NHESP 2010 - Update 3

Dinner with Katie and Bill, the owners of Badger Balm in Lisl's appartment;
back:left to right: Katie, Jake, Hannah, Dylan, Armin, Gabe, Connor, Iyla, Peter
front: Hakeem, Michael, Julia, Marclea and Carina

Dear Readers,

The old Latin phrase “tempus fugit” means time flies. Keeping that in mind helps us to truly live in the moment, and embrace and consciously observe our experiences.  For all of us who are students, there is right now a sense of immediacy that surrounds us. We are trying to absorb and genuinely challenge ourselves in every way. My feeling is that we are sculpting our beings internally. In this last week, which has felt like a decade, so much luck and so many marvelous experiences have graced us it is as if we each bore a sacred talisman.

Monday morning we ate breakfast and embarked on our drive to Michael and Jesse Kohaut´s house. As we coasted upon the scenic and mountainous New Hampshire roads before making our way into Vermont, our swift, cautious, and observant driver Michael pulled over. A sudden swell of curiosity arose as the ones awake asked ¨what,¨ and the ones now awakened by the stop asked ¨are we there?¨ As if no one had spoken, Michael silently and with much fluidity jumped out of the white Kroka van and walked back about ten feet on the other side of the road. I swiftly climbed out of the van followed by Connor. A pickup truck was heading our way, but I felt the need to beat the traffic as our caring apprentice Carina yelled ¨Be careful, there´s a car.¨  I sprinted across the road to meet Michael at his find. It was two massive turkeys, dead but still warm from being struck maybe 15 minutes before. Connor, Carina, Dylan, Hannah and a few more approached. We stood a few feet back, wary of the kill, except for Connor and Michael. Connor´s initial reaction was to pick up one of the turkeys up by its scaly feet and dangle it exclaiming ¨Wow, this must be about a 20 pound turkey.¨ We decided to snag the larger and less damaged one, on which we could see only a bloodied wing, and leave the smaller turkey for someone or something else. This find changed the mood of the group from quiet to animated, and as soon as all 13 of us were crammed back in the white van, talk started on how to properly gut and prepare the turkey.

The turkey on the spit

When we arrived at the abode we were welcomed by the master craftsman himself,  Michael Kohaut and his antsy dog named ¨Turd,¨ as I recall. The dog was a Fox Terrier who reminded me of TinTin´s companion in a comic strip that I read in middle school. All of us introduced ourselves and we were ecstatic to be there. All around the property lay piles of wood, and not quite finished beautiful birch bark canoes. He showed us where we would be staying nestled a few feet in the woods, and we brought all our gear and prepared the tents. It was not long before we told him about the plump turkey. Michael (and the dog) were as excited as we were.  Michael introduced us to his humble and knowledgeable 17 year old son, Owen, who instructed Dylan, Jake, Armin, and I on how to properly gut and de-feather a turkey. Our first step was to strip the hefty bird of all its feathers and tiny parasites.  Next we gave it a quick rinse, and Owen showed Dylan how to precisely cut the bird´s abdomen to take out all the unwanted organs. We kept the muscle-ly heart, the liver, and the gizzard. Owen recommended eating the gizzard and showed all four of us how to clean it and prepare the turkey. Armin and I shoved our hands into its ribcage to clean it, and rinsed it.  Then Dylan, Owen, and I figured out how to tie the bird up and stuff it with seasoning.  Meanwhile, Gabe and Armin set out into the woods to search for two efficient Y sticks so that we could make a spit to roast it.

Rest hour

At this point we were introduced to Michael´s lovely daughter, Tashi, and his wife, Jesse. Tashi soon dove into the cooking with Julia, Marcela, Hannah, and Carina who were preparing buttery mashed potatoes. After we all consumed about three bowls of delicious mashed potatoes, we all sat around the campfire and were serenaded by Iyla´s guitar playing. It was soothing as we all took turns slowly turning the skewer. As it began to drizzle, we all got closer together under the tarp and Michael and our skilled navigator Gabe went over the route that we would be taking the next day over Black Mountain, hitting several streams and finally making our way to the West River. Several hours later the magnificent bird was ready to be served to the ones who were still awake.  This included our host Michael Kohaut and his daughter Tashi, and from our group Michael, Armin, Dylan, and myself. We tasted the juicy and spicy meat and it was simply delicious. It was too much to finish then and we decided to serve it for breakfast. It was easy to go to bed after eating that turkey.

"The tree hugger"

We woke up around 6:00 am, and after eating our hearty breakfast and hydrating ourselves by drinking plenty of water,we set off through the Kohaut´s backyard to Black Mountain. It was quite a trek but filled with Michael´s infinite knowledge and Jesse´s wonderful stories. I can´t tell how you how scenic and peaceful the woods were. After a couple of snack and rest breaks we finally made it to our destination of the frigid and immense West River. We were all ready for the main event of underwater rock climbing. Yes, I said underwater rock climbing!  All you need is a pack of daring climbers who are willing to dive into 50 degree water, scuba masks, and the teeming West River. So we equipped ourselves and slowly, inch by inch submerged ourselves in the numbing current. After climbing the rocks under the water in a narrow section upstream a couple of times, it started to feel like a pool. The water exhausted us all though, and later we all passed out around the wispy flames of our fire. After our day of hiking, turkey, underwater rock climbing, stories, and music we made our way back to the house and said our farewells to the Kohaut family who had each offered us so much of their own wisdom. Michael told us about the local ecology, Owen about turkeys and bows, Jesse about quartz and high school, and Tashi about willow to make dream catchers and hand-woven baskets. They were a beautiful and grounded family to spend the sunny day with.

Hakeem, Armin, Julia, Dylan, Iyla;
back: Connor, Peter and Gabe

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were dedicated to building and learning to use hand tools with Ken, who constructed the golden-toned wooden barn. We had an enlightening class with Michael on the principles of Permaculture. We did some knitting with Lisl, which was very difficult, or maybe that was just for me! Hopefully we can all knit a hat in time for the ascent of the 19, 340 foot behemoth, Cotopaxi.  We also had time to slaughter two roosters and make some delicious chicken soup. 

Excitement!

Preparing for the rapids

On Friday we went whitewater canoeing in the Deerfield River with Misha.  We canoed a class 4 rapid, and learned  how to swim rapids, all preparing for the harsh rivers of Ecuador. Thank you so much Misha for this fun and exciting day. Saturday and Sunday were spent with family and friends: brothers, sisters, moms, dads, grandparents, and other loved ones. Thank you all for coming. It was such a beautiful weekend having you all here and teaching you about our lifestyle.

Next time you will hear the chronicles from equatorial lands. Thursday we will fly south and meet what will be our home for the next 3 months.

 All the best, and adios!   Hakeem

Environmental tip from Armin

When preparing to take a flight, take an empty water bottle so that the flight attendants don´t have to waste 2 or 3 cups on you… every action makes a difference.

Chicken of the woods

Poem, by Dylan

The drum beats

An endless array of sounds

That range of tones

Expresses a beauty

So fine a beauty that it can change a view

So wild, so abstract

Change it into a view as plain as the fields of the middle lands

Its beats resonate through our lives

Endless boom, boom

That rearranges the very instincts inside our complex twisted minds

One hit changes all that surrounds it

Is it music or is it the drone of the earth calling to us?

I know what it is

It is a way of speaking, a way of living

A way of seeing.  It is drumming

Yet it is a way of life.

Quote of the week

“I have nothing new to teach the world. Truth and non-violence are as old as the hills”

-Gandhi