Category: Recollections
Stories about events that happened well before the time I wrote the story. Mainly recollections of earlier travels before I started posting on Facebook.
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THE FIVE CENT BELT
At eight years old, I found myself living aboard a leaking boat in Alaska, taken suddenly from my mother by my father. In that strange and quiet world, a five-cent belt became more than just something to hold up my pants—it became a small anchor of comfort in a drifting life.
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THE WRITER’S DEN
I had a good job in 1984 at an agricultural research center called CATIE in Costa Rica. I was tasked with writing a complete textbook on agroforestry. It would have taken a year, maybe two. It was a secure job at a very reputable international center. I quit the job after about five months. I didn’t want to write a textbook. I didn’t want to work in a big organisation. I wanted to do my own thing. I wanted to write a novel. So, I found a cabin on the slopes…
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UNEMPLOYMENT AND THE LAST WINE WALK
A year ago today I became unemployed. It was a great day. A fantastic day, in fact. My dearest German friends, the Schnells and Linkes, drove many hours from Tauberbischofsheim and Illerbachen to help Padma and me mark the day … and for the more sombre task of helping us pack up our household for shipping to Australia. When our friends arrived at our home in Oberwinter they felt they made a wrong turn and ended up in Bavaria instead of Rheinland-Pfalz as I greeted them in my Oktoberfest garb, which…
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WEEK ONE AS A PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER
Forty years ago today, I set foot in Costa Rica for the first time. I arrived as an altruistic, just-out-of-college, cleanly shaven youngster who was determined to save the world from an impending environmental disaster. I figured I could do that in two years as a US Peace Corps Volunteer. Those two years evolved into five years. I tried but I didn’t save the world. But I set a path for my life and experienced some of my greatest adventures and joys. On the flight from Miami I was sandwiched in…
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CULLING … BUT NOT THESE OLD BOOTS
Culling. It’s a word being used very frequently in our household as we prepare to move to Germany. Padma returns from work: ‘What did you do today?’ Me: ‘I culled a bunch of crap from the garage’. Padma: ‘Do we have anything on for this weekend?’ Me: ‘Yes, culling.’ I don’t know when or how the word ‘culling’, which is actually a biological term, became associated with house moving, but there is no better single word to describe our lives at the moment. When it comes to clothes and culling most…
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JASMINE MEMORIES
Human beings have a remarkable ability to remember aromas. All of our senses can be connected with memories but perhaps none evoke nostalgia as much as smell. The olfactory bulb has easy access to a part of the brain known as the amygdala, which plays a role in evoking emotional memories. Yesterday I got a very, very heavy dose of nostalgia when I walked past the jasmine in our garden, which is in full bloom now that summer has arrived. It never fails … every time I get a whiff of…
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THE PAPER ROUTE
There’s been talk in our household lately of our first jobs. Joseph just secured his first job. He’ll be helping in the fight against world hunger by feeding students at a university burger shop. It’s perfect for Joe as he’s right on the university campus and allows him to save up for that coveted possession – a new guitar. It brings back memories of my first job. My goal wasn’t to buy an electric guitar. I had my sights set on a Schwinn 10-speed bicycle. A Schwinn Varsity Sport … the…
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THE TOUGHEST JOB YOU’LL EVER LOVE
It was 35 years ago today that a bunch of recent college graduates in agriculture, forestry and environmental education and I landed in Central America to begin our two-year Peace Corps Costa Rica Volunteer assignments. We all got to know each other a few months earlier in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia. The Peace Corps flew all us in for a bit of psychological testing. For a few days we had to do all kinds of role playing or small group discussion under the watchful eye of some psychologist types. The idea…
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COME TO CORN ISLAND
My Nicaraguan counterpart, Juan José, and I were real amateurs at our jobs. The Institute of Tourism sent us on a mission to go to Corn Islands to bring back some great pics and promotional material. We were really out of our league. As I recall Juan José had a degree in commerce but he was the head of marketing at Inturismo. The Sandinista Government really had to struggle to find professionals. There was a massive brain drain in the country after the revolution as many professionals had moved to Miami…
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