Frosty End of Year Musings

 I hope this finds you looking forward to 2022 with hope. January starts tomorrow, a month named after Janus, the god of gates and doors. Janus had two faces in order to look forward and backwards at the same time. And as we move into the new year, we can't help but look back at last year and compare it with plans for the next. 

For me, 2021 started out with a total shut down in London and flight cancellations disrupting travel. School went back online, and I battled COVID throughout February and March. The summer hinted of normal times with family gatherings and nature walks in the great outdoors. In the fall school in Abuja continued as normal and we all appreciated the opportunity to travel for a week in October.  It wasn't until December that we started to feel the effects of the virus again.  Positive tests again disrupted travel, and we considered ourselves fortunate to make the trip to the subfreezing temperatures and warm celebrations in Minnesota. 

Plans for 2022 consist of a series of question marks. Will our travel plans go ahead as planned? How will the virus affect school this spring? Where will we be headed come June? There have been times when this indefinite future would crush me. However, I believe I am learning to live with uncertainty.  The trick is to see how events and plans stand relative to the bigger picture.

Another arctic freeze is blowing in to Minnesota. The world has turned white and frosty. With relatively mild temperatures, which means not too far below freezing, I decided to go for a walk in the winter wonderland.  The snow lacks color, but it provides contrast and emphasizes details of individual pine needles, twisting twigs, grasses and the tracks of each bird, rabbit and pet. And when the cold wind blows, each individual snowflake floats away. Ordinary objects are frosted and bedazzled. And the whiteness is all the more appealing seen through the windows of a warm kitchen.

I am not traveling on safari in South Africa, nor am I on a beach in the Seychelles. But I am with family, well fed and within reach of anything I might need.  Within days I will need to start navigating the COVID guidelines once again, and I expect to find delays and changes of plans. But I will take each setback one at a time, trying to find the silver (frosty) lining of each cloud. I can say, at last, " I am at peace."

COVID is a **** Nuisance

 

When the corona virus was first detected we hid at home and worried when the vaccine would come and let us out. With the COVID 19 vaccine, we had new worries: the anti-vaxxers and if the vaccine would protect us from the Delta variant. But most people's reaction to the Omicron variant is frustration.  

Our school went from distance learning, to a hybrid schedule allowing small groups of students on campus, to a total free for all. Not wanting to upset parents, the administration kept new cases concealed and assured everyone that a vaccine protected from exposure and masks prevented the spread of COVID.  Still, there was no real reason for inviting everyone back on campus for celebrations and sports events other than we had stopped believing in any harmful effects of the virus.

Omicron did throw a spanner in the works by affecting our travel plans for the Christmas break. Those planning a safari in Africa quickly changed their plans fearing they might get stranded when governments started banning flights in and out of certain countries. Nigeria was already on the banned country list (something that was reversed weeks later) and politics called for reverse banning of other countries into Nigeria. Most of the staff had decided to go home because, as one teacher explained, they can't prohibit a citizen from returning to their own country. Turns out, they can.

Both the US and Canada now require a negative test within 24 hours of departure on inbound flights.

This was nuisance #1: testing here in Abuja is expensive and can take anywhere up to 4 days before results are available. We have had to rebook flights and retake tests before, and it can make travel very stressful. Many of the staff were panic calling the clinic in order to get their results and make their flights.

Then the first positive test came in. We assumed it must be a mistake, there were no symptoms. But when the next 12 people tested positive, we accepted the fact that we would not be flying home. Nuisance #2: With severe symptoms like I have experienced before, I would not mind missing Christmas.  But the mild, almost nonexistent, symptoms of Omicron make our frustrated travel plans much harder to bear. 

So we sit in our apartment, bags still packed, no food in the refrigerator, and wonder how we will fill our days. I am not sick, but I'm told to stay indoors and cannot travel. I don't know what the answer is, but I do know we can't ignore COVID and hope it will go away. 

Happy Holidays? It will be a humble Christmas for me this year, not unlike that of the first one with a mother who couldn't get home and gave birth in a cattle shed.

Walking Tour of London

 

"The streets of London have their map; but our passions are uncharted. What are you going to meet if you turn this corner?” (Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room)

Part of this quote is displayed, word by word, in large letters in and around the streets near St Paul's Cathedral, inviting us to explore. I am not used to exploring London on a walking tour.  Attractions are fairly far apart, and with the changeable English weather, the underground is the easiest way to get around London.  There are several reasons you might want to tackle this walking tour:

You will see so much more of the Thames and London skyline. Look for good weather and put on good walking shoes. If you have already paid to enter the most famous sites, or want to keep outside to avoid COVID restrictions, you can see a lot for free on this tour. Personally, I was trying to avoid the £30 entrance fee!

I started at Rickmansworth station, which is on the Metropolitan line and bought an off-peak one-day travel card. That meant I had to leave after 9:30 am, but there was no limit on my return time. This gave me plenty of time to travel to Green Park underground station and walk across the Park towards Buckingham Palace before the changing of the guard. 

In June and July this is daily, but the rest of the year it occurs on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays between 10:45am and 11:45am. It is a drawn out procession led by the Horse Guard and accompanied by a marching band.  I do suggest you get to the Palace about this time, as it is the main attraction, and otherwise the Palace is not much. Covid has not changed the ceremony, but you will find more barriers to contain the tourists into smaller areas and prevent you roaming back and forth to the Victoria Memorial. 

For this tour I chose to avoid Westminster Abbey, as I didn't have the time or money to do the mandatory tour. Instead I followed the lakeside path in St James Park to view the various birds and flower beds there. 

I arrived at the other end of the Park just in time to see the changing of

the Queen's Life Guard at the Horse Guard parade. Again, barricades were in place to keep the tourists at bay, but it was still possible to walk through archway without getting bitten or kicked by a horse. 

Walking south a short way brought me to the busy corner facing the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben and the Westminster Bridge. This is a great place to grab a coffee and take in my first view of the Thames and the London Eye.  The London Eye appeared to be in operation, but the weather was perfect for a walk along the south bank of the river.  

Here I found a skatepark, galleries and several great places to eat outside. Shakespeare's Globe Theatre is also right there, next to the Millennium Bridge. 

I planned to stop and view the exhibits at the Tate Modern, which is advertised as free with a ticket. Although I had booked and downloaded a ticket online, the gallery staff were not turning anyone away at the doors.  Some of the collections were off limits to non-members, and I don't recommend the coffee shop, but I was glad I finally made the visit. The eclectic displays have something for everyone... and its free.  I was hungry, but anxious to have something more than a packaged sandwich. 

The Borough Market is just around the corner, slightly hidden between a full size replica of the Golden Hind, a cathedral and railway lines.  I found lots to eat as well as fish and vegetable markets. Cheeses and fungi piled high next to busy pubs and toffee carts.  And all the time the

trains were running right over our heads. 

A pulled pork sandwich gave me the energy I needed to keep going. I crossed the river via the Millennium pedestrian bridge where there is a great view of Tower Bridge down the river. 

The crossing took me to the side of St Paul Cathedral which is clearly visible from miles away and across on the south bank.  I was tiring and looking for a place to sit and have a cup of tea. That is when I came across the large "what" and "are" letters on the pavement.  Around the front of St Pauls I found "you". While searching for a tea shop I found "going" and "meet".  I was reluctant to go home without finding the rest of the message on the streets of London, but I was just too tired to go on. I jumped on the fast train back to Rickmansworth and missed the "turn", "this" and "corner".  

My African Garden: Part 2

 

My last African garden blog was written before our summer break, when I had relinquished the reins of the school community garden to our HOS, and settled for a few pumpkin plants in an old bed.

Well, I arrived back in Abuja and snuck out of quarantine to take a look. The community garden was lush and full. True to his word, our HOS had picked out a variety of flowering shrubs and pretty annuals. I found moss rose, impatiens, coleus and marigolds. Others that I had to look up were Angelonia (snapdragon variety), globe amaranth (edible), jungle geranium, cockscomb and mussaenda (aka red flag bush).  I am sure quite a bit of money went into the purchasing of plants that will flower continually in

this environment and attract butterflies. 

My little beds, on the other hand, were overgrown with weeds, infested with snails, and the pumpkin plants were rotting away. My desire to make something on my own, without outside help, had backfired. The garden could not go 6 weeks unattended during the rainy season. 

I quickly pulled up all the weeds, relocated the snails, and planted some more seeds.  With a bit of luck I could resurrect the garden.

I was surprised to find my patio pots had produced a small pumpkin and two tomato plants while I was away.  I have a housekeeper who faithfully waters my pots, and the seeds must have been in the compost created from our kitchen scraps. This encouraged me seed some more pots with herbs, from seeds I had brought from the US.  I have tried this once before when living in the Marshall Islands, and failed due to the salt air. Only certain hardy plants would grow in that environment.

The first setback I found with this west African climate was the amount of rain/humidity. The tomatoes developed bottom end rot due to the calcium being washed away by the heavy rains. My herbs, such as rosemary and oregano, which like drier sandy soil, also struggled to grow to any size. 

The garden snails were attacking my beans, kale and corn. On closer inspection I found various other pests: caterpillars, grasshoppers and varieties of ants. I don't know which was responsible, but I would find anything I transplanted stripped bare of leaves the

next day.

In the beautiful community garden I was dealing with quite different issues. The plants were thriving and the beds were carefully tended by a full time gardener. But the teachers were questioning the whole design, which left little room for students to plant and grow their own plants. The HOS finally agreed to clear one bed, by putting the flowers into pots around the perimeter.  I ordered pots and dirt for this purpose but soon realized that this plan wouldn't work. The pots were far too small to sustain these shrubs that could easily grow into small trees. We finally compromised by replanting the shrubs into a border

outside the picket fence. The 1st grade was then able to plant their watermelon seeds between the anthills.

I have small victories, mainly due to luck rather than gardening expertise. My sunflowers are stunted, but flowering. I planted an early prolific straightneck squash that seems to be producing despite the snails.  The corn is stunted as well, looking like a dwarf variety. I have had great success with basil and mint, and have been able to give seedlings away to neighbors and friends.  I have ginger growing from root, and cuttings of basket plant and tradescantia that are taking over my veranda. 

I found some plant food in an unlikely corner of the grocery store and have been instrumental in the start of a small compost heap in the school grounds. Getting the HOS to agree to the compost was a feat in itself, but the daily contributions of kitchen scraps, paper and clippings from the grounds soon got out of hand. The site was starting to resemble a tip with cockroaches crawling over the trash. I shut the whole operation down after going through the piles and pulling out rubber gloves and plastic forks. 

On arriving here, I saw west Africa as a gardener's paradise, with rain and heat and sunshine. So much grows naturally and the streets are lined with nurseries selling all types of shrubs and trees.  Often, the green growth threatens to take over the city.  Every available yard is planted out with corn stalks and fruit trees...

....but it isn't only the plants that are thriving. The insects are alive and well, threatening to find and eat anything I put in the earth.  The rain not only waters the plants, but strips the earth of nutrients with its gully washers. Then when the dry season comes, the sun will bake what is left.  This is definitely a gardener's challenge. 

Surprised by Joy

 

Joy was a stranger to me for many years. So much so that I could not find it in myself to read about or celebrate with others in their joy. I am not talking of happiness or any pleasurable occasion. I speak of those very intimate moments when your soul sings upon grasping a sight or action that is out of our control.  They are fleeting and a total surprise. And they sometimes go unnoticed.  

My first recognizable surge of joy came one fall afternoon in small town Minnesota. I had recently moved from the big city of Rio to a rural town of under 300 residents. I was coming to terms with being a stay-at-home mom and experiencing the fall season for the first time.  I would take my sons for a short walk to the post office, walking down the middle of a tree lined street and jumping into piles of leaves. It suddenly struck me.... how lucky I was to be able to enjoy that moment! Joy! 

Some 20 years later I experienced that same feeling of good fortune, being especially selected to experience something good. I had taken off on a solitary walk through the woods of northern Minnesota to enjoy being in nature. A rustling in the undergrowth caught my attention just as a small fawn bounded onto the path just inches from where I stood. As I was still contemplating its beauty and grace, I heard signs of something else approaching the path through the dense foliage. I turned in time to come face to face with a large timber wolf. It took my breath away! Later, when I was describing this encounter with a stranger at the camp ground, she said, "Don't you feel like some higher power just gave you a gift?!" Joy!

I must point out that my joy is not gratitude or thankfulness. I never asked for, anticipated or worked towards these moments. They are unexpected gifts which trigger a joyous surprise.

I look back now on my life (yes, I am getting to that age), and see these moments of joy like shining lights through my memories: not being able to hold back the tears while my future husband sang to me on my wedding day; kissing my beautiful newborn son just minutes after he arrived;  finding my 3 year old who had been lost in a crowd on a dark winter's night; receiving a handwritten love poem from another son; walking through my garden to find a sprout I had not planted; floating above a full size manta ray just off a coral reef;  hearing music created by my sons; sitting down to a English pub lunch with family; night swimming and sailing in phosphorescent water;  dolphins; spring in London's Kew Gardens;  watching red and green macaws fly past the car window in traffic; harvesting wild grape for jam; wandering the streets of a European old town and discovering a cathedral choir singing.

Have I used up my allotment of moments of joy? Can I expect more to come my way? Who knows when some good fortune will come my way again? Should I be content with my life so far? I've had a good life... is it greedy to want more joy? 

It is best not to dwell on it, best not to let anticipation dampen enthusiasm with disappointment. But I will let joy surprise me, and I will not let it go unnoticed.  

Too Late!

I have never missed a plane before: never got caught in traffic on the way to the airport; never forgotten tickets or passports at home; never been blind-sided by an unknown visa requirement or passport stamp. When it comes to travel I do my homework and do the necessary far in advance.

Summer travel is particularly challenging. There is much to be packed into a short time: phones, transport and accommodation, along side doctor and dental appointments. And summer in Minnesota has much to offer. There are people to visit with, flowers to smell, backyard barbecues and fireside chats. I have to remind myself to take time on the boat, in water and in the woods. I don't want to miss time with the little ones, or quiet moments in nature.  Will the highlights of the summer be my ability to schedule appointments, or finding all the shopping items on my list? Or will it be the wolf who silently stared me down in woods?

My theory has always been of taking care of business early in the summer, check off all the boxes on the list, so the final days can be relaxed and carefree. But at some point I have to get on a plane with all my luggage and fly off into the unknown. I tried to make the whole process more streamlined by booking COVID tests far ahead, checking on baggage restrictions and visa issues. When it came time to board the plane I just needed to upload my negative COVID test result onto the Nigerian travel portal and pay a fee. I planned to get it all done the day before and sleep easy one last night before boarding.

The chatty nurse who swabbed my nose for the necessary PCR test was sure the results would be available the day before we traveled, but continued to tell a cautionary tale of another traveller who had to reschedule her flights due to her not leaving enough time between the test and the flight.  Mentally I disregarded the warning with an unkind thought that it served them right for going on a safari during a pandemic.  I only started to worry about my test results coming through the night before.

I checked my email hourly throughout the night. Then got up and checked the medical website for test results. Nothing. I emailed my employer and travel agent. They told me to phone the lab. By the early light of dawn, I had called every phone number associated with the lab and testing facility, but only got automated messages: "Results are pending." For how long no one could tell me.

We decided to drive to the airport in the hope that the results would come through on our phones any minute.  The travel agent was in favor of cancelling the flight till a later date. We sat curbside at the airport and checked for results one more time before realizing that we would not make the flight.  It was out of our control. We now had to think of how we could get another flight on a date when  COVID test results could be guaranteed.  We could be prevented from boarding an international flight for not having a test result as well as having been tested too early. 48 hours was too late; 72 hours was too early. Other travelers were quick to point out that I had left it too late to test, but it seems to me like just bad luck.

We drove home again with all our luggage, stopping for a large breakfast on the way to boost our spirits. The travel agent started working on finding us new flights, and Jon started contacting differing testing venues.  I took a nap. We now have two itineraries: one earlier flight and one two days later, depending on when our new test results come through.  Oh! how international travel has changed. No longer can we sleep easy the night before, taking for granted that all it will take the next day is to show up at the airport on time with your passport. 

Philly for the Uninitiated

 

“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.”
Ben Franklin

A quick tour round Philadelphia brought my attention to that which I had forgotten about the history of this place. My HS text books and movies such as "Rocky" and "National Treasure" didn't really teach me enough to answer some questions that arose on this recent trip to the City of Brotherly Love. 

• Why does the airport Starbucks sell New Jersey mugs if Philadelphia is in PA?
• Who was the King of Prussia and how does he fit into Philadelphia history?
• Why is the Rocky statue at the bottom of the steps?
• What truth is there is the Valley Forge historic hardships?
• What river runs through Philly?
• What is the difference between a cheesesteak and a hoagie?

So this I have learned in the last three days...

Philadelphia airport lies closer to New Jersey (just across the river Delaware) than the city of Philly. And the scenic river that runs through the city is the Schuylkill , which is surprisingly a Dutch name and not a the original Delaware name.

King of Prussia is a large suburb of Philadelphia and is named after a pub. The pub owners wanted to honor the king who supported the American fight for independence and generously sent Barons to train George Washington's troops. These Prussians are not to be confused with the German Hessian troops that fought with the British in the American Revolution.

I was surprised to learn that most of the story of the hardships of Washington's army at Valley Forge are myth. The site was actually a strategically located fort which could support a large city within reach of the British forces and was easily defensible. There were some losses during the 6 month stay, but most deaths were from disease and not starvation or cold. In actual fact, the soldiers were allowed a ration of 1/2 pound of beef a day. Some soldiers were deemed unfit for duty due to lack of clothing, but were easily replaced by well-equipped units. But the romantic tale of Valley Forge is how we want to remember the suffering, yet heroic troops.



I was also surprised not to find the Rocky statue at the top of the famous museum steps featured in the movies, but in fact it hasn't been there since the 1980's. The Art Museum didn't dignify the statue as art and had it moved off site. It wasn't until 2006 that Stallone asked for the statue to be moved back to a location nearby the steps. That is where I found it, near the base of the steps where everyone likes to stop for a selfie before pretending to run up the stairs and dance at the top.

There is still much to learn. However my short time here will not allow an in depth look at Philly culture and history. There are more streets to wander and more treats to taste. I do know that the Philly Cheesesteak we ordered was authentic, and it is not a hoagie. Hoagies are cold sandwiches, and we waited for over 30 minutes for our sandwich. Unlike French fries, the cheesesteak origins can be traced back to a hot dog vendor in Philadelphia who introduced the beef into a bun. 

On a side note, a Philly resident made our tour slightly more confusing by yelling out tourist information to us as he pedaled by on his bike. He buzzed by us three times with various directions to must-see sights, but we had not idea what he was referring to.