Shit got broke!

This is what happens when you try to have a nice pizza party in portugal.

The Winters of Moses, by way of London

Andy "Memphis" Winters and his daughter, Eloise
Ellie. the 12 year old reader and baker
Von, the "big mama" originally from Barbados
Not pictured: 14 year old Josh, he was off being 14. Very hard work!

We are now at our second WWOOF farm. Stones and Roses at Moses. It is an amazing family relocated from London. They bought an old abandoned farm in the mountains of Portugal at the end of a 6 month road trip across Europe. See their blog: Poop in Europe. They spent the last 3 years rebuilding the houses, terraces, gardens, etc. It is beautiful and they one day hope to make a Yoga Retreat, but for now we are staying in a seperate house on the land and helping with the numerous necessary tasks. So far including: watering, grape-picking, wine-making, making wood chips, pruning olive trees, taking down the garden for fall, cooking, baking, and so much more. They are working towards complete self sufficiency and have some wonderful eco-friendly things happening, such as "dry toilets."

They are really wonderful people and very welcoming. We are having a great time out here!

redheads can´t donate sperm and other theories

So we are at the first farm in Vila De Paços, Portugal. To be more honest, it is a large back yard full of trees, some vegetables, chickens, dogs, and now a goat. There are many fig and olive trees; the former being delicious when eaten right off the tree, the later being gross. We are generally having an excellent time!

Our WWOOF host is Sam, an Australian expat. An artist his whole life, Sam has only recently entered the world of permaculture, but already fancies himself an expert. In truth, Sam fancies himself an expert on many topics, and these are the source of sometimes amusing and sometimes frustrating dinner conversations. He has informed us of many things that we were completely unaware of before. Did you know, for instance, the US government puts flouride in the water to make Americans docile? Or that it is illegal for redheads to donate sperm in the US? Or that we have "black satellites" capable of taking 3D pictures of your life from space? Be warned though, if you investigate these things too much, you may, like poor Sam, get a stern email from the CIA asking you to stop. There are a plethra of others whch Sheeba has graciously recorded in her journal, so if youd like to hear more, I would be happy to educate you on the evil subversive actions being taken by governments around the world (but mostly the United States).

Our work here has mostly included cutting back blackberry vines and moving/throwing sticks from one pile to another. The first time we did this, we succeeded in making a goat pen. This was actually only decided upon after we had done all the work and Sam came down, looked around, and said, "let´s go get a goat." We also have been clearing out the brambles from around the olive trees so the olive harvest can be done more easily. My legs are the proof that this is in fact a painful and sometimes dangerous task, and I look as if Ive been walking through rooms full of feral cats. That being said the work feels neccessary and is rewarding. This is farming. Its all the crap that you dont want to do but need to do anyways. Plus I got to use a pick axe.

Just a basic update

Internet options are sketch. I've been in East Africa a week or so. Went up to see Victoria Falls (beautiful) in Zimbabwe, which is ranked only behind Somalia as a "failed state."

Now in ARusha, TZ. I lived here 7 years ago and despite a few more petrol stations and new big buildings, the smells and people remain the same, and it still makes me heart smile.

I begin my Kilimanjaro ascent with my mother in 2 days. LOVE

the duke of argyle

What do you do when you have a 10 hour lay over in London?

-Navigate london/heathrow for way too long getting no useful information... to the point you eventually have to ask a security officer, "how do i get out of here?"
-take the tube to "Piccadily Circus"because it is the only stop you have ever heard of
-wander SOHO feeling rather cool but also freezing your ass off because you are wearing clothes for your summertime arrival in cape town
-convince yourself that the coats and scarfs you have found (at the best vintage store EVER!) are not actually necessary for more than a couple more hours, max.
-have a pint and some soup in a traditional english pub.
-return to heathrow via tube
-wander international terminal, which only sells really high end items you can't afford or drug store things
-become utterly confused to the point of loosing interest by watching the first episode of the final season of LOST
-buy pricey airlines socks to help with the inevitable feet swelling
-have dinner of white bread, with slices of cold cheese, and way too much chutney (apparently something the british consider worth selling)
-get durnk
-get drunk
-be drunk enough to justify paying for one of the internet kiosks just to update your blog from London
-discover your flight is "delayed" with no explanation, ETA, or Gate number to be found
-blog

(a note: the duke of argyle was a pub I considered eating at, but instead went into the blue post, a really nice english spot, but an admittedly inferior name)

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change of plans

So I'm coming clean. I'm putting it all out into the internet universe, because there are 9000 steps I need to go through in order to deal with my life right now, and admiting this as publicly as i can make myself seems important.

I got dumped. I am heart broken. I literally peeled myself out of a pool of tears and got on the next flight home from cape town after he told me. Some grand gesture, usually reserved for movies, but you know me.... i hop on planes. I think even getting on the plane I knew it was futile; knew I was coming home not to save anything but to say good-bye. I figured at the very least, I was going to make him watch me collapse in pain, if thats what it came to.

Luckily it didn't. I am awesome and handled everything better than anyone imagined I could. I am understanding. I manage to convince Trent to do what our relationship deserves and celebrate our love for a few more days, talk about it all, cry together. He was also wonderful and agreed to do those things, even though it was harder than the dump someone over a payphone and start sleeping with other people instead of dealing with your emotions way he had planned on. We both tried to be brave. I love him and he loves me, and somehow we aren't going to be together anymore despite those facts.

Am I okay? No. I am a freaking mess. I am all over the board: sad and scared and angry and even occasionally excited. I cry. I send him texts when I shouldn't. I self-medicate. I cry. I avoid music and movies for the obnoxious presence of love in EVERYTHING. When I'm not doing that I cruise the internet for options of what to do next... because here I am. I have no commitments to anything or anyone. I have no home. No job. No bills. No responsibilities. No people to leave behind. I am completely free. I am in a position people find enviable, but no one has any idea what to actually do when you can do anything. I also find that the only thing i really want to do is move home to Trent and start the life I'd been planning on... but people tell me that desire will fade with time (please whoever is in charge of this... make it fade faster).

So thats that.


An additional note: Yoga has proved a window to my soul this week. Firstly, I find that I can't hold even the simplest balance poses. I am TRULY off balance right now. It is so scary having to remember how to balance just as yourself again. And hip openers notorious for releasing all the emotions that we hold in our hips, are some of the most gruelling experiences I've put my body (and mind) through. Not only did I cry, borderline sob, while holding half pigeon, but I actually have felt very physically ill from this pose every time I've done it this week. Talk about releasing toxins... ugh. but found this new mantra I'm going to give a shot: I am in perfect balance. I move forward in life with ease and joy and can release old patterns and emotions that no longer serve me. I am loved. I am safe.

Beaverlac!

lisa and xoli getting all wet
me sunning myself from the top of a giant boulder

BEAVERLAC!

I’ve mentioned that people here are reminding me of the true definition of “welcoming.” As a great example, Janna, the director of the Earthchild Project planned a big camping trip for her 30^th birthday (among other events) and not only invited me after only knowing me 3 weeks, but found me rides and mattresses and tents and all the necessities. So I spent last weekend camping at Beaverlac!

A short walk from the campsite are all these natural pools along a river. There are big flat rocks to lay on and climb about on (I got semi-stuck during some of my personal adventures on these rocks, but I enjoy problem solving, so its okay). There are “fufi slides,” which in context are just flat rocks you can slide on, lots of places to jump from, waterfalls to enjoy, and hikes. Honestly, I spent too much time eating and laying in the sun to worry about that last one. Anyways, here’s a couple pics so you can all be jealous of me and my cool African friends playing in a river.

As a side note, there are lots of Jews in South Africa. I had no idea! It never even occurred to me that Jewish people would have made their way to the bottom of Africa… but they did. In droves! Most of my friends here are Jewish. Its also interesting because there is a lot of pride and camaraderie in their Jewishness, even though most of them practice more meditation, yoga, and other hippie spiritual activities far more than I’ve ever seen them practice anything Jewish. BUT South Africans are very interested in where you come from. You’re clan, your race, your history. I think the Jewish pride I’m experiencing is another manifestation of this cultural tendency that isn’t such a big deal in America, where most of us consider ourselves Americans first and our other backgrounds distant seconds.

All my love!