January dirt

A snowy, dirty January inspired Lynn to create an ironic dirty fire hydrant card. The sort of postcard that would make you glad you are not with the person.

However, when she sat down to make it she didn't like how the first one turned out so she drew a second. Deciding both were equally imperfect, she sent me both. A bargain 2 for 1 deal that meant I received 2 postcards that I like and more dirt than I would have otherwise, since there was more room to write.

Not a bad end to a gloomy start.

Crazy Horse invented an atom bomb

We have to believe in the power of imagination
because it's all we have, and ours is stronger 
than theirs
-Lawrence Thorton.

Just before a recent work trip, a package arrived from a dear RPCV friend. It was filled with coffee, gum, dental floss and books (he knows me well). Sherman Alexie's The Lone Range and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven caught my eye, and I threw it in my bag as I was headed to the airport.

Reading about life on a US reservation while in Africa has led me to (again) think about what might have been.. Development theories are designed to explain why places like North America and Africa have developed the way they have but they do not satisfy my curiosity about the counterfactual. What if the slave trade had not extracted West Africa's strongest youth? What if the US had not had an influx of cheap labor? In the context of life on a reservation, Alexie's stories illustrate structural oppression, a disconnect between cultures, an epidemic of dis-empowerment and defeat - all themes of colonialism that run through the developing world even though they manifest themselves differently. What I like, and cannot help but share, is that while Alexie contemplates what might have been he turns this act of imagination into a powerful dream of what could be.

Imagine Crazy Horse invented the atom bomb in 1876 and detonated it over Washington, D.C. Would the urban Indians still be sprawled around a one-room apartment in the cable television reservation?.... Imagine Columbus landed in 1492 and some tribe or another drowned him the Ocean. Would Lester FallsApart be shoplifting in the 7-11?
 .....
There are so many possibilities in the reservation 7-11, so many methods of survival. Imagine every Skin on the reservation is the new lead guitarist of the Rolling Stones, on the cover of a rock-and-roll magazine. Image forgiveness is sold 2 for 1. Imagine every Indian is a video game with braids. Do you believe laughter can save us? All I know is that I count coyotes to help me sleep. Didn't you know? Imagination is the politics of dreams; imagination turns every word into a bottle rocket. ...imagine every day is Independence Day and save us from traveling the river changed; save us from hitchhiking the long road home. Imagine an escape. Imagine that your own shadow on the wall is a perfect door. Imagine a song stronger than penicillin. Imagine a spring with water that mends broken bones. Imagine a drum which wraps itself around your heart. Imagine a story that puts wood in the fireplace.

I won't try to make sweeping conclusions. Just wanted to share a heart's song to serve as chewing meat for the future. Back to our postcards pal...

Good times!

Jessica had written about work on her first card from January (a favorite subject of hers...) and on this second card mentioned she forgot to tell me of her fabulous week in DC!  She had visited and found a great new neighborhood (capitol hill) and a great yoga teacher (Noelle).  Sometimes when the weather is grey and cold, I need to be reminded that fun, friends and other exciting things can still exist.  Thanks for that pal :-)

A second chance

An ironic, final victim of the rainy nights of July 2011. This postcard urged me to look on the bright side when I discovered, earlier this month, that Lynn's use of water color pencils had downsides as well as upsides. The cutout on its left side was a saving grace since at least it did not blur and run when it became wet. Lucky for Lynn, I have become good at throwing back my shoulders and moving forward when life gets muddled. With rose colored glasses on the bridge of my nose, I pulled out a black pen and a red colored pencil this week and gave the washed out postcard a touch up so that it was blog worthy enough for this post.

On the pink underbelly of this card, Lynn checked in to see how I was doing on my 2011 new year's resolutions. Had I made it through January successfully? Her resolution was to slow down and think more carefully. I laughed when she then wrote, "Do you think watching a lot of documentaries counts?" This year, my goals for 2012 are quite similar to Lynn's last year - Slow down - and no, I have not kept them even though we are only 1/26 of the way through the year. Can I hit restart sometime around June? I want a do-over.

Tangled/Untangled

When I tried to think of what to write for a title, I guess I interpreted Jessica's card a bit.  She wrote this to me last January saying she was feeling refreshed by time at home and then feeling like there was a lot to do to get ready for a new assistant director coming to Ghana (hence the tangled and untangled idea). Overall I think this is a good theme for January, we are starting fresh but often give ourselves tons to do as well begin the new year. 
I hope the scan of this card shows all the little stick figures doing little activities among the colorful swirls well enough for you.  I think my favorite might be the little guy to the right, just about her signature- what is he holding? I imagine he is juggling fire, what about you?

A shadow of fun

When I saw Lynn last Christmas, she had just moved into a new house and was relieved to take pause from moving and renovations. After hearing what this involved, I remember thinking, as we ordered yet another cup of coffee, that she deserved a bit of a break.

Coincidentally, the postcard (also victim of my primal living conditions) I received a few weeks later confirmed this. Wishing for more than household chores, snow shoveling and slushy urban slop, Lynn daydreamed about the simplicity of summer. You can almost hear crickets when you think of backyard camping, which is not typically a winter activity (unless you are my brother who dug snow caves to sleep in behind our house when we were kids). Lying in the grass in your tent with your book and your flashlight, flashing an occasional shadow puppet on the wall next to you. Who doesn't miss these moments when it gets cold?

So here we are again. Its January. Lynn has been just finished putting in hardwood floors and has completed her holiday family tour. Winter and snow shoveling are here. Luckily flashes of summer fun are not completely elusive, and can be practiced. A flashlight and bare wall is all you need for shadow puppets, right? Perhaps it should obligatory to 'practice' having fun in January so that you are really good at it once summer arrives... maybe my brother was on to something.

Sweater fuzz

This seagull's sweater is rather fuzzy, which may strike you as odd even if you are not used to seeing fully clothed, pipe smoking fowl. Unfortunately, this hearty bird, and his sweater, was inadvertently exposed to bad weather. You see, this card should have been posted in December 2011, but was not because it was lost. After searching in drawers, cupboards and folders in my office and home, I finally, after a month of searching, found Lynn's December postcards in a cupboard near where my roof leaks (I apparently did not know it leaked when I received the post card last year).

My leaking roof was the bane of my existence during the rainy season. Regular torrential downpours meant that it was wet both inside and outside my house. Not sure what else to do, I would place pots strategically so as to control the water and capture pinging drips as they fell. Along one cement wall, the flow was constant. After the rain subsided the first time this happened, I sprung to action and contacted a repairman. He promised to come immediately. Long story short, after many complications including wasps nets, tree limbs and long work trips, my roof was only fixed after the rainy season ended. Thus every time it rained, I would fear that either A. I would drown in my sleep or B. my roof would cave in. Luckily for me neither A nor B happened and Ghana's sky is now clear.

Thank goodness this bird was dressed appropriately for the weather, but I am sorry Pal for adding substantial fuzz to his sweater.