A Walk in the Woods and HEI-YAA (Part Two)

My dear dad was able to come and visit with me for a week a little while ago. He is a doctor at a Mercy Hospital in Maine, and when I mentioned to Sister Sheila, a Mercy Sister and CEO of St. Joseph Mercy Hospital (see her CEO's Corner for monthly hospital news) her eyes began to gleam.

Dad's plane arrived at 7:00 in the morning on a Sunday. He had been flying since midnight. Eileen and I waited to see him coming from the gates. And waited. And waited. Just when I was about to cry and ask one of the airport taxi shirtjack squadron to go in and take a look for him, he came around the corner - with no suitcases. Now, my dad travels light, but that light was not possible. Turns out he had been collecting donations of items for anesthesia and other hospital needs, and customs didn't really know what to make of it all. Two suitcases full of medicines, medical equipment, a letter from his sending organization saying that everything is for donation .... well, we made it home without any other problems. He spent Monday and Tuesday at the hospital and got to scrub in on several surgeries and teach some new anesthesia techniques to the nurse anesthetist on staff. Everyone was very grateful that he chose to spend some time volunteering his skill and knowledge.

Then we took a little trip upriver. I took him back to the Monastery in Bartica where Eileen and I made our advent retreat last year. We went by bus, boat, taxi and foot, and it was sunny enough to take many dips in the Mazaruni River, this time. At one point, wanting to give back to the brothers for their hospitality, we found ourselves out on the access road to the Monastery in the sun, just after lunch, cutting drainage ditches along the sides of the road to help prevent further erosion when the rains come. That was hot and fun - it always feels good to help out. But oh, man, Brother Mattais gave us raspberries that night at dinner about how we looked to the neighbors when they saw a white man - a DOCTOR, no less! - doing manual labor with a pickaxe by the side of the road, and his daughter beside him, clearing the rubble with a shovel (women do not generally do any kind of heavy labor or lifting - which is considered man's work - unless they are farmers). But by the end of our time there, one of the neighbor women, who had been watching me work, decided to come and try her hand at clearing the drainage ditches too. What a great group effort that turned into!

The next day we spent the morning on a walk in the woods. This woods was not quite like the AT, as you saw from the giant palm dwarfing my father (above). Unfortunately, the image feature on this website is giving me trouble, so I'll have to post more pictures a little later. On a walk in the woods in Guyana, you see lizards about 6-8 inches long with rainbow coloring; there are toucans whistling in the trees above you; monkeys shake the branches as they follow you curiously; snakes stare at you from their sunbathing sites on logs and stumps along the trail (no poisonous ones, and not one anaconda to be seen, unfortunately); your ears are straining for the slightest hint of a leopard stirring in its sleep in a tree above you since Brother Pascal informed us that one "ate" one of his dogs shortly after the new year; and there are flowers and vines and trees like you have never even imagined much less seen. I examined the insides of one felled tree and was surprised when I didn't see rings of growth, but layers of bark interlocking like rose petals where the giant palm had grown new branches. The things that remind you how far from home you are.

Probably the most fascinating part of the walk were the emperor butterflies that accompanied us from time to time. I had seen these flitting about in Ecuador, and was amazed and delighted to be able to show dad it's beauty. Its wings are about the size of a ten year-old's hands, put thumb to thumb. They are dead-leaf-brown on the outside and brilliant, irridescent blue with black edgings on the inside. They will take your breath away, and they are fast flyers. I couldn't manage a picture of one, but it's not an image I will ever forget.

Then it was back to town, goodbye to dad at 5:00 in the morning on Saturday and on to the karate exam. Our club did very well, and many karateka (karate students) skipped belts. The four of us at my level were among them. We skipped the green belt and went straight to purple (5th level) from orange (3rd level). You may rember that I also skipped the yellow belt (2nd level) at my last exam, so this preparation and skill speaks very highly of our teachers.

There was also a tournament on Sunday. There were two categories of competition within each age and gender group: kata (rehearsed choreographed sequence of basic techniques), and kumite (free fighting, only we're not at the "free" level yet, so we go with a slightly choreographed fight sequence called three step sparring). I bombed my kata competition, not remembering exactly which one was which quickly enough, but I was fortunate enough to take first place among our group of 6 competing women in kumite. I had my picture taken with the president's wife (an honorary blackbelt) as I accepted my award. Many of our students did very well in the competitions, and it was a really neat, adrenaline-filled experience.

The bad news? The bad news is that I think I need to take a break from karate for a bit, as it is a huge time committment, and there are some other things that need my attention and time. I think karate will definitely be a part of my life in the future, though the study is more appealing to me than the competition. I do miss my team sports, though. Karate ain't got nothin' on a good game of ultimate!