A poem for a sunny, cold Tuesday

I haven't read much poetry in a while. Got my hands on a montagecollection in Ecuador. (It can be tricky or really expensive to find books in English down here). Anyway here's one that made me particularly happy. I woke up thinking about it this morning.

A Display of Mackerel

They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity

barred with black bands,
which divide the scales'
radiant sections

like seams of lead
in a Tiffany window.
Iridescent, watery

prismatics: think abalone,
the wildly rainbowed
mirror of a soapbubble sphere,

think sun on gasoline.
Splendor, and splendor,
and not a one in any way

distinguished from the other
--nothing about them
of individuality. Instead

they're all exact expressions
of one soul,
each a perfect fulfillment

of heaven's template,
mackerel essence. As if,
after a lifetime arriving

at this enameling, the jeweler's
made uncountable examples,
each as intricate

in its oily fabulation
as the one before.
Suppose we could iridesce,

like these, and lose ourselves
entirely in the universe
of shimmer--would you want

to be yourself only,
unduplicatable, doomed
to be lost? They'd prefer,

plainly, to be flashing participants,
multitudinous. Even now
they seem to be bolting

forward, heedless of stasis.
They don't care they're dead
and nearly frozen,

just as, presumably,
they didn't care that they were living:
all, all for all,

the rainbowed school
and its acres of brilliant classrooms,
in which no verb is singular,

or every one is. How happy they seem,
even on ice, to be together, selfless,
which is the price of gleaming.

Here's an essay by Mark Doty on his mackerel poem:
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/doty/mackerel.htm
Though things are generally way nicer before you overexplain them to death. That goes for poetry, love, patience, inner light, what have you.

But here's a great line from the essay, something for thought to munch on... "A poem is always a made version of experience." I have to add memory to that list of made experience.

The Incredible Heather Mixup

I find myself thinking about coming home "for good" a lot lately. I am not making any decisions yet, but just trying to listen to myself and see when a decision presents itself. Trying to keep patience and perspective and all that. I figure when I make a decision, I'll know.

In the meantime, it's still cold and I've been working a ton trying to get the first issue of the season ready. When I think about it, the whole thing is pretty cool. I have learned so much about magazine production, marketing, Mac, design, everything. Every issue is better than the last. I guess it's kind of like having a big art project every month. It's fun in that respect. We're expanding, the 'team' is growing, all good stuff.

Yesterday, immediately after I talked to my jefe a bit about thinking about not staying the whole season (and not having ANY answers), I go to check my email. I have two emails from Mikey and Lydia, saying, basically WTF, Heather, how come you didn't tell us that you were coming back to Y! as a contractor. So, that was the first I heard about this contracting business. But I must say, it piqued my interest. I'm not ready to just say that I'm moving back and going to work as a contractor at Y!, but I must say the timing of this was amazing.

One of the emails was especially funny, I can't resist copying some of it here:

"i've been thinking about you lately... just missing your lovely smile and goofy unintentional sexual requests ("Just put it in my mouth" is a personal favorite). THEN i find out you're CONTRACTING for us, now????"

I can, unfortunately, imagine myself saying something to that nature, innocently of course. But I couldn't for the life of me remember in what context. When I asked, it had something to do with my good friend's obsession for girly fru fru drinks and me wanting to taste his, um, whipped cream. Come to think of it, I don't think the explanation sounds any better than my quotable out of context.

It has to get warmer than this...

Back in Puerto Natales as of yesterday afternoon. And I can't help but wonder what in tarnations I am doing here. Going from Ecuador's summer to Patagonia's winter in such a short period of time is a somewhat brutal change. My toes have been frozen now for 26 hours straight.

It's not that it's any colder than, say, Christmas in Nebraska during their coldest winter in 20 some-odd years. It's just that you never truly thaw out. People here brag that the houses in the region are deliciously warm and inviting. They are inviting, thanks to good people, but warm? I beg to differ. Indoor warmth is patchy... at best. It's warm by the stove, sure. But as soon as you stop stooping over the fire, stove, gas heater, whathaveyou, your cold and runny nose starts to ice up again. Well, at least that's what happens to me.

As part of my pay this season, I'll be staying in a little room off the Black Sheep office, which is inside a hostel. I'll share my bathroom and kitchen with the hostel, but I think it will work out OK. It's not quite ready yet, so for now I'm staying with the hostel owner and her family. This arrangement should only be another couple of days. Overall it's lovely to have a place to land, and the people I'm staying with now are wonderful and making me feel comfortable and at home. Mi casa es tu casa sort of thing, and they mean it. Looking forward to settling in and unpacking my bags in my humble abode, when I can.

Iliniza Norte & Cotopaxi

I'm still in Quito with a couple more trainings left to do for work. I took a long weekend, though, and headed out to the Andes. I did one acclimatizing hike up Iliniza Norte (5,100 m) with a couple of lovely Canadians and a Vasco. We had one rest day before venturing to climb Cotopaxi, the highest active volcano in the world (5,897 m).

I was feeling great the night before, sleeping high (well, not sleeping, but resting), around 4,800. I had proper glacier training with crampons and ice axe (and I learned that I love ice axes). We woke up at midnight to prepare ourselves, eat a little breakfast (but it's so hard to eat when you're that high up), and head out to the mountain. In a blizzard. I seem to bring the Patagonia wind with me wherever I go. It was crazy windy, with plenty of snow.

We were in two rope teams of three people each, except I was with Ramon, the Basque, and I probably should have been going slower. We were supposed to meet up around 5,200 meters to make sure we all felt OK and switch up the rope teams into slower and faster, if need be. But that didn't happen. I guess my group was so far ahead of the other group, that the decision was to keep on keeping on. But, man, the altitude really got to me. I wasn't even that cold, what with the blizzard and all. Just had many symptoms of soroche, altitude sickness. Dizziness, slowness, headache, nausea, etc.

So the guide tested my reflexes... Said to cover one eye and touch his forefinger with my thumb about an arm's-length distance away. And to do this fast. Rápido, Heather. I guess I did it really really, painfully slow, with a lot of wavering. I was so happy to have finally made it to touching our guide's finger that I grabbed onto it. Pure victory. We were moving on up the mountain. The guide and Ramon, apparently looked at each other and shook their heads (as Ramon told me later). We were on our way back down that mountain.

We'd made it up to 5,500 or more, it was 5 in the morning, we were so close! And we had to go down... I was crying. And then on the way down Ramon fell into a hidden crevasse. It all happened so fast, yet in slow motion. I stopped, sat, and dug my crampons into the snow so as not to let him fall deeper and not to slide into it myself. I have no idea how he got out, from my view it looked as if he trampolined himself out of there, springing out like a cat, and screaming, "Grieta, grieta!" Crevasse, crevasse!

Anyway, we all made it down safe. Out of about 8 groups, only 2 made it up the volcano that morning. I think the blizzard was definitely making it more difficult for everybody. Our Canadian friends were already back at the base camp refugio resting when we arrived, covered in an even layer of ice...

Only three days this time

Busride from hell...

I'm becoming a bit of a pro with the overnight bus. I take lots of them, usually sleep fairly well, maybe only needing a shower, meditation and an hour's nap when I arrive to the morning destination.

But the roads in Ecuador are pretty crap. And the buses are even worse. Yesterday and last night my trip was meant to be smooth once I arrived to Bahia de C... Took the bus popular from Canoa (a warm, mellow beach town on the Ecuadorian coast) to San Vicente. Then the ferry from San Vicente to Bahia, then a tricycle to the bus terminal where I would catch the overnight bus (clase ejecutivo) to Quito. I asked for the higher class bus, and a window seat. The ticket seller dude said yes on both accounts. (But every bus I've taken in Ecuador, I ask for a window, they lie and say I have the window, and then I don't have it. Usually it doesn't matter because nobody actually has seats reserved.) But the bus was a regular bus, not business class, no bathroom (took about 11 hrs, when it should have taken 8), and picked up people all throughout the night. I didn't have a window, which is really important on a bus that picks up people every five minutes. At first I moved seats to a window, which was great, I thought, because the aisles were full of people leaning on the poor sucker who occupied the aisle seat.

But in life things are constantly changing. You just have to be ready and willing to accept that as the only constant. Accept things as they are. And as they are, in flux. So, yeah, I had to change seats again (and deal with the dude who only hours before when I was waiting for the bus to leave, started leaning on the wall near where I sat ogling me, raising his eyebrows with a disgusting smirk only 10 inches away from my face). And my seat was right in the front next to a buffalo. I mean: this guy was huge! Plus he didn't want company, so I spent the first five minutes with half of my leg slanted against his dinosaur lap. A flat tire, mechanical difficulties, parties of people getting on and off. Windows closing, because people are actually cold, because they're coming from the warm beach weather to higher altitude. I was sweating, but everyone around me is closing their window and putting on their jackets. Finally, right before dawn, some vendedores climbed on the bus and sat right on my feet. One on one foot and the other positioned herself so that she could lean heavily on my entire sweating leg. I think this is what most people think about when they think about night buses in SA, but that's not the case; usually it's classy. Not uber comfy, but not bad, like being on a flight, except you're on wheels and can watch the scenery.

The only thing that saved me was my ipod. Music, own world. I don't know what I'll do if this one ever leaves me. This is my (blushing) third ipod. The first one being a gift from someone I like to refer to as the devil, and which was stolen on the train from Milwaukee to Chicago. But who wants to keep presents from the devil anyway. The second one I bought and was stolen en route to the states last year (either from Lima or from somehwere in Mexico).

Trip to the States...

Anyway... in way better news. I finally bought my way too expensive ticket to the States yesterday. I leave Natales on 9/24 and return on 10/10. What's more is that I talked to my dad and bro yesterday (called for my dad's bday, 60, it's shocking). And Earon said he can probably come out to visit me, in Cali! This excites me to no end! It was perfect timing for me to reach him, too, because he was packing up to leave for Wyoming today. He'll be working their a year, doing some crazy cool plumbing job. Yay! So far, I have lots of visits with my family, maybe and hopefully to include a visit from Earon, Lydia's beautiful wedding to attend with Timbo as my date, maybe some backpacking, a zany museum exhibit with Marty, and probably a trip to Y! to see the old digs and pretty working faces-oh and to make sure Mikey gets extra whipped cream with that frufru drink. :)