A Full Menu!

       A full menu for blog readers this week!  

       There are new additions to the “Ten Minutes” page, sent by Ray, Char (including Char’s poem), and Jack Johnston, so be sure to check that out.  Jack sent his with a note explaining, “I had hoped to share this experience with everyone at the reunion, but since I was unable to attend at the last minute, I’ll include it here for you to post on your post-reunion blog page.”  Jack also wrote that Emily is recovering nicely.

     If you were there and haven’t e-mailed me a copy of your remarks yet, please try to get something in before it all slips away.  Also, if you weren’t there, please feel free to send in your own “ten minutes” contribution, as Jack did.  I’m not sure how to describe them, except to say that they were reflections on what the Peace Corps experience has meant to us, in more personal terms, for the most part, than we shared in the yearbook.

       You’ll also find, on the My Heart Is Like a Cabbage page, a new chapter added--Chapter 9.  This is my own response to Jerry after a quick reading of the chapter:  “Maybe it's having been a teacher for so many years myself, with the same impulse to reach students, the same ambiguity about wanting to break down barriers while discouraging familiarity, but I could actually feel my body tensing up as I read on.  I identified with the teacher, with the student, with their different ambitions, with their hope and fear and shame.  This must be the most tightly focused chapter in the novel so far.  Nice work.”

       Judy Cline sent a note that those of us who have photos, films, stories, poems, etc.,  might considering posting them to the Peace Corps site, since the Peace Corps is also gathering these items.  The link to do so is http://collection.peacecorps.gov/

     Char already sent a book recommendation to everyone via e-mail, but I’ll post it here as well:           

in the U.S. the title is Someone Knows My Name .... by Lawrence Hill

in Canada it was The Book of Negroes

Lawrence Hill's novel is told in the voice of Aminata Diallo, who is abducted

at 11 in West Africa and sent as a slave to South Carolina. years later, she makes

her way to freedom, serves the British in the Revolutionary War and registers her

name in the historic Book of Negroes, an actual document that provides a record

of freed Loyalist slaves who requested permission to resettle in Nova Scotia, and

returns to Sierra Leone as one of 1,200 former slaves who embarked on a perilous

journey back to Africa. Hill is a master of transforming neglected corners of history

into brilliant fiction, and in Aminata Diallo has created one of the strongest female

characters in recent Canadian literature.

i encourage all to read this powerful , brilliant novel ..... which is in development for

a movie.  you'll want to name your child, your pet , your anything Aminata ... after

this most powerful character.

       And thanks to Jim Murphy, who keeps me posted on items about Sierra Leone which appear in the New York Times.  The most recent were a pair of columns by Nicholas Kristof--the first, dated Oct. 9, with the headline “In This Rape Center, the Patient Was 3,” and the second, dated Oct. 13 with a Kenema byline, is headed “One Girl’s Courage.” 

On Pilgrimage

Friends,

     Our time in DC was a wonderful reunion--much better than anything, speaking for myself, I had dared hope for.  Thursday night and the two Saturday events stand out especially in my mind.  Thanks so much to Char for her steady hand throughout, to Rufus for taking care of all the logistics in advance and then turning Saturday night into a climactic celebration at his home, and to Bob Hopkins for coming up with the idea for Thursday’s dinner and then providing the funding to make it possible.

The feeling for each other, when most of us hadn’t seen each other for nearly fifty years, was startling.  The gap in time may have had the same effect on you as it did me; I was able to see that so many people have been on pilgrimage.  The loud-mouthed, crude, boisterous Char of our training days is still loud-mouthed, crude, and boisterous--as well as gentle, compassionate, and wise.  Jane has a radiant vitality and love of life, Mary Mullin D’Amico an aura of kindness, Ursula an openness that has made her stronger rather than vulnerable, Bob Gross a quieter attentiveness to others and an ability to listen and hear, Jerry Mills the courage to reveal his love and pain, Mary DeWan a steadfast, ageless commitment to justice and making a difference, Steve a spiritual home in Buddhism, Wilbur a healthy gratitude for who he is and for a life that almost slipped away....

It seems wrong to stop there when I could go on and on, but I wonder if others had that same sense that this was a group of people in which many have, over the course of an often-difficult life, struggled toward the light.  I was humbled and honored to find myself among such friends.

All the best,

Tony

Toward the light

Chapter 8

     In this last chapter of  My Heart Is Like a Cabbage prior to our reunion in DC, Jerry Mills chronicles an abysmal first Christmas abroad by his protagonist Stephen, who sees things go from bad to worse and worst.  Here are the first few paragraphs; for the rest of the chapter, click on the link under "Pages."

“Kusheh, Mr. Livingston,” a voice, nearly a whisper, said from somewhere behind me.

A hair-raising rush brought my body to high alert, and the paperback I was reading fell to the floor.   Visitors were forever materializing from nowhere at our bungalow.

Craning my neck, I saw Kadiatu leaning against the arch at the entrance to the living room.

“Kusheh, Kadiatu.”  I retrieved the book hoping to disguise my lost composure.  “Aw di bohdi?”

“Di  bohdi wehl-o . . . tehnki,” she replied shyly.  “Mr. Clifford, he say to tell you dinner is almost ready.”

Another Fortnight, Another Chapter

     In Chapter seven of My Heart Is Like a Cabbage, a lonely Stephen is preparing to spend a very "white" Christmas, feeling alienated from his fellow staff members, his Peace Corps training, and his surroundings.  Here are the opening paragraphs; to read the rest of the chapter, click on the title of the novel under "Pages" on the right side of the blog page.     - Tony

The Sierra Leone of our contemporary consciousness—infamous for diamond smuggling and the rapacious savagery of a “civil war”—this was not the Sierra Leone I believed I had come to in 1962.  For me, located where I was at the edge of the Colony mountains and within an hour’s time from world-class beaches on the Atlantic, it held all the charm and, more, the unrelenting monotony of a South Sea island.  It was the land of palm wine, hammocks, malaria, and bureaucratic ineptitude—a kind of shuffling, swaying, sensual dance toeing the tightrope of survival.  The only violence that assaulted my senses in those first few months was the appalling poverty and in-your-face presence of disfiguring and debilitating diseases—elephantiasis, yaws, ascites, kawashiokor, even leprosy—afflictions not hidden from sight in hospitals or clinics, those institutions of convalescence that keep pain and suffering hidden from American eyes.  

There was an undersized, precocious boy in my first form English class, delicate of feature, so irresistibly cute your heart melted as he hobbled from the classroom at the end of the period on a leg swollen to the size of a tree trunk by elephantiasis.  And, yet, Kei’s disarming smile is what I remember most, those perfect white teeth gleaming, an uncomprehendable felicity, a charmed mystery that defied understanding.

Exploding into Verse... and Just Exploding

In the first section below, Marvin Hanson’s reminiscences lead him to break into verse, which he asks that Char read on his behalf at the reunion.  In the second, Jerry Mills takes his young protagonist, Stephen, into ever more embarrassing and frustrating situations in Chapter 6 of My Heart Is Like a Cabbage.  (Go to “Pages” on the right of the blogpage and click on “My Heart Is Like a Cabbage” to read the full chapter.)  Somehow my sense of life as a PCV in Sierra Leone will have to combine these two wildly different takes on the Peace Corps experience.  Enjoy!    - Tony

* * * * 

I can't think of anything that will be more fun than sitting around, drinking a beer (or ten) and talking story with our colleagues and friends from our Sierra Leone days as you have planned....  I bet the nostalgia will be flowing.  I don't know if 

it is part of getting a bit older, but I find it a lot of fun to sit 

(preferably on the beach) and to exchange stories from times past.  Just this past week I had a visit from one of my closest friends from the seminary days well over 50 years ago.  It was a blast, with lots of laughs and lots of memories.  The only problem (as my Masako pointed out) was that I tended to repeat myself, I tended to repeat myself, I tended to repeat myself.  I know you are all going to have a most wonderful time, and I wish I could be there with you to share in the happy times. But Washington D.C. is a tad too far for us Hawaiians to travel.  So for the 60th reunion, let's do it here in Paradise.

I wanted to write a poem for this special occasion and ask that you share it with the folks.  Sadly, my poetic skills have definitely failed me in recent times.  The theme I wanted in my  verse is that I am happy.  And much of the happiness is due directly or indirectly or not at all to the fact that I got to be with you guys in 1962-1964 in New Paltz and in Sierra 

Leone.  (Char, please share this on my behalf when you are all together talking about your past and your present lives.)

I am happy for that experience in Sierra Leone. (Who else can say they taught 

Latin in the bush schools in West Africa?)

I am happy that I got all those graduate degrees out of the University of Michigan, which loved having returned Peace Corps Volunteers back in the 60's.

I am happy with all the diverse and varied careers I have had throughout my life (social worker, health planner, auditor, chief financial officer of a hospital, sumo wrestler, and gigolo in Waikiki).

I am happy that I met my wife, Mary, a PCV in Venezuela.  Twenty years together before she passed on from cancer in 1987.

I am happy for the two kids I have and the three grandchildren who are smarter and cuter than any of your grandchildren.

I am happy for all the world travel I have been able to experience.  When younger, it was exciting to travel to the places like Cambodia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, China but now that I am a bit older, I definitely prefer the Mediterranean cruises.

I am happy for having moved to Hawaii 24 years ago and now have retired to the beach to meditate on the "eternal variances of life."  It don't get no bettah.

I am extremely happy for now being with Masako for over 23 years.  She is definitely the ultimate life companion and is the major reason why I am happy.

I am happy that because of the Peace Corps, I got to meet some super wonderful people like Bob Rawson, Char, Kay White, Mary Mullin, Dave Frame, Tony.  Please give all these folks a great big hug (kiss) for me.

I am happy for all the memories that I have enjoyed this past year from the 

stories shared by Tony Russell, Gerry Davis, Char, and Jerry Mills.  Thanks so much.

I am happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy. (Sorry, did I 

mention I tend to repeat myself?)

- Marvin Hanson

• * * *

Chapter 6

In late November, the lab equipment arrived.  As was the case with the sea chest of my personal belongings, shipped from St. Louis even before we departed for Sierra Leone, so, too, the shipment of lab supplies and chemicals was weeks tardy in its arrival—this after the urgency pressed upon me to prepare the order.  And just as I had managed to get by with a single suitcase of belongings for nearly two months, in my role as Science Master I had to make do for all those months by drawing on my meager knowledge of chemistry and physics, and botany, the only college level science course I ever made an A in.  

Another Chapter, Another Link

     Thanks to Jim Murphy, who sent a copy of the Bureau of African Affairs' Background Note on Sierra Leone.  It's full of information, and an excellent resource.  I've posted a link to the U.S Dept. of State's website where the background note can be found; look for it under "Links" on the right hand side of the blog page.


     Also, Jerry Mills has sent along the fifth chapter of  My Heart Is Like a Cabbage, which you can also find on the right side of the blog, under "Pages."  Jerry says this is his favorite chapter; it's strong work, bringing back many memories--both good and painful.      - Tony

My Heart Is Like A Cabbage ~ Jerry Mills

     Below you'll find the beginning of the fourth chapter of Jerry Mills' ongoing serialized novel My Heart Is Like a Cabbage, based on his experience in Sierra Leone.  To read the full chapter--or the full novel--go to "Pages" on the right side of the blog page and click on the novel's title.       - Tony

 

Chapter 4

My stomach was growling the next morning—a little hunger, a little anxiety—as we raced down the highway toward Peninsula Secondary School.  Ron and I had overslept.  Samuel, already dressed in his freshly washed uniform, white shirt and gray shorts, had awakened us, his brow glistening with sweat, his face nearly radiant with anticipation. 

We skipped the ritual of breakfast; I grabbed a banana as we raced out the door.  Ron informed me Clifford was a stickler for punctuality, the lack of which, he deemed, was the reason Africans were not ready to join the council of world citizens.  I was apprehensive, a thousand scenarios of the first day flashing through my head.  My liberal arts degree was small comfort; my only classroom experience had been a stint as an assistant in a Botany lab my senior year at Mizzou.  Stage fright loomed in my fantasies of standing before a class of some thirty students.

The school was located at an intersection about a mile and a half further down the road leading to Bo.  Uniformed students walking along the highway waved at the Jeep as we passed.  They didn’t seem too concerned about the prospect of being late.....  

Night Walk

          Jerry Davis has sent another installment of his Peace Corps Journal, this time describing an incident where he, Dave Frame, and Anne Burdick were stranded on a Sierra Leonean road at night.  Below is the opening paragraph; to read the full entry, go to “Pages” on the right and click on “Jerry Davis’s Journal.  Then scroll down the page until you see the bold heading "December, 1962:  Night Walk with Dave Frame and Anne Burdick."        ~ Tony

* * * *

Night Walk with Dave Frame and Anne Burdick, December, 1962

 An American, working in Bo, borrowed a car and talked Anne Burdick, Dave Frame, and myself into going to Freetown with him for the weekend. The capital city was 165 miles from Bo.  We left Bo with high hopes and expectations.  The beaches in Freetown were beautiful and the soothing salt water reminded me of Old Orchard Beach in Maine. 

Novels, We Have Novels, We Have Lots and Lots of Novels

This week sees another installment of Jerry Mills’ serial novel My Heart Is Like a Cabbage.  I really responded to this chapter; let Jerry know what you think (ge5mil@cox.net).  Jerry has mentioned that he is having some trouble working out the kinks in e-mail service up in Nutrioso, where their cabin was singed by the mammoth Wallow fire--the largest in Arizona history, said to be 95% contained today after burning 840 square miles. So if he’s slow in getting back to you, consider the circumstances.

Three weeks ago Jack Johnston sent a note that he also wrote a novel about his Peace Corps experience!  He said, “ For what it's worth, I also wrote a novel (much shorter -- 170 pages) dealing with the same material, which was used as a Master's Thesis in Fine Arts at the University of Maryland 40 or so years ago .  I'm currently investigating having the text scanned and made available as a computer file to anyone in our crew who fancies a copy.  My problem at the moment is finding someone who can scan the text and produce an editable file instead of a PDF (and doesn't charge an arm and a leg).  I should have something in hand well before reunion time.”  So we have another novel to look forward to.  Great!

And I should mention that Hap Cawood also has published a fine novel called The Miler.  I enjoyed it immensely, partially because so much of it paralleled my own experiences growing up in a part of West Virginia very much like Hap’s terrain in Kentucky--including being a runner, dealing with friends and elders unlike myself in many ways, dating a 9th grader when I was entering my senior year of high school--and partially because of the quality of the work itself.  Although most of the novel is told from the standpoint of Jeremiah James--the bulk of it during his high school years--Hap occasionally switches the narration to Jeremiah’s younger sister, Sarah.  Both of them are perceptive and thoughtful, yet believable and likable, and the differences between what the two are aware of often creates a gentle humor.  

There are numerous surprises in Hap’s book, experiments and hidden depth that all seem to work, and belie the familiar surface of a story about growing up in the mountains.  It is at once a coming-of-age story, a sports story (with numerous races chronicled as JJ becomes a one-man track team for Harlan), a portrait of a place and a time, and something more: a sensitive exploration of an interior life in all these contexts.  Highly recommended.

Now that three of you have come out, who else is out there?!                                                     

   

                                                          - Tony

Chapter 2 and a Ballgame

As promised last week, you can now read the second chapter of Jerry Mills’ novel My Heart Is Like a Cabbage, which sees the narrator arriving in Freetown, having to rapidly adjust his expectations, meeting his future housemate, and hiking downhill from Fourah Bay in search of a night on the town and a cold beer.  Go to the novel under “Pages,” click on the title, and then scroll about three-fourths of the way down the page for “Chapter 2.”

Speaking of beer and good times, Judy Cline sent the following note with a link to “Peace Corps Night with the Washington Nationals," a Friday night ballgame while we’re in DC for the PC reunion.    “You might want to put this on our Sierra Leone II blog.  It would follow our visit on Friday to Africare.  What could be better after dancing High Life than a beer and a hotdog at a ballgame?” 

http://events.peacecorps50.org/event/ee5f1dcc990e7cd40fc3ad4014215e51

                                        

                                                    - Tony