, like losing balance when the train starts.  Don't smile.  If you smile, you're weird.  To get the most out of the metro, you should try to walk faster than everyone else and squeeze onto the train, push if you have to, even when there is clearly no more room.  If you are a man walking with a woman, you should hug her and kiss her every moment that you are stopped... If you are waiting for a train, on the train, on the escalator... It's not ok to smile at people you don't know, but public displays of affection are ok.  Don't ask me.

The escalators... Oh my, the escalators.  The first day, when my host took me along the metro route I needed to get to school, I got serious vertigo on the escalator.  I held onto the hand rail, but as usual, the hand rail moved faster than the steps.  I've never been in such a long angled tunnel before... The tunnel is designed specifically for the escalator.  After the first, there was a second, taking commuters the rest of the way to the surface.  Somehow, I found a location in town where you can switch from one station to another somewhere beneath the earth at the bottom of a hill and exit the station on the surface at the top of the hill. Unbelievably the two escalators there were double the length of the two in my station!  How is it possible?!
Also, unlike you're typical department store escalators, the metro stairs move fast.  Not too fast, but definitely fast enough that if you're not paying attention when you step on, you will find yourself wanting to fall backwards.  I've found that I must be ready to launch myself into a rather brisk stride when my step hits the top. If not, I will get pushed out of the way by those behind me who are ready to walk fast. The best advice I can give for metro escalator adventuring is Go with Confidence. Just look that escalator right in the eyes (eyes?) and tackle it with all you've got.  Also, don't wear heels.  I don't care if you are in Kiev... better to be unfashionable than break an ankle.

Another hurdle I've encountered is figuring out where the heck I am when I get off the metro.  Almost all of the stations are underground, so you must first find the stairs leading down to the station, usually located at street corners or in plazas.  Once underground, there are large networks of tunnels containing vendors, food courts, and even some rather large shopping malls.  A person must navigate through the flowers, pizza, souvenirs, and lingerie to find the doors of the metro station.  If you take a wrong turn, you'll end up at another set of stairs which will lead to the surface on the street corner opposite of where you entered (if you're lucky!)   It usually happens that I exit the metro and walk to the wrong end of the station, ending up a few blocks from my desired destination.  When I do make it to the correct end, I usually choose the wrong stairs and end up on the wrong side of the road.  I go through this process of playing prairie-dog almost every time I try to go somewhere... Popping my head up somewhere, looking around to get my bearings, then popping back down to the underground to try a different hole somewhere else.

On the plus side, I can now read the metro signs and I understand where the trains go.  That means that anytime I'm lost in town (which is often), all I have to do is find a metro station to get to some place familiar.

Next topic of discussion...  The people.

This Is School?

Yeah, I guess I need to update the blog more often.  My two beautiful ducks were killed by a raccoon, just a couple days after I made the last post.  But I bought them with the hopes that they would protect my chickens and they did.  The cinder block has since been replaced with a more secure locking, hinged door and we've had no more deaths.  I plan to get more ducks in the spring.

We're well into winter now and the holidays passed without incident.  The break between semesters seemed pretty short, but the time our friends and house-mates were away seemed to last forever.  I guess that's how those things go.  I can't believe I'm already in the second semester of my second year of college!  Turns out I'm a pretty good student when the situation is right.

At the moment, that situation is a small classroom in Kiev, Ukraine, with all my lessons held in Russian.  Looking back, I'm not really sure how I got here.  Of course I drove to the airport, got on a plane and flew, but how the heck did I end up in Ukraine, of all places?  I never in my life imagined wanting to travel here.  And here I am.  The truth of it is, I am going to school to learn.  There is no other reason.  I want to learn Russian?  I'd better do it right and go some place that speaks Russian.

Still... I'm baffled that I am actually here and am actually getting school credit for this.

So, what is Ukraine like?
In January, it is cold (9c/15f today).  It is icy.  It is grey.  The people are also cold.  If you want to fit in, don't smile in public. Don't smile at people you don't know.  And you should always try to get in front of them.  People seem to always be in a hurry here (maybe because it's so cold?), and will walk faster to pass you on the sidewalk, or try to squeeze in front of you to get what they want at the grocery store... Even if you're the only two people in the store!  It's a bit strange and it makes trying to speak the language in every day situations rather difficult.

On the flip side, my host is fabulous!  She is so sweet and I feel like I'm at my grandma's house.  Valentina is always concerned that my shoes won't be warm enough or that I haven't had enough to eat...  The food she cooks is wonderful, but it is hearty.  I have had to ask my instructor how to tell Vale that I would like to not eat so much.  I wrote it down, but I haven't tried to tell her yet.  She is so nice and so genuine that I don't want to be rude.  My current plan is to walk home from school everyday, instead of taking the metro, to burn off all the extra calories.
The apartment I live in is located in 'Old Kiev', now called Podil, on the banks of the Dnieper River.  It is a wonderful neighborhood, close to the metro station, and without too much traffic.  It is a great place to walk in the evenings and there's even an ice-skating rink set up in the square.

I have two more weeks of lessons before returning to the states, so hopefully my speaking skills will improve by then and I'll be able to hold an actual conversation with my original mentor at Prescott College.

Days Without (a Duck)

Meet Vladimir and Inga

These two ducks are the most recent addition to the Casa de Chaos flock.  They are Muscovy ducks, known to be quiet, clean, friendly, funny, and grounded.  As it turns out, Inga (on the right) can fly.


Here are the events of the past week:


Friday 9/16-  I bring home the ducks around noon.  They hang out in the chicken coop, swim around their tiny pond, nuzzle each other with their beaks, and make cute, quiet chirping sounds.


Saturday- I let all the birds out into the garden first thing in the morning.  The dogs don't pay any attention to the ducks at all.  The ducks do the same thing they did the day before along with waddling between the corn and squash looking for bugs.
Around 6, we leave for dinner, assuming all birds will make their way back to the coop before the sun sets as is standard.
9:00 pm we return from dinner to find only 1 duck in the coop.  The word is that sometime that evening a neighbor stopped by to see if we were missing a duck.  He had seen it walking down the road on the other side of the block.  The roommates couldn't find it.


Sunday- I get up early to start the search for the duck. A neighbor with ducks on the other side of the block says someone brought it to her house the night before.  They found it trying to cross a major road 6 blocks from our house.  By the time we got there, the duck, free-ranging with the other birds, had already disappeared.  


Monday- No word about the duck all day. By this time I'm sure she's been eaten by something.  Finally around 3, I think to call the Humane Society.  Good news!  Someone called about a duck in their yard earlier that day.  Bad news!  The Humane Society can't take in birds, so the caller was directed to the natural history park.  The park hadn't got any calls.  Being that the duck was sure to still be alive, I made posters.


Tuesday- I left bright and early Tuesday morning for a field trip and left the posters to be hung with the roommates.  Roommates did not hang any posters, but as luck would have it, Tuesday night they encountered a 'Found Duck' poster just a couple blocks from the house.


Wednesday- The roommates find the duck at a women's rehab center 3 blocks away.  Trying to catch her, she demonstrates her impressive flying skills and evades capture.  I get home from my field trip late in the afternoon and we go back to the center to find duck on the roof, beyond our reach.


Thursday-  We go to the rehab center at 7:30 to capture duck and she is nowhere to be found.  We search the entire block with no luck.  At 8:45, a classmate walking to school spots the duck three houses down from ours on their front fence.  We get a crew together and hurry over to attempt another capture.  The duck escapes and flies to the peak of a very high roof, very narrowly missing a high jump capture attempt.  Having class at 9, I have no choice but to leave her.  At 9:15, the rehab center calls the house saying she has returned.
At 11:30 another posse is called to arms and we all head to the center thinking a night time capture will be easier, only to find the duck again at the peak of a very high roof.  Being a roof very well lit, close to the street, and above many sleeping rehab patients, scaling the building was not an option.


Friday (today)-  As morning gets underway and I prepare for another duck hunt, a neighbor stops by to announce that the duck is back at the house just down the street.  We get together some sheets, in hopes of throwing them over the duck to keep her from flying.  We find the duck in the driveway, almost cornered, and seemingly very calm.  We get as close as we can then attempt to throw the sheet.  She escapes again, but luckily only flies over the fence to where a group of fellow Prescott College students is painting a mural on the house. I make another attempt with the sheet and as she slips out the side, one of the painting students tackles her with another sheet.


FINALLY! The duck is in my grasp!  We immediately proceed home, to the shop, to cut the ends off of her flight feathers.


So, one week later, Inga the adventuring duck is finally back in the coop and I got to see a very cute duck dance when Vladimir saw her. 


And they (hopefully) lived happily ever after.  The end.  

Spring!

I am happy to say it is spring, but I'm not really sure what the means here...  We've had this great weather pretty much since January, punctuated by brief snowstorms.  I guess the difference in March and April's spring weather is the abundance of greenery, flowers, and lizards!  Our small front 'lawn' area erupted in a sea of microscopic purple flowers.





All the fruit trees around our house are in bloom.








And lizards have started to appear, hopefully to eat the ants...

Work on the house is still progressing, although at a slower pace since we are all busy with school.
Shaun finally quit his job at El Gato Azul (yet another un-fulfilling restaurant job), and I finally got a job, which I'm happy to say is like a childhood fantasy come true for me.  I work at a little custom cake bakery called Sugared N Iced.  The walls are painted pink and covered with glitter. Although I could do without all the glitz and glam (like the crystal chandelier above our front counter)... I'm just not a girly-girl...  I get to bake cookies, add sprinkles to cupcakes, and eat frosting to my heart's content!  On top of all that, there's still occasionally time for me to do my homework, and if not, I get off work before 9 anyway.  It's really a fabulous job, made even better by my awesome boss.  She's the nicest person ever and when she's not baking wedding cakes and adding edible sparkle glitter to pink champagne cupcakes, she races motorcycles. Like knee-on-the-ground fast track racing. Yeah!  The only downside to this job is that it is located in food court in the mall (though it is a locally owned non-franchise establishment) so I get to watch real live Americans eat fast food all day long.

On the school side of things, things are going well.  We're all busy and struggling, constantly piled with homework...projects, reports and papers due around every corner, but we are learning.  I am in a class called Human Rights Seminar, where we have tons of discussions about things like 'cultural lens', 'Marxist dialectics', and 'human rights discourse'.  Half the time I feel way over my head reading so much political theorist philosophy, but I'm definitely understanding enough and working out enough concepts to leave the class inspired and enraged.  The really great thing is that I get to take all those human rights and cultural lens concepts straight in to my Kenya History and Culture class to examine the colonial and post-colonial atmosphere of Kenyan history and present day corruption.

And to prove that this school is working for me so far, I've been able to apply numerous concepts from last semester's classes.  Writing Workshop (which Shaun is taking this semester) prepared me for the constant research paper writing, but also gave me a good basis for critical thinking strategies and context evaluation.  Spiritual Landscapes of the Indigenous Southwest has served as a great background for applying my newly acquired human rights frameworks as well as being a parallel example to oppression in Kenya.

My other class is an independent study in Russian language.  As it turns out, the dean of the Resident Degree Program's wife, who is a math teacher at the school, lived in Russia for quite a few childhood and teenage years, so she speaks Russian fluently.  She is mentoring me and I am making progress quite well.  Although I'm getting into the grammar aspect of the language, which is fairly complicated compared to English, I feel confident that I could hold a simple conversation and that I will be adequately prepared to spend a month doing an independent study in Russia next fall.  It's such a fun language! Я говорю на русском плохо!

Needless to say, I think we're all ready for school to end soon so we can get on with other parts of life... like being outdoors instead of in front of the computer.  We would all like to spend more time in the garden, continuing our yard work, and watching my little chickens grow.  Also, my dad is making another visit, starting next Monday, and this time for a whole month!  He will definitely whip us into shape around here, so there will be tons of great new project pictures to post.

Check out photos from the last couple months HERE!