sea-2-see

Postscript | The Last Post (on Future Life)

2010-05-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have been following this journey of mine from the very beginning may recall that a number of things happened early on to have me identifying strongly with Abram (a central character in the sacred text common to Jews, Christians & Muslims).

Abram set out from a place that had been a source of security & comfort to him for many years, knowing that the Spirit of God had prompted his departure, but not knowing where it was he next destined for. He was to be led to paradise, where he would become a blessing to all the peoples of the world. His journey concluded in Palestine where he became the founding father of Israel.

Similarly, I left New Zealand knowing that I was being encouraged from above to move on and seek out my own personal paradise - that being a place where I could make a significant contribution t0 meeting the needs of others. While traveling the world I expected to find multiple places to which I could return as a development worker, especially while volunteering throughout the Caribbean & Central America. But I only found a few places to consider returning to, and as I looked into these opportunities, I found that they held less and less attraction for me, as they didn't seem to offer the support and/or experience I was hoping for in the sort of time frame I had in mind.

So one fateful night on the northern coast of Tasmania, during my first stint of professional work in Australia, I lost my rag and let God know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t happy with how few good options I had for the rest of my life. I even stooped so low as to threaten to return to commercial optometry, that’s how mad I was. The next day I received an email in my inbox that led me back to the positions vacant page on the International Centre for Eyecare Education (ICEE) website. Between that day and the last time I had looked a new position had been posted which was described in the following way: ‘Optometrist to join the Northern Territory Eye Team’.

As some of you know, my long term plan for a few years now has been to return to Australia so as to attempt to get involved in offering health services to the Aboriginal people. My desire to seek out development work overseas was really born out of two thoughts: one, I might learn some new tricks serving in an exotic location where unique opportunities abound; and two, the experience gained in such activities would make me a better candidate for a public health position in Aboriginal affairs when I finally returned to Australia to live. The job description on the ICEE website read like my dream position, the one that I hoped to find when it was time to resettle in Australia, reading it actually caused me to wonder if someone had been reading my mind.

With little to lose and much to gain, I set about preparing my curriculum vitae (for the first time in my life) so as to submit an application for the position. I knew that I didn’t have all the qualifications and experience that they hoped to find in the successful candidate, but I also knew that there probably wasn’t many optometrists in Australia with those skills who were not already employed in such work. Three interviews later I was awarded the position.

My paradise turned out to be Australia (I probably should have guessed that); Darwin to be specific (I never would have guessed that). In being granted this job I have effectively stepped over my short term plan (which was to work abroad for a few years) and into my long-term one (working amongst the Aboriginal people in Australia).

I don’t think I would have the job now if it wasn’t for the volunteering I did last year. Much of the volunteering I did last year was with ICEE. I was therefore somewhat of a known entity around the organisation, especially as some of the key managers had been reading the reports that I was periodically issuing throughout 2009. I also had the ICEE coordinator for the Latin American region as one of my key referees. Furthermore, I am sure that the experience I gained working in cross cultural settings last year strengthened my application and proved my commitment to development work. In these ways, the journey that I have been on since leaving New Zealand has both prepared me for and led me to the next phase of my life.

There are actually a number of parallels - some intriguing and others trivial - between how I got the job that took me to Dunedin (for nine of the greatest years of my life) and this one which is moving me to Darwin:

I was made aware of both positions by an email that arrived the day after I had a big yell at God for not taking care of me (not my proudest moments, but strangely effective on both occasions).
Both sets of interviews involved a video conferencing call that allowed me to pull ‘the pantless newsreader’ stunt (see the photographs of both occasions, separated by ten years (as evidenced by the computer technology), below).

I didn’t really know anyone in either town at the time that I was awarded each position.
Both towns start with D and are roughly the same size (~125,000, which is my preferred size).

I start in June. My official title will be “Project Development Officer (Northern Territory)”. My duties will include:

Providing optometry services to the Aboriginal people in Central Australia (both in a permanent clinic in Darwin & also in clinics that are temporarily set up in Aboriginal communities all throughout the Northern Territory).

Helping to coordinate the program that brings optometrists from all over Australia (& potentially elsewhere) into the Northern Territory in order to examine eyes in the abovementioned temporary clinics.

Assisting in implementing the optometry services in other areas of Australia, and adapting the delivery model to suit the local setting.

Preparing and delivering education sessions for Aboriginal Health/Social Workers on eye related topics.

Gathering statistics and generating reports in order to refine the service delivery model, apply for grants, and influence public policy.

The International Centre for Eyecare Education (www.icee.org) is an Australian based not-for-profit organisation. Its' primary aim is to eliminate the preventable blindness that is caused by refractive error. Once again it seems I have scored a public health position with plenty of variety to help keep tedium far far away.

The only things left to be said are that I am extremely grateful to my Creator for the wonderful life that continues to be gifted to me, and that I will not be continuing to blog my future experiences here as this little story has reached its' end and given birth to a new one. So it’s back to getting news about me from me using the old fashioned invasive techniques like email & phone calls. (No. I am not going to join F’book. It’s too cheap, & too easy, & too many other things I want to protect myself from.)

So then, from sea-2-see it's farewell, tam biet, ma'as salaama, shalom, elveda, athio sas, ciao, adiöh, & babay … adios amigos.

Peace be with you all …

big love …

lucas

The Final Act | Conclusions & Summary Statements

2010-04-11T22:47:00.000-07:00

Travelling a bit later in life has many advantages, a savings account (to complement and underwrite the credit card) & sensibilities (in the relative sense) immediately spring to mind, but probably the best of all the benefits is the extra contacts you have the world over.

I owe everyone I met last year – both those who planned to meet me and those for whom I was a surprise - a huge bunch of thanks.

Your generosity - which I experienced in so many places and in so many forms – has made my last twelve months simply incredible; You all made my travelling experience so memorable (and doable).

So now, as I prepare to return to a more settled and productive life, I am reflecting on all that has happened while on ‘the long way home,’ (having left my old life in Dunedin (NZ) in order to search out a new life somewhere), and I am finding that even by way of summary, I have a lot to write about …

About the Goodbyes

I have said way too many goodbyes this past year. If there was a downside to travelling the world over at the pace that I chose to, it was the consistency with which I had to say goodbye to good people who’s company had not nearly grown tired of.

I would dearly love to pluck all the great people I met last year from the places you now occupy and gather you all my current location, so that I could introduce you to each other. Ideally we would then grow very old together, traversing life's highs and lows as a big extended family, while simultaneously doing all we could to be a positive force for the cause of Good in our world.

About the Favour

As I began to say above, I met with so much unexpected and undeserved favour while on the road last year. Thank you so much to all those who took me in as a stranger, a friend, or simply a friend-of-a-friend, and proceeded to treat me like royalty. I am full of cherished experiences and memories because of the kindness & charity you extended to me. Spending so much time in other peoples scenes can be exhausting, I am both grateful to those who shared their space with me, and who did so much to make me as comfortable as I could be.

I could not have had the good times that I did have, nor the opportunities to be refreshed through the familiarity that come from family homes and friendly faces, had I not been connected to so many social networks (personal, professional & spiritual). The hospitality you showed me through opening up your homes to me and playing tour guide for your local areas greatly enhanced by travels. It also helped enormously in keeping my costs down. Thank you for being so kind and generous.

About the Money

Travelling for a year without engaging in paid work is expensive – especially in lost earnings. As stated above, the trip was made much more affordable by the generosity of the many kind folk who took me in while I was voluntarily homeless.

I need to also publicly thank the New Zealand Dollar, which, through the course of 2009, managed to shirk both the struggles it was having in the first quarter & the dire predictions of worse to come, and climb back to being around 75 US cents by the time I reached the Americas. (My first exchange into US Dollars was made at a rate below 50 US cents, so effectly, the bounceback performance of the NZD saved me a stack of space-bucks, for which I am now expressing thanks.)

Since returning to Australia and engaging in paid work again, I have sat down and tallied up (working in my preferred currency) the total cost of my travels in terms of the money I needed to out lay. As such I can now reveal that I spent just under half-a-billion đồng on my year abroad, which was only slightly more than I had set aside.

About the Blogging

Thank you to all those who pestered me to the point at which I promised to produce this travel blog before setting off. I am really glad that I did take the time to record my experiences in this way.

I found that needing to think about how to tell the story of each little epoch of my year – usually several weeks after the events – really helped to enrich the experiences of each country at the time that I was present, and to remind me what an amazing year I was in the middle of as returned to the experiences to create and upload the (belated) blog post that described them.

So much happened that is so easily forgotten. Now, because I was pestered, I have this electronic journal to remember the highlights of a whole year of travel, and a way to easily share these events with others.

Below are a couple of images (created using the website www.wordle.net) that contain the words I used most often in composing this travel blog (excluding the common words that carry no meaning). The bigger the word, the more oft it was used.

(Of course, for the sake of accuracy, all the words above & below should be within parentheses.)

About the English (&/or My Lack of Foreign Languages)

Another big shout out must be sent to all those wonderful people I travelled alongside who:

chose to speak English (it not being their primary language) in my presence so as to include me in the conversations;

&/or,

translated my desires & ponderings from English into the language of the predominant culture for me.

Thank you to these same people for so sitting patiently through my long-winded explanation as to why secondary languages are so scarce in the Australian population (which on reflection was just a really lengthy excuse for being as ignorant and self-absorbed as we actually are).

About the Deep & Meaningfuls

Thanks to all those who shared their hearts and minds with me. These exchanges, none of which I posted for the world to read about on this website, were actually the most wonderful things that I encountered last year, and as such, I really want to thank you for your openness and the honestly with which you spoke.

One of the hopes I had expressed when setting out on this journey was to engage in such conversations; I am deeply grateful to those who helped realise this hope. CS Lewis (creator of the Narnia children stories and great Christian thinker) once wrote these true words: “you don’t know your own theology until you can explain it in plain language’. By sharing your ideas and your life with me, and allowing me to share with you, I have come much closer to being able to explain the faith that I have in Jesus, which was significantly bolstered and deepened during the four years that I recently spent studying theology, such that I can express aspects of it in ordinary English.

About the Music

Listed below is the music I chose to form the soundtrack to various legs of my journey:

Crooked Fingers, Forfeit/Fortune (Album) Turkey/Greece

The Killers, Day & Age (Album) Guernsey

U2, No Line on the Horizon (Album) New York City

Bloc Party, Intimacy (Album) Cuba

Nick Lovell, Imaginary Boy (Album) St Lucia

Fanfarlo, Reservoir (Album) Nicaragua

Athlete, Black Swan (Album) El Salvador

Depeche Mode, Playing The Angel (Album) Guatemala/Mexico

Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago (Album) Australia
Bon Iver, Blood Bank (EP) Australia
Kina Grannis, Stairwells (Album) Australia
Jonsi, Go (Album) Australia
Art vs. Science, Art vs. Science (EP) Australia

Listed below are the tunes that chose me:

Cold Play, Viva La Vida (Single) NZ/Australia
Mystery Jets Young Love (Single) NZ/Australia
Black Eyed Peas, I Got a Feeling (Single) Cuba
Aventura, Por un Segundo (Single) Cuba/Central America
Makano, Te Amo (Single) Cuba/Central America
Makano, Dejame Entrar (Single) Cuba/Central America
Mana, Manda una Senal (Single) Cuba/Central America
Russell Leonce, Culture of Love (Album) Saint Vincent

I very intentionally chose to listened to one album per location, systematically moving from one to another as I crossed international borders, in the hope of creating musical memory prompts for some of the places I visited last year. I must say the early results of this little brain experiment are very encouraging, listening to the albums again this year has caused me to recall the feel & mood of the places I learned to love those tunes in. I think it's a really powerful way of encapsulating and preserving memories that you don't wish to lose with the passing of time.

About the Flavour [Food]

Thinking back through the various cuisines in which I partook while travelling has resulted in the compilation of the following menu, which is entitled “The 2009 Perfect Eating Day”:

Breakfast
Spicy Noodle Soup (Vietnam)
Vietnamese Coffee – Iced or White (Vietnam)

Morning Tea
Arabic Coffee (Palestine)
Swiss Chocolate (Switzerland)

Lunch
Fresh Bread and Hummus (Palestine)
Caribbean Passion Jamba Juice (California)

Afternoon Treat
A Fresh Coconut (Jamaica)
Gelato (Rome)

Pre-Dinner Drink
Michelada (El Salvador)
Cuba Libre (Cuba)

Dinner
Ceviche (Citrus Raw Fish Dish – Peru)
Tõna Beer (Nicaragua)

Dessert
Chilli & Tamarind Ice Block (El Salvador)

Night Cap
Aged Rum (Guatemala/Nicaragua)
Cuban Cigar (Cuba)

About my Favourite Accommodations

These be the favoutite places I used to rest my weary head when the sunshine had run short and the adventure of the day had wound down:

Traveller's Cave Pension (Goreme, Turkey).

Colors (Rome, Italy).

"The Schlössli" Le Rüdli [YWAM base] (Einigen, Switzerland).

Hostal Los Volcanes (Guatemala City, Guatemala).

Rocking J's (Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica).

Managua Backpackers Inn (Managua, Nicaragua)

Totoco Eco-Lodge (Ometepe, Nicaragua)

And all the homes of friends in which I was welcomed as a squatter for a while.

About the Global Lost and Found Department

I got an incredible number of lost possessions back while travelling, often under pretty miraculous circumstances:

List of things I lost that came back:

Wallet
Bible
Backpack (containing a camera, computer, $1000 cash, passport, and other minor valuables).
Thongs

List of things I lost that didn’t come back:

Sunglasses
Cap (x2)

I learned not to panic until I was sure I was sure I was sure that there was no possible way to get my belongings back.

About the Protection Plan

I must send out a large scale thank you to the Spirit of God who protected me, and led me to so many wonderful people and beautiful experiences, while out of the safety of my own environment. At no point did I find myself in real danger, and throughout the whole time I was on the road I experienced no more than a handful of minor health complaints, none of which prevented me from doing what I had planned for each day.

I was overwhelmed on more than one occasion by the goodness and nearness of my faithful Father God, who I know through Jesus the Christ. Truly there is no place on earth where you can escape His Spirit.

About the Carbon Emissions

I'm avoiding all calculator for fear of learning that I may never be allowed to take another motorised mode of transportation for the rest of my life (on account of the number of flights, buses, boats & taxi’s I have now used). I reckon about a thousand people would have been responsible for steering me on my chosen course last year as I sat within their vehicles.

About the Travel Bug

Travelling as I have done has proven once-and-for-all that I am not really a traveller; I got the urge to return to single location routine in familiar surrounds well before the end of my scheduled journey. And even with a normal life now just around the corner, I have little desire to get the backpack on my back again.

I confirmed what already suspected to be true of myself. My life is beautiful & fully satisfying when I have people to know and love (to be known by and loved) around me. Even in the midst of a stunning & exotic location, I found that if I didn't have anyone to share the experience with, the moment was often flat & sometimes unpleasant.

So then, in considering my social needs alongside my appreciation for beautiful places, what I desire most is:

1) people and place; followed by

2) people in no place; followed by

3) place with no people;

all of which is better than no people or place.

In other words, I am just as content & happy living in the one place in good relationships as I am on the road experiencing new things. The travel bug passed straight through my system.

About the Consequences / Outcomes

I believe my last year of life has been somewhat inefficient in terms of making the world a better place (I believe you can achieve more by applying yourself to your local environment), but rich in producing stories that I will be telling for the rest of my life and, most importantly, that have brought about the change in my disposition that I knew I needed.

In my last setting I had become stale and dulled. This past year has been a success in that it has caused me shake loose the apathy that had a grip on my spirit thereby helping me to become motivated to make my life count again. Put simply, my interest in being constructively involved in the lives of other people has returned in full. I want to do the good that I can do, while I have the time and energy.

I also have a renewed zest for life. I have the desire to learn and contribute.

I want to learn new sports, how to dance, how to surf, another language, a musical instrument, and more. (Not in that order and certainly not all in the next few months, but over the duration of a well planned & lived life.)

I want my life to count again, and that for me means doing what I can to make the world the sort of place its' Creator always intended it to be: A place of justice, fairness, equality, acceptance & love. I believe this is what Jesus expected (& expects) his followers to pursue with their lives when he encouraged them to 'build for the Kingdom' that he himself established and reigns over as the King.

Travelling has been good for me; It has renewed my sense of purpose and love for life (both my own life and the lives of others).

Again, thanks to all those who tagged along with me.

Act 31 | Australia

2010-03-23T04:22:00.000-07:00

It was the night before the night before Christmas and after travelling the world for ten months, the long route home had finally led me ... home.

Three of the most familiar faces in my life were at the airport to welcome me home (mum, dad & my eldest sister).

The following morning many more familiar faces were present for a familial feed.

It was truly great to be reunited with loved ones (& things) that I hadn't held for a year.

I've never celebrated Christmas anywhere other than Australia or without my family - this year was no different.

Christmas day was celebrated around the Thong Tree in Melbourne .

Mum booked the whole family into the Aussie Golf Ranch on Philip Island so that we could spend the last few days of the year together there.

We each assumed a food role to lighten Mum's work load and to ensure that no-one lost weight between the Christmas-New Year period.

Golf was the only loser that week.

And, as per usual, Little Sash was the centre of everyone's attention.

After celebrating New Year's Eve together (on a boat (which my father dragged through sludge - what a guy!)) with special guest star Ollie (the one-man-dial-a-party-machine), we posed for the annual Christmas family photo and headed back to Melbourne.

There was still time for more family fun on the beach of our old traditional stomping grounds - Port Melbourne - before mum and dad put an end to the festive season by heading home.

Along with the end of the festivities came the need for me to get my act together so as to earn some money again.

In a bid to appear slightly more professional I cut off the band that I had been gifted in Vietnam (the first country I visited) which had outlasted all my other "wrist-things" despite being held together by a flimsy woollen thread.

After travelling for ‘this long’ (see the above photo) the time had come to cut my hair for the first time since starting my travels. (I saw my mother's hair dresser and came home with my mother's hair style – an error that was amended a few days later.)

2010 looks like being the year I forfeit a number of life long boasts, such as never having owned a mobile phone. (This SIM card - my first, from the virgin mobile network - was necessary so as to be contactable by potential employers (& my family members who were sick & tired of not being able to contact me wherever/whenever).)

My family members (& their respective pets) were good enough to allow me to squat in their homes while I continued to sort myself out.

Settling back into life in Australia was proving to be a frustrating affair on account of the horrendous amount of paperwork that was apparently necessary to re-establish 'a presence' after ten years of absence; I was simultaneously finding the size of Melbourne quite intimidating as I periodically contemplated the thought/need of creating a new life within its bounds.

Not knowing exactly where I wanted to live in Australia, or if I was going to be heading back overseas to take up a job in international aid somewhere in the near future, I decided to set myself up as a locum optometrist (working as a professional temp) so as to stay loose and maintain tight control over my working schedule.

The decision to avoid full-time work was in a large part made so that I could prioritise spending time with Sasha and her parents, who had announced at Christmas that they were planning on moving to the UK in March.

I was in therefore in town to help Sasha celebrated her first birthday with a party at the local Children’s Farm.

Avoiding a proper job meant that there was ample time to ...

... watch Australia demolish the West Indies at the MCG with Tai ...

... to cruise up to Ark Central to visit the olds with Amanda and Ushka.

… to play lawn bowls with my father (who has just retired from a lifetime of teaching in the local highschool and joined the local club).

… and to hang with Sash and her support crew, both in the Southern Highlands (where my parents live) and in Melbourne (where Sasha's parent live).

Being prepared to work anywhere in Australia led to me earning my first professional Australian dollar in Burnie, Tasmania (some ten years after graduating).

Travelling around Australia for work allowed me to see some of my own country’s beautiful places (again), such as:

Cradle Mountain (Tasmania)

Stanley (Tasmania)

I got to fly over the spectacular red centre of Australia on my way to a week of work in the Northern Territory ...

... a trip which was completed by an adventurous drive down to where my skills where required.

Edith Falls (Northern Territory)

Australia is full of warning signs: crocodiles in the swimming holes & snakes on the golf courses.

I did two weeks of work in the Northern Territory which involved setting up temporary clinics in medical centres located in (or near) Aboriginal communities so as to provide them with eye care.

On one outing I was invited to spend a night on a central Australian cattle station - which oozed authenticity & Australiana.

The farmer on the station cooked up a great curry stew and spent the night telling me story after incredible story about things like catching & killing poisonous snakes, fooling backpackers into believing they had consumed Kangaroo eggs and milk, and (heaps of) local UFO sightings.

I didn't see any 'ming-ming' lights that night.

The Devil's Marbles (Northern Territory)

The travelling also gifted me another opportunity to connect with my brother on the edge of the Pacific ocean on the sands of a famous beach, this time it was Bondi Beach. (The waves were way better than at Venice Beach.)

Having chosen to live the life of a drifter, my 2010 life turned out to be far more like my 2009 life than I had expected: As before I was never sleeping in the same bed for more than a week or a night, living out of suitcases, spending way too much time in airports and on public means of transportation, and working in makeshift eye clinics.

There was also the familiar face of a good friend I had made in 2009 in my present year; Nelson was in Australia for a series of work related meetings, which gave me the chance to return some favour & show him around my adolescent neighbourhood.

The only "must-see" feature in my local 'hood is 'the big potato' at Robertson.

The time to say farewell to the Hodson's drew very close very quickly; It was their turn to leave the safely of the known in order to pursue foreign adventures & experiences abroad.

We were at the airport on the morning of their departure before we were ready for it.

Long last holds and hugs didn't last long enough (but they were never going to).

With one of my best reasons for delaying the establishment of a real life now gone; it has become high time for me to start organising myself out of 'detached drifter mode' and into a proper existence again: real work, my own place to live, a network of local friends, and a new church ... gulp.

Act 30 | New Zealand

2009-12-23T17:01:00.000-08:00

Returning to New Zealand equalled a return to familiar soil and familiar faces.

In a bid to see what all my North Island dwelling friends had added to their lives in the year I was away, I set off on a week-long round trip that took me through Awkland, the ‘Tron, & KatiKati, and back to Awkland again.

Susan: A daughter – Holly - who is my God daughter.

Suse was good enough to fly up from the South Island with Holly so that I could meet her for the first time; She was born while I was in Turkey.

We had a few days to get the low down on each other - she is super cool - she couldn't say the same about me.

Ali: A fiancée – Carmen.

Rueben & Alicia: A son - Caleb.

Jake & T & Issac: A baby bump.

Nathan & Andrea: A new house.

Jim & Skye & Thom & Esther: A new baby brother/son - Fergus.

Smoking Cubans with my original smoking buddy - doing our best to look like communist heavy weights (and only missing by a big moustache or two).

Inge & Nick & Elijah: A baby bump.

Malcolm & Vanessa: A new house and a new church.

It was a bit strange seeing some of my old possessions that I had gifted to others in their new homes (like my old bed, which tiggered the well established reflex of looking for Smurf as I prepared myself for sleepy time).

Michelle: A fine husband – Saone.

Justy: A beautiful wife – Jo (and a tattoo)

Jolyon: Who much like myself - doesn’t believe in complicating his life with such grown up additions - although I can now reveal that he had a new job (and hair that was more conservative than my own for probably the first time in our friendship).

I missed seeing Rachel who was ill with her new baby bump and being looked after by her new husband.

I missed Caleb and his new girlfriend who were visiting his grandparents who run a medical mission in PapuaNew Guinea.

I missed seeing Dan and Nic and their third baby bump.

And I missed seeing my many friends who still reside on the South Island (who I plan to visit next Easter).

Act 29 | USA :: In Transit

2009-12-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

Another early morning flight ended my Central American experience by transporting me back to Dallas Texas, where I had a day to debrief with Dr Nelson Rivera (and just bask in his fine company).

Nelson took me on a driving tour of Port Worth, as well as North & South Dallas, which allowed me a real life view of the Dallas Cowboy's new stadium.

Nelson continued the process of preparing me for life down under by opening one of his vintage reds - from an Australian vineyard.

It was -1 degree Celsius when I left Dallas, I had no idea that it could get that cold in Texas (it was beautiful).

Nelson has certainly been the most helpful, and probably the most important person in my life this year - the man is generous to a fault.

I had a 12 hour stopover in the Los Angeles airport on my way back to Auckland, which gave me time to tend to two of the year long projects I committed myself to this year.

I worked on my travel blog while drinking all manner of liquid from the best value refillable cup I have ever bought. (I was urinating hourly while strangers watched my belongings.)

And I finished reading the Bible by polishing off Song of Solomon (the metaphorically-explicit (non-illustrated) sex guide of the Bible), which i had intentionally left until last so as 'not to stir up or awaken love until it pleases' (as the song itself repeatedly suggests). (The ancient Jews didn't allow people to read this part of their sacred text until they were either married or thirty years of age.)

Act 28 | Mexico

2009-12-14T16:58:00.000-08:00

San Cristobal del Casa

I was still a travel leech when it came to making plans for the day, as such I was easily convinced to join the trio of girls I met at breakfast on a trip to the Sumidero Canyon (which I didn't even know existed).

The outstanding feature along this spectacular stretch of river is a rock & moss formation that resembles a Christmas tree (highly appropriate given we were visiting on the 1st day of December - the first day of Advent).

It turned out that Andreja, Jelena & Helena - all from Slovenia - were roughly planning on visiting roughly the same places in Mexico as I was in roughly the same time frame, and so we ended up travelling together on a day-on/with-day off/without basis.

After lunch, the girls - or more accurately, the two girls with the shopping addiction - insisted on a return to the local market.

El Pachan

A long winding bus ride through the mountains brought me to the jungle town of El Pachan.

I stayed in a simple room surrounded by jungle (& associated insects).

I arrived mere hours before Team Slovenia moved on to their/our next destination, which was just long enough to find out what to order from the local restaurant. (As long as you stick to the tourist trail you can still get a cold drink and a restaurant meal even when in the jungle.)

El Pachan is on the tourist trail because it is walking distance from the Palenque (Mayan) ruins.

Merida

There was plenty of culture on display in Merida, most of which was local in flavour, unlike the dance review (shown below), for which they closed off a main street, that included a Michael Jackson medley .

Catching up with the girls (who were still a day a head of me) meant that I plans for the day we had together, plans - but not directions.

It also meant I had people to share my family photos with one more time. (Most of the photos were of Sasha.)

We took a bus to the coast to see flamigoes, which occasioned me with the opportunity to spread the audio love four ways via my starry headphone splitter.

We didn't get that close to the flamigoes; In fact they didn't look much bigger than the many mosquitoes that were biting us at the time (of course the birds were much pinker).

Guess who .?.?. guess where .?.?. MJ - everywhere.

Playa del Carmen

The girls headed to Chichen-Itza, I was 'ruined' when it came to ruins, and so chose to travel on ahead to Playa del Carmen on the coast.

Playa del Carmen is a major tourist destination for sun lovers.

Mexico, as a 'second world' country, was generally good for being gently reintroduced to the developed world; But Playa del Carmen is not just developed, it is over-developed and stomach turning, I decided to avoid the avenue of affluence by spending time on the sand. (Avoiding the over-produced food options was more difficult.)

You know you’re missing home and probably ready to return when you start ordering items from a menu based solely on the fact that they are named after people in your family who you haven’t seen in a long time – this is me and the Tai Tai (tofu salad) & the Sasha (wheatgrass juice) – served in the colours of Australia.

I spent quite a bit of time reading my way to the end of the New Testament, which just left me with one book in the Old Testament to read (which I’d been putting off) in order to finish reading the bible in its entirety while travelling. (Quite by accident the last passage that I read to complete the NT was the parable of 'the ten minas' in Luke 19, a parable that haunted me throughout my lifetime with its' call to make good on the opportunities God has given you to live a productive and fruitful life.)

Jesus is still the best thing in/about the bible – there is so much weird stuff in the Old Testament (good thing I only read it once every ten years) – those pages of my bible are now filled with lots of question marks alongside the text.

The Bible I have carried with me and read all around the world is now probably my second most valuable possession in terms of sentimentality (behind 'murf the smurf).

The up side of being in a tourist trap is that there are plenty of beautiful spots to watch the night grow dark in comfort among friends.

My two options for getting back to Mexico City in time to see the city itself before flying out of the country, were a 24+ hour bus ride or a plane flight flight that was going to cost quite a few more pesos.

The decision was made a whole lot easier when the airline decided to have a timely sale.

Mexico City

Mexico City is extra extra large.

It seems some countries around the world are less accepting of the idea of a warm Christmas than Down Under.

The streets are a little filthy.

Mexico City is full of Catholics and old impressive Cathedrals like the one below.

Catholics appear to have the blessing of the Virgin to gamble their earnings away.

The metro is a colourful place - yep that's a real lizard riding the tube in the photo below - didn't even turn too many Mexican heads.

At every stop another person with a back pack full of speakers would enter the carriage and plays a few seconds from each track of the pirated mix cd they had for sale.

Street food was the order of the night when I was exploring the city on my lonesome.

When in the company of new friends it was all about the sit down meal.

This is the Australian Filipino family I was sharing a room in the hostel with, who were simply awesome – they taught me to levitate …

We happened to be in town for one of the biggest pilgrim events on the planet.

Each year literally millions of Mexicans travel to the Basilica for the Feast of our Lady of Guadelupe on December 12.

A heap of them travel hundreds of kilometres on shonky bikes with their family icons strapped to their backs.

Team Australia decided to walk several kilometres with the pilgrims to see just how close we could get to the church that houses the original icon.

People line the streets with food to gift to the pilgrims on the night before the day of the feast.

The super zealous crawl the last kilometres on their hands and knees (and require a support crew to move the carpet pieces).

This is as close as we could get to the church before the movement on the street came to a stand still, we were still over a kilometre away from the church which was only just visible on the horizon (for those tall enough to see over the short Mexicans).

At this point the pilgrims began to bed down for the long night of waiting in the massive queue for their turn to file past the icon with their replica the following day (and in so doing receive the blessing to take home for another year).

These pilgrims are the real deal (they made the 'pilgrimage' I made earlier in the year look altogether too comfortable to be legitimate).

I mustered up just enough strength for another site of ancients ruins, Teotihuacán, belonging to the Aztecs (to complete the trifecta of ruins seen, the other two being Mayan & Inca).

When my Slovenian friends eventually arrived in Mexico City, I was able to be the social glue that stuck the two sets of people together.

We went to the rooftop restaurant with the great view for drinks (a little move I discovered in Cuba).

Tagging along with the Slovenians, as had become my habit, happily had me arrive at the home that the local artists Frida & Diego had shared for most of their married life.

Their wispy spirits hung around the place that has been preserved as a museum to their work and life together.

It was a place where creativity seemed to be easily found.

There was time that same day to visit the old castle, Chapultepec, up on the hill overlooking the modern city that had sprung up around it through the centuries.

We visited the local zoo which on two occasions at least, seemed to be preparing me for life back in my homeland.

Late on my last night in Mexico (before I started to head back home), I decided to set out to see the church that everyone was flocking to the day before, the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

This is the second most visited Catholic Cathedral in all the world (after St Peter's in the Vatican City).

The icon that so many had come to see is housed in the new church on the left.

Above is the icon that more than a million people had gathered to see the day before my late night visit.

I found a quieter corner of the complex in the old church structure, and in it a small chapel where, on my last night in Central America, I found myself in a meditative and thankful mood, contemplating the experiences of 2009 and the prospects that 2010 held, beneath a picture of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane praying 'not my will but your be done' to his Father above.

Act 27 | Guatemala :: Lake Atitlan

2009-11-30T16:54:00.000-08:00

My return to Guatemala (for the third time this year) was also a return to the daily grind of international travel, which is driven by the following kind of questions: Where is the bus stop .?.?. How will I know when to get off the bus .?.?. Where abouts will it deposit me in the new town .?.?. Where will I sleep .?.?. How will I get there .?.?. Will they accept American currency .?.?. Where did I put my passport if it isn't in the pocket of that bag .?.?. Where will I eat .?.?. What can I eat .?.?.

Sometimes - especially when your Spanish turns out to be a fair bit worse than you thought it was - you have to settle for peanuts for lunch.

When weaning your soul off several weeks of soaking up the comfort & love that comes with living in community, you can find yourself in need of some human contact; At that point, the Good Lord above may well send a very tired Guatemalan (who may or may not have been drinking) to sit beside you on the bus.

I was headed to Lake Atitlan where the plan was to R&R ... &RR (report writing).

When all on your own for lengthy periods of time you starting talking to yourself – and also to God (which isn't as crazy as it sounds, really - that's why silent retreats exist).

2010 was beginning to loom large, and starting to find rather mundane ways of entering into my common thoughts, which caused me to begin to seriously reflect on the year I was leaving behind and the year ahead.

If you must write a (self-imposed) report – write it over lunch beside a stunning view.

After a couple of days in Panajachel I made the move to San Pedro which is located on the far side of the lake.

The stand-out features of San Pedro are advertising, public affirmations of faith (neatly painted on concrete walls), and old school Rock’n’Roll tunes.

The nights were made far less dull than they would have otherwise been by the good conversation that was to be had with fellow travellers who were also finding the town a little too quiet.

After a couple of slow days & nights it was time to say farewell to the lake of R&R&RR ...

... and take the shuttle bus (past a homicide site) to the Mexican border and beyond.

Act 26 | El Salvador

2009-11-26T14:31:00.000-08:00

Liberation Theology

One of my reasons for wanting to visit (and perhaps work in) Central America is that it is a home to many Catholic ‘base communities’ - independent congregations who seek social justice in their localities - which the Liberation Theology movement of the mid-Twentieth Century gave birth to.

Liberation Theology was one of the more interesting things I learnt about while completing my most recent degree; on numerous points it resonates strongly with 'my kind of Christianity'.

I gained an introduction to the base communities of El Salvador through Fundahmer, a local NGO that continues to work among these Catholic groups.

The Connection

I gained an introduction to Fundahmer through Laura; I gained an introduction to her through a chance meeting, brought about by a case of mistaken identity (she thought the back of my head looked like the back of the head of an old friend of hers), some months earlier in Guatemala.

Laura also introduced me to my new favourite drink - the michelada - which is full of my favourite things (worcheshire sauce, lemon/lime, pepper & beer (a beer cocktail!)).

The Fundahmer Outings

I tried to make myself useful among the many employees and volunteers in the organisation (the room I was renting was attached to their office space in San Salvador).

With several volunteers I was able to make several voyages out into the spectacular countryside to see local communities in various states of action.

I went to visit Sacocoyo with Laura, where she will live (again) next year.

I went to Colon with Jennifier, where she would like to live next year, and where she is currently running the large youth group. (It was every bit as cool as it was unusual to see cult images the revolutionist Archbishop Romero - who is a national hero - complete with the clerical collar (seen below) spread all over the country, it was quite a refreshing site.)

Finally, I made a day long trip out to Morazan with Mercedes, Erika & Jennifier, who had planned an event for the locals in support of the national day 'against domesticated violence suffered by women'.

I opted for a seat in the back of the ute at the super-early-morning check-in so as to stretch out and get a little more shut eye.

A beautiful shady spot beside the river was chosen as the site for the rally.

People came from the five surrounding base communities.

Those who came were provided with morning tea followed by lunch.

The opportunity to dance in the daylight proved to be somewhat less popular than the food.

At the end of the long day of activity there was still before us, the long ride home.

I opted for a seat in the back of the ute again, this time it was for the good company and the chance to stare at the stars (when the rain drops weren't falling in my eyes) at high speed.

The FUDEM Outing

During my stay I also made a trip to Jayaque, with the FUDEM group, who are the most exceptional outfit offering eye care that I saw in all my travels.

FUDEM is the largest single provider of eye care in all of Central America; They have 160 employees spread over their three clinic locations, all in El Salvador. (Last year they saw over 200, 000 people, and dispensed over 100, 000 spectacles, at minimal (like US$7) or no cost to the patients.)

FUDEM were so organised that they had a team shirt ready for me on the one day that I joined their mobile team (who travel all over the country and who themselves saw more than 60, 000 patients last year). (And the shirt just happened to come in Dutch orange).

I didn't speak Spanish and this slick team didn't really need my help, so I found myself assisting by exercising some of my less complicated professional skills.

Later that day I did promote myself to a more complicated clinical setting (where I hand selected the easier patients to examine).

This was my final volunteering effort on this trip - I had certainly left the best organisation until last.

The timing of my visit was perfect in at least two ways: Firstly, Angel's father was in town, so I was able to meet him and join in on some of the excursions that were properly arranged for his benefit (such as a trip to the beach, that I can’t show you as I left with no memory card in my camera); and secondly, & most excitingly, I happened to be in town for Thanksgiving (or at least for the night that all the American volunteers were free to celebrate Thanksgiving).

Everybody pitched in with the food preparation.

My contribution to the meal was to make the NZ desert-delicacy ambrosia, which I did (más o menos) with the ingredients shown below.

It was the first time I have ever celebrated Thanksgiving.

There were heartfelt and memorable speeches given as each person present shared what they were currently thankful for in their life.

The night had a particularly Cuban flavour on account of Angel's father's nationality, his ability to make smashing mojitos ...

... and the cigars we smoked together at the end of the evening.

I meet some truly spectacular people during my time in El Salvador:

Mercedes

who won’t mind me telling you that she had her life transformed by an experience of God’s Spirit (who she was doing her best to avoid at the time) such that she ceased being a suicidal workaholic and is now spending her time living amongst & serving the poor in El Salvador. (She also has the cutest voice, which I wish was visible in photographs for you to hear.)

Angel

who is helping farmers throughout the country move towards more ecological and sustainable farming practises, and who I will forever love for introducing me to the tamarind and chilli iceblock.

Jennifer

who is all over the country working among the youth in the base communities.

Luis

the self proclaimed ‘survivor’, who allowed me to place my finger in the hole in the back of his skull where a bullet from a gang member messed him up, causing him to need to learn to walk for the second time in his life. (I bought jewellery that he had made as souvenirs for my sisters and mother.)

El Salvador has the worst reputation for violent crime in Central America, and rightly so, because of the large gangs present and active in the country, my conversation with Luis was fortunately the closest I got to the violence.

Laura

last but by no means least, the girl who made my whole El Salvadorian experience possible by welcoming me into her world during the fifteen minute exchange that resulted from our chance meeting in Guatemala.

Laura has been assigned to Fundhamer by the Art Corps, a really really interesting organisation that connects people with artist skills to local communities that are oppressed so has to lead and encourage them to pursue social justice through the visual arts.

At the beginning of my stay I was able to be included in one of the creative arts workshops that she was conducting for other staff members of the Fundahmer team, (that was when I first discovered my inability to find a puppet voice).

I was also able to help Laura finish painting some of the banners that she was making for upcoming events.

When she had time Laura was also my social events organiser, taking me to listen to jazz in the park along with her friends, for instance.

On account of my collective experiences in El Salvador and thanks to the people above, I left the country with more dance in my step, more poetry in my speech, and far better connected to The Creative Creator of all creativity than I had been for a very long time.

Act 25 | Honduras

2009-11-17T14:29:00.000-08:00

I felt perfectly justified in choosing to pass directly through Honduras on account of the growing political unrest (& impending elections) when the bus I was traveling on was stopped a distance from the El Salvador border along with all the other vehicles.

After a long wait we were told to walk to the border and board the bus of another company so as to complete the journey.

Given the chaos – there wasn’t opportunity for a stamp in my passport.

All up I spent five hours in Honduras – two more than expected - it was quite pretty.

Act 24 | Nicaragua

2009-11-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

Managua

I was fortunate enough to have Dr Alejandra Narvaez at the airport to collect me on arrival because her organisation (VOSH) had arranged for me to deliver some lectures at an optometry seminar at the local university - she insisted on feeding me before dropping me at my hostel (I didn't resist).

One of the few upsides to not being able to speak Spanish in a Spanish speaking country is that every so often you get assigned a charming and talented interpreter – such as Dr Alejandra’s daughter Danessa.

Both mother & daughter were gracious enough to spend one of their few days off showing me two of the local sites: Volcano Masaya & Catarina (Lago Apoyo).

The morning after arriving I had the good fortune to take breakfast at the same time as Jamie and Julie in the hostel.

They are both working with a local NGO that is seeking to better the lives of the kids who work on the streets of their local area, I was midway through describing a similar place I has seen earlier in my travels, when Julie interrupted and guessed that I was talking about Jamnesia in Jamaica, it turns out they had stayed there for several months last year - and so we became friends for life.

The girls introduced me to the rest of the crew, all of whom live at the hostel and work in the attached café & juice bar which raise funds for the youth program (which I got to see in action).

San Juan del Sur

I had a week before the optometry seminar began, which I spent in the south of Nicaragua, beginning with San Juan del Sur, a popular beach location for travellers with limited funds.

The setting sun at San Jaun never ever failed to impress.

I got a bit stuck in San Juan (meaning I stayed a few extra days) on account of the number new-found friends and interesting conversations I kept discovering around the place.

These two guys from Israel were particularly good conversation partners (and they knew where to find the best food in town at the best price).

Turns out the local boys needed someone large like me to toss them over the local waves (they were at their most entertaining when pulling Michael Jackson dance moves on the sand).

What are the chances of four people sitting down to dinner together and finding out that they are from four different families all of which have four children .?.?. (We doubled up on the third child and lacked a second eldest.)

The fourth member of the dinner party is pictured below - surfing - as the three girls spent the following day in lessons.

That was the same day I reconnected with the abovementioned Managua crew, who just happened to be in town for a long overdue team retreat.

A few of us rode bikes along the bumpy muddy road to reach the surf beach where the lessons and the rest of the team were.

We timed the bike ride home perfectly, arriving at the main beach to see the sun fizzle into the ocean below.

I developed the healthy habit of walking the length of the local beach each morning at San Juan ...

... so as to sit at the feet of Jesus (who stood a top the headlands) where it was easy to meditate and pray.

Ometepe

Ometepe is an island in the middle of a large lake (the only one in the world with fresh water sharks) that was formed by a couple of volcanoes.

Ometepe can also turn on a sunset.

The bright colours of the hostel that me and my friends-for-the-day (Matt and Shelbi) stayed in seemed to attract the local crazies.

Our marathon game of cards was briefly interrupted by a deer that wandered by the table .?.!.?.

The next morning, almost after the overnight rain had stopped, we scaled Volcano Concepcion (the larger of the two volcanoes) to where the vegetation stops and the vultures soar.

I spent the remainder of that day making my way to the Totoco Eco-Lodge on the other side of the Island- where I reconnected with my ecological & vegetarian tendencies in place that was just like heaven.

The journey to Totoco ended in darkness, ascending an unlit rocky path for more than a kilometre in the pouring rain while wrapped in plastic and with all my belongings strapped to my person.

The dorm room, which I had all to myself for two nights, was well worth the uphill struggle.

This was the view I had from the top bunk in the middle of the night, and then again upon waking.

I needed to spend the day that I was at Totoco prepping lessons for the upcoming seminar, so I set up some ‘office space’ in the restaurant and did my best to concentrate on the little screen in front of me rather than the big volcano above it.

Granada

I paused in Granada (another colonial town) on my way back to Managua, where I enjoyed the company of a large crew of fun loving Southern bound travelers for a night.

Most people travel South through Central America; as one travelling in a Northern direction I found myself swimming against a constant stream of travellers, needing to say farewell to too many interesting people after a single night of contact – which is never enough.

The following morning I was all on my lonesome again; You definitely take more photos when you're on your own, especially when the city is pretty.

My favourite shirt (acquired at a second hand store in Guatemala) had sustained a nasty stain which the local laundry service had made worse; it required some loving scrubbing (which successfully removed stain and the design surrounding it).

Lesson learnt: Don’t remove stains in dim lighting (regardless of how cool and atmospheric the scene you're in may seem).

Managua (again)

I delivered two days of lectures to the optometry students from all four years at UNICIT (the only university that that trains optometrists in Nicaragua).

It was the first time that I have taught through a translator, which is certainly not without its' difficulties.

Leon

I was joined in Nicaragua by Dr Nelson Rivera (who delivered the last day of lectures at the seminar in Managua) the ICEE representative who has co-ordinated most of my volunteering efforts this year.

We had opportunity to visit Leon (another colonial town) with an ex-local, Dr Narvaez, on our way to Chinandega.

Chinandega

Nelson and I were headed to Chinandega to join a team of eye specialists (& some others who will soon be described) from the States who were in the area to provide five days of eye care for the local townsfolk.

The team included plenty of Christians (of all flavours), Muslims, a Jew or two, a Unitarian, and an out-and-out atheist (who was definitely one of my better conversation partners and friends), as well as a handful of undecided folk …

We were welcomed with a welcomed ceremony held in one of the poorest neighbourhoods of the town.

Most of our work was conducted in church buildings, one was overly bright, the rest were rather dark (and noisy when the rain was falling hard on the iron roof).

Nelson and I were responsible for the students in Team A, which included all the boy students and all the Asians; Nelson’s schedule only allow him to stay a couple of days after which, the team was all mine.

My Spanish was really no better than the week before; as such, I was assigned another sparkly translator, Petra from Canada.

I found I got more respect from the students if I carried a clip board and furrowed my brow (mostly because it concealed the fact that I wasn’t doing much most of the time).

It was enormously satisfying to see the students grow in confidence and clinic skills over the course of the week - they really made me proud - they're a great bunch.

Team A: (Back row, left to right) Jaison, Luca (aka, Me), Donald, Mark; (Middle row, left to right) Christine, Jessica, Nancy, Deanna, Salli, Petra, Doug, local interpreter; (Front row, left to right) Sadia, Vera, Karen; (Hiding behind the camera) Renee (mother of Deanna).

I was a little uncomfortable being referred to as Dr Luke - the students' insisted on the title as they believed it to be disrespectful to call me Luke or Lucas (as I repeatedly requested) - which just goes to show how much a victim to the tall poppy syndrome I am as a result of living all my life in Australia and New Zealand.

We were helped enormously by a number of church members (and a parent) who assisted us in the less technical aspects of our service.

The evenings were full of fun: riding on the back of trucks & motor bikes, eating out, and interacting with a big bunch of interesting and lively people (which led to many a late night conversation over a night cap) was super enjoyable.

Nicole (third from the left) had the best birthday of her life.

Mark, the nearest smile to my smile in the photo above, who was making his second trip to Chinandega this year so as to spend time with his dad who was also present, became a good friend in next to no time at all.

Below is Suzy - mastermind of the mission - who somehow remained totally likable while simultaneously keeping the forty of us totally organised.

A night (or two) 'at home' playing murder winks (aka marfia wars) reminded me just how good I am at being evil and lying to people who trust me.

Because Suzy is a member of a church she was also able to organise a small number of church members with building skills (or just a willingness to help out) to join the expedition so as to aid in the construction of a few houses over the week that we were in town.

Her church has been fostering a relationship with Santa Patricia - a refugee camp established in aftermath of Hurricane Mitch some ten years ago - for many years, members of the church pay for the uniforms necessary for the children to attend the public schools and also provide the funds necessary to build a concrete brick house for their chosen family (thereby replacing a tin shack).

I chose to spend our rest day helping out on a couple of the building sites, I was glad to be mostly useless on the sites as a local mason and labourers had been hired to do the real work.

I did manage to dirty up my soft professional hands just a little – even got me a blister .!.!.

This little guy attached himself to me early on and so became my apprentice for the day – which meant that when I saw him making the same mistakes I was making just five minutes before, I would give him that same advice that I was given (five minutes earlier).

Josh, the clergyman in the touring party, set up a gym for the local boys on one of the worksites.

Josh was less proud and more willing to get dirty on the dusty streets while playing with the local kids.

Mark's dad inherited a class of truants who preferred to be taught how to work with wood than how to read and write.

The students were given the opportunity to visit Saint Patricia on one of the slower afternoons.

This yielded the opportunity to witness first hand the basic living conditions of those we were serving with our professional skills in the clinics - it was a moving experience for all who took the time to visit the camp.

There was a farewell ceremony, complete with cultural performances and a procession to each of the houses built in the area (the local priest blessed each new home).

This was also our last chance to say goodbye to the people of Saint Patricia.

I really felt like I was living my ideal life that week: working side by side with wonderful people doing humanitarian work (in a teaching role) in the daytime, and talking through the issues that trying to help people (with or without the assistance of a loving & gracious God) raises with the same good folk in the evenings.

Managua (again & again)

I had grown far too attached to everyone to choose against travelling back to Managua with them so as to have two more days in their excellent company. (It must be noted that their interest in me was certainly feeding my narcissist tendencies.)

Our last day of activity included zip-lining down the side of a volcano.

Granada (again)

I chalked up a few extra hours in Granada - this time with friends.

Their were lots of last meals together.

At the point at which the goodbyes couldn't be put off any longer I found myself at the airport.

It was easily one of the best weeks of my life, I felt like all my previous life had been preparing me for the role I found myself in; In other words, I was able to the knowledge I have accumulated through my two degrees, and the skills I have developed in the professional world of optometry and in the church as a volunteer leader, as the young "doctor" with the sexy Australian accent (their words not mine).

A week of constant stimulation left me a lot exhausted, a little bit fragile, and overwhelmingly aware of the goodness of God, who keeps gifting to me wonderful experience after wonderful experience. (It was a bit hard to explain all that had happened and all that I was feeling to my parents on my over-sized skype phone.)

Having just experienced that total collapse of my social world again, and finding myself in the emotional wringer, it was good to be able to return to one of my homes away from home (wherever that is?) after saying goodbye to the team - the Managua backpackers inn ...

... where I was eased out of the sense of loss by the fine company of Jamie & Julie.

The following day an early morning bus ride through beautiful countryside sped me to the Northern border.

Act 23 | Peru

2009-10-23T16:34:00.000-07:00

I broke up my Central American tour (which does get a bit 'samesy') with a couple of weeks in Peru, mostly on the Inca Trail, with two mates i made in my high school days - the brothers McKay.

Lima (bonus day)

Lief (the older of the two brothers) had been in Lima for almost 24 hours before I arrival and was being considered one of the locals by some of the residents; Huw arrived in a jet lagged state several hours after me.

I ended up with a ‘bonus day’ in Lima as I was incorrectly thinking that we flew out of the city the next day.

Lief assumed the role of guide for the day, taking Huw and I to see all the sights he had seen the day before in downtown Lima.

We both took Huw to the complex high above the Pacific Ocean where we had spent part of the previous evening watching the waves roll in (from Australia).

Later that same evening we made time for a cigar in the central park to celebrate the fact that we were all together again for the first time in a decade, and in Peru of all places.

I love to listen to Huw talk economics while smoking a cigar.

Huw loves to set out his explanations with the assistance of graphs. (The topic for the night's discussion was global diamond prices.)

Cusco

We were given a day to ourselves in Cusco to acclimatise to the high altitude, which we spent wandering the central part of town, seeing the sights and sampling the local delacacies.

I have very mixed feelings about buying from children who are selling things on the street (particularly late at night or during school hours) and so generally avoid buying from them, in this case i was totally undone by the llama puppet on my finger.

Did I mention that the local delicacies are guniea pig and alpaca .?.?.

When in Peru - drink Inca Cola. (Especially if you grew up in Australia loving Passiona.)

Lief may or may not have inadvertently led us into an institute of ill repute in his urgent search for a toilet. (I knew something was not right when I couldn’t find a single television screen on in ‘the pub’ despite knowing that the national football team was playing at the time - now if that's not dodgy in Central America, nothing is).

The Personnel

We booked the Inca Trail though the GAP tour group, as part of the package we got travelling companies (at no extra charge) from all over the world - who were simply fabulous; Allow me to introduce them to you now:

Paul & Kelly,

a couple from England, who do not believe there is really a big potatoe at Robertson, NSW, Australia (seeing will be believing).

Klara & Olivia,

sisters from Sweden, who were easily the most competitive people on the trek, especially against one another.

Sunna & Mads,

a couple from Denmark, who introduced us to the confusing concept of 'the butter-hole'.

Alison & Stuart,

a couple from Scotland, who gave us Huw’s new nickname (Shuggie), and the opportunity to debate the relative merits of medical ‘doctors’ versus PhD 'doctors'.

Paul & Tony,

a father-&-son in-law combo from Canada, who added much needed experience to the team (thereby lifting our average age to a level where I turned out to look almost youthful).

John & Siri,

a couple from Australia, who proved that altitude sickness is no myth nor respecter of nationality.

Tanya

from the United States, who was voted most popular girl on tour after producing a bottle of Scotch while we were playing cards.

Huw, Lief & I

all from the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, Australia, 'nuff said.

Roddy & Ozzi

from Peru, our assistant and chief guide respectively.

The porters,

all native to Peru, and more than capable of packing up our campsite after we had left, and lugging huge amounts of equipment on their backs past us on the trail, so as to have the campsite set up (and the multi-course meal ready) by the time we finally arrived at our next destination. (They even carried the majority of our personal belongings, and then clapped us as we finally arrived.)

Best of all, they gently woke us each morning with hot water and drinks.

The Inca Trail

Day One of the tour a proper involved little more than being bused to a couple of Inca sites on our way to the beginning of the trail.

As on any organised tour, in any country (organised or otherwise), there is bound to be a visit to the local souvenir market.

Day two was the first day of hiking/tramping/bush-walking (call it what you will).

Before we could really connect over the challenge and beauty of the trail as a unified group, we needed to connect over a round robin series of football games.

The most competitive player on the park was Ozzie, followed closely by the Swedes; There were good skills shown all ‘round, without exception, no country was shamed that day.

Day three included the hardest climb of the hike, up to the highest point of the trail.

We were fortunate to have cooler weather and a spot of rain through the ascent (which gave Huw a chance to done the red robe).

The porters, who wear shoes made from old car tyres, powered their way past us again through the forest part of the track, making all the men in our party feel much more inadequate than we like to feel.

The thin air caused me to run short of breath of far sooner than usual, but i found i didn't have to stop for long before my strength returned as i hadn't acutally done that much work.

Not everyone cared to complete the journey 'clean' (without chemical assistance); Lief was nicknamed 'coco' after the leaves that are used to overcome altitude sickness.

It was very exciting to be higher than we had ever been before - you might say it was 'a mountain top experience'.

Day three was also the day I earnt the nickname given to me by the Swedes, in response to the way I enjoyed leaping down the path from stone to stone: "Legolas". (This was a much preferable nickname than the one Lief gave me for the same reason, that being ‘mountain goat’.)

We reached our destination in the mid-afternoon which gave us half a day sit and enjoy the view.

Later that night we played cards, enjoyed some good spirits, and become better friends.

Day four was a the longest day on our feet.

Part way through the day i seized the opportunity to live (or rather mimic) one of my all favourite paintings (Friedrich, Wanderer above a Sea of Fog). (I could have sworn the cane was on the left .?.?. next time.)

Day five started super early as our guide was determined that we be the first group in line for the opening of the check point. (We were there so early that we had an hour to search the sky for shooting stars before needing to be back in line.)

There was a bit argy-bargy on our way to the Sun Gate (Klara is sticking to her story wherein the girl overtaking her 'tripped' at the same time as she 'lent in her general direction').

We timed our arrival at the Sun Gate – where you catch your first glimpse of Macchu Pichu – to perfection, as the sun was just about to hit the city on what was a stunning cloudless day.

The remainder of the morning was spent posing for photographs and exploring the lost city.

Three things struck me as i moved through the ancient city:

1) The precision of the stonework;

2) The audacity of those who originally proposed building a city on top of a mountain that must have originally looked a lot like the surrounding peaks in the background of the photo below;

3) The devotion of the people who carried fertile soil from the Sacred Valley below to grow their crops in.

It had been a long day and some members of the team were starting to struggle to enter fully into the experience of it all; Fortunately their was a short train trip, followed by a long bus ride back to Cusco that allowed for some snooze time, before we dusted ourselves off and headed out for our farewell event, which included a last cigar in the central park.

Being late and a week night, the best place for our last drink was the hotel lobby, where there was no closing time.

Cusco (Bonus Day)

Early the next morning the McKay's and i arrived for our flight out of Cusco, some 25 hours early (after having less than three hours sleep); somehow all three of us had failed to check the date of our flight against the date of the day.

The upside to our mistake was having another day in Cusco, which is a way cool city.

Most of the bonus day was spent playing card games in our hotel room with the very same people we were expecting to spend the day missing.

The worst thing about our mistake was that we were around to partake in the worst pizza i have ever attempted to swallow in my life.

And of course, there was time for a second stab at a farewell party, which we managed to find a real venue for.

Thinking back over my Inca Trail experience, i recognised that i could have had any combiation of altitude sickness, constant rain or fog, &/or drab travelling companions to sully the journey; But i had none of that, what i had instead was the dream run.

Lima

After flying back to Lima and saying farewell to Huw, it was time to take care of some housekeeping matters and kill a day with Lief before his red eye flight.

Before I could leave Lima I met a couple who were on their first day of an 8 month vacation; As I was simultaneously on my 225th day, I thought it only appropriate that I show them the ropes by taking them on the same tour of the city that Lief took Huw and I on when I first arrived.

TACA

TACA is definitely my new favourite airline on account of them upgraded me to business class on three out of the five flights i took with them, I’m still trying to work out what I was doing right so that i can do it again.

Act 22 | Costa Rica

2009-10-12T15:28:00.000-07:00

Not far from the border is Puerto Viejo, which is home to the hostel with the most character & cool that i have stayed in: Rockin' J's.

For a day and a half i lived in a mosaic palace.

Not far from Rockin' J's is a path that winds its way along the coast through a mangrove forest (where fireflies sparkle in the darkle).

The path led to a beach ...

... which was perfect for rest in the daytime ...

... and for reflection in the evening.

A half day boat ride through the brown (crocodile and water-buffalo infested) rivers of the jungle, brought me to the much visited Tortuguero National Park.

Early the following morning, in between downpours, a boat powered by a skilled oarsman guided us through the jungle river system in search of wildlife.

We saw cayman (little crocodiles), all manner of birds (such as the blue, white & grey/silver herons), monkeys (howler, spider & white-faced), & lizards (including an iguana that was so well camouflaged that i still didn't see it until just a few metres away (somehow the guide saw it from the middle of the river while on the move)).

Our guide was so good at making the monkey calls that i needed to spin around several times during the journey to ensure that a monkey hadn't dropped into the boat behind me.

The animal that i was most hoping to see was the 'Jesus Christ lizard', which i did see, running across the top of the water.

The rain poured down through the afternoon thereby spoiling my plans to walk through the rainforest in search of more animals; It eased in the evening which allowed me to join the expedition to find the large green sea turtles that come ashore to lay their eggs.

I felt a little awkward being part of the small crowd that had gathered to watch the turtle lay her eggs on the same beach that she herself was born (some 30-70 years earlier); standing and staring as the turtle (who had gone into a trance) groaned the groan of labor pains was as weird as it was beautiful - it was a truly intimate moment.

Having done all that there is to do at Tortuguero in a day (even the owners of the hotel i was planning on staying in for three days strongly suggested that shortened my stay) it was time to leave; which meant saying my last goodbye to the Caribbean Sea, turning my back on it as i had done from many a side of the sea before, but this time not knowing when or if i would see or swim in her again.

I had a day or two to organise myself in San Jose, another grubby Central American capital city with not much to do or see (the real attractions in CA are in the rural districts away from the urban centres).

Both the junior and the senior national football teams where playing international fixtures on the day i went into the city centre (i saw the senior game in a bar later that evening).

If I ever put on an extra 20kg of upper body muscle mass, and invest in some more appropriate footwear, I will switch professions and become a rafting guide. (I was smiling in every shot that the professional photographer took of our team.)

The Pacuare River is rated the 5th best for (commercial) white water rafting in the whole wide world. (I'd love to get to the other four, and more.)

Act 21 | Panama

2009-10-05T15:27:00.000-07:00

The first thing I did in Panama was find a really easy way to quadruple the cost of the shuttle from the airport to my hostel, let me step you through the three stage process: i) leave one of your bags in the minivan when disembarking at the hostel (preferably the bag with all the money you've just withdrawn, one of your cameras, your laptop and your passport); ii) jump in a private taxi & pay a little extra in order to beat the shuttle back to the airport (so as to scare the driver of the first shuttle and collect your bag before the next run); iii) finally, catch another shuttle back to the hostel again … simple!

I self-diagnosed myself with travellers fatigue upon arrival in Panama (the symptoms of which are struggling to muster the motivation needed to open a travel guide and find a way of making the present day enjoyable); I thereafter became a parasite on other travellers with more zeal (& plans) than I.

Adrian, Maja & Stephanie were the three travellers who I first leeched onto in my sullen state, we went to the lookout in the city's botanic garden.

We failed to make it out of the RAINforest before the showers that fall every afternoon in Panama City began to pour down upon us.

You can’t be Panama and not see the canal.

However, you can expect the 'action' to be fast flowing (literally) and thereby be rather underwhelmed by whole long drawn out scene.

Turns out there was just enough time before catching the night bus to make an ill advised journey to the causeway for civeche (tasty raw fish) and sangria – the perfect way to farewell a rather forgetable city.

Industrial strike action over the issue of fresh water caused delays in the early morning boat taxi service to Bocas del Toro.

The hostel I was staying in was dead quiet; As such, I booked a day long tour of the neighbouring islands as much to see if I could meet some new people as to see the sights themselves.

This white sand beach was considered to be good enough to put a cover charge on the shoreline.

The tour was a great success in that I made friends with a bunch of Israeli tourists who loved to harvest the local coconuts ...

... which the boys used for sustenance …

… and the girls used to lighten the colour of their hair …

... regardless of the usage the result was always the same: the coconut's produced big smiles all round.

The following morning was spent fishing with two of the Israeli guys, one who had the good sense to bring his mother on tour with him (brilliant idea - why didn' I think of that?), the other who was travelling with his wife on a belated honeymoon.

I so nearly caught my first real fish (with no more than a hand line and a coloured lure made from a yellow drinking straw); I actually pulled the red tuna into the boat and was holding it up for a photo when it squirmed out of my hands and back into the ocean. (Knowing that we caught more fish than we could eat and that the stories of the ones that got away are often more interesting (and more easily exaggerated) than the stories of the first catch, I wasn’t overly upset with the result (unlike the captain of the boat)).

Because our surrogate mum loved to cook and the boys had caught fresh fish (well, the Israeli boys to be specific) two days running, we all pitched in to prepare two of the most memorable meals I will have this year.

Tropical rain storms are heavy man, and necessitate creative ways of getting home without getting drenched.

Act 20 | Trinidad

2009-09-29T15:51:00.000-07:00

Every resident I met - without exception - told me how dangerous it was to be on the streets of Trinidad; As such, I spent my few days on the island hiding out in a suburb located deep in the mountains where the Caribbean Nazarene College campus lives.

Watching the local news one evening wasn't simply a sampling of bad tidings - it was outright traumatising; It’s not just the fact that people are being murdered on a daily basis, it's the violent manner in which their lives are being taken from them. (There is a missing persons segment in the broadcast each night.)

Kel "connections" Harry had arranged for me to stay at the Caribbean Nazarene College while in Trinidad; Because of a shortage of accommodation I ended up staying in the home of the Principal and Dean of Students, a husband & wife team, Scofielld & Margaret, who are both highly autonomous high achievers.

Not only did they made space – their space – available to me for the few days I was in Trinidad, They encouraged me greatly with the earthy love they extended to me in the form of food, shelter and a couple of great sermons. (I was particularly grateful for the provision of a bedroom where I wasn't 'hot and bitten' each night.)

The college is just down the road from where Brian Lara, a world record holder in cricket, grew up.

A new cricket field is being constructed there in his honour. (If batting averages are any indication it will end up being half as impressive as Bradman Oval in Bowral (my old home town).)

Strangely, everyone walks with a caged bird in Trinidad, and if you’re not walking with it, you hang it outside your house.

In the words of a blind man, 'very superstitious'.

Trinidad was the last of my Caribbean destinations and the first place I got a tamarind ball. (Which is a surprise (and a shame) as it was a tamarind ball, sampled in NZ, that hardened my resolve to travel through the region.)

I left Trinidad feeling better organised than I think I’ve been all trip long: I had completed the reports I needed to generate on my time in the Caribbean; I got on top of my correspondence; & I made a couple of master plans for the upcoming month of independent travel in Central America.

Act 19 | Guyana

2009-09-26T15:47:00.000-07:00

Guyana was a wealthy country when big buildings were made of wood, so Georgetown (the capital city) is full of grand old wooden buildings.

The biggest and best example is the Anglican Church which was the tallest wooden building built in its day.

Since gaining independence from Britain some forty-odd years ago, the country has been in serious & rapid decline (despite remaining rich in natural resources).

The streets are littered with garbage and many of the wooden homes (that still house families) appear derelict.

I discovered Guyana when researching the poorest English speaking countries outside Africa: Guyana is at the very top of that list.

I was in Guyana as a volunteer with the International Centre for Eyecare Education (ICEE), a non-government organisation (NGO) who had organised for me to do some work with a local NGO, the Caribbean Council for the Blind: Eyecare Guyana.

I was hoping to help out at the school that Eyecare Guyana has developed to train student to do a simple eye examination; But school was out when I was in Guyana, so I didn’t get to attend or deliver any classes.

Week 1 :: Bartica

Not all the towns in Guyana are connected by roads because: the jungle is thick; the rivers are wide; and the boats are speedy.

I was on a boat destined for Bartica along with a graduating student and a vision rehabilitation officer, we were going to set up a temporary clinic in the small regional hospital which lacks a resident eye specialist.

The waiting room was full to overflowing when we arrived for our first day of work.

Because of the large number of patients, and at the request of the student (who I thought I was going to be simply supervising), I was put to work - and worked hard. (I didn’t have all the equipment I usually have while working in this kind of setting, as such, I think my first day of practicing here would rate as my worst ever – and I mean worst in terms of difficult circumstances, performance, attitude and results.)

A lot of people were getting their first ever eye exam; One young boy remained silent after I tried three different ways to get him to read the chart because he ‘couldn’t pronounce the word at the top of the chart, or any of the ‘words’ beneath it.’ (You forget that not everyone in the world is familiar with what is required of them in an eye examination.)

The most enjoyable part of this week for me was the novelty of telling people how much their glasses were going to cost them, as the inexpensive option was ‘a thousand dollars’ (one thousand just happens to be my favourite number) due to the weakness of the Guyanese currency (one Guyanese dollar is worth less than one New Zealand cent). (The guy pictured below could afford glasses thanks to his golden smile (sponsored by Nike); He was a lot happier to see me than I was to see the swoosh between his teeth.)

We saw about 250 patients that week (mostly women and girls) split pretty evenly between the graduating student and myself.

Accommodation in Bartica is basic in the most picturesque ways.

Either Guyana have worked out how to produce ‘mango nuggets’ or my hands have grown huge – its hard to tell from the photo below, isn’t it .?.!.?.

It’s hard to be impressed with beaches around the world when you’ve lived in Australia (& NZ) – the Bartican ‘beach’ was amongst the most unimpressive.

I was torn between hiding from the rain (like all the locals) and sneaking a look at the soggy sights on the boat ride back to Georgetown.

The Weekend Days :: Exploring Georgetown

I spent most of my weekend days wandering the wide shady streets of Georgetown.

I also spent some non-work time having a recurrent ear infection looked into.

Below is the wall that keeps the ocean out of the city which is built beneath sea level.

The other water feature of note in Georgetown is the long floating bridge – which closes at low tide each day.

It was good to be in country that valued cricket highly enough to put it on the front of their daily devotional booklet.

Week 2 :: Georgetown & Suddie

In the second week I travelled to several different locations to observe and assist recent graduands in their permanent clinics.

The first clinic I visited was in the Georgetown public hospital.

I am sure the above offer doesn’t include recreational drugs (though you might have them on a technicality).

Another speed boat was required to get me to Suddie where I spent most of the second week with a new eye specialist who was working out of the little rural hospital there.

The graduand that I was coaching here was in the later stages of her first pregnancy; As such, in addition to offering her a little advice, I was also able to provide cover for her while she attended medical appointments and had her final ultrasound.

(Again) the accommodation here was beautifully simple.

The ocean is brown for as far as the eye can see from the shoreline. (Oddly, Guyana is included as one of the Caribbean nations despite having no coastline that borders the Caribbean Sea, probably because it was part of the old British Empire.)

Come the end of the second week I was back on the boat in order to return to Georgetown in time for a debriefing session with Charles (Director of Eyecare Guyana) and Petra (who has done an enormous amount of work in setting up the training program).

The very last thing I did in Georgetown was to visit the local university’s campus.

Eyecare Guyana currently has a proposal before the local university to establish a new school of optometry that will offer a four year long degree in optometry to its students.

Once the proposal is formally approved by the university, Eyecare Guyana will require the services of at least two more optometrists to establish the school and teach the courses. These teaching/administrative positions represent the best opportunities I have turned up in my travels to do something significant in the region. The task is an order of magnitude (or two) larger than what I was preparing myself for (I was considering committing myself to a year or two assisting with an established program), and is therefore both more significant and costly than I had anticipated. I am still considering whether I am prepared to make the necessary social and financial sacrifices. So please be praying for me as I continue to think through these issues. I won't need to decide anything until early next year when the positions are actually advertised.

Act 18 | Barbados

2009-09-12T15:39:00.000-07:00

In the original plan I was in Barbados so as to rest up in between demanding volunteering stints; As it turned out, I was over rested in Saint Lucia, which was a very good thing, because Kel and his best mate Baldwyn were keen to show me Barbados by the dark of night rather than the light of day (once I'd convinced them that I was really only white on the outside).

The bar below is one that the international cricketers drink at when playing at Barbados (usually against the West Indies); I ordered 'whatever Steve Waugh ordered when he was here' from the barmaid (who couldn't remember what that was).

It’s a real test of your manhood to see if you can drink the local rum straight.

Kel had organised for his family and I to stay at Baldwyn's home: Three families - three bedrooms; being single finally paid off as a family-per-bedroom approach was adopted for apportioning the rooms.

I very much enjoyed talking Caribbean economics & social dynamics with Ro, Church & sports with Kel, and dribble with Josh (and Baldwyn).

Barbados is the most developed of the West Indian islands.

In every developed country there is room for further development.

Barbados attracted more British immigrants (in search of greener pastures) than the other Islands who now despise Barbados for being elitist and for their hard to understand British accents. (It took me a few days to pick up on the fact that what they were describing was the British cockney influence (rather than a 'proper' English accent).)

I had just enough time to see and eat some of the Barbados sights like:

a beautiful beach;

a flying fish sandwich;

& the wild West Coast

(where I put my toes in the Atlantic Ocean).

I must send out a huge public thank you to Baldwyn, Suzanne, & Nathan, who took me into their home on naught more than Kel's recommendation (an act of foolish love if ever there was one), and drove me all the way to the West Coast before my departing flight.

Act 17 | Saint Lucia

2009-09-08T11:53:00.000-07:00

Saint Lucia became yet another destination where the volunteer eye work I had lined up failed to eventuate; which was partly because the eye team from Cuba are doing such a fine job of providing public eye care on the island.

I decided to follow the advice that advises one to join ’em if you can’t beat ’em; As such, I spent a day with the large Cuban team that works out of the local hospital.

I also spent a morning with the (rather glamorous) Cuban doctor duo that head out to different parts of the island each day screening the general population for problems that they then send to the team at the hospital.

Staff members of the Saint Lucia Blind Welfare Association (BWA) took the time to talk to me about the significant role they play in providing eye care on the island.

I joined the team from the BWA who were staffing an information stall at a health fair (which was an initiative of the Ministry of Health and the local Methodist Church which hosted the fair).

While in St Lucia I spent a little time with the George family; Tony (who I knew through church and soccer) had just returned from Dunedin after submitting his PhD (on 'grassroot' approaches to reducing poverty) and was busy rebuilding a St Lucian life for his family.

I was there when Tony and his wife Esther bought their new car.

I was around to help them to shift house (that’s the youngest of their two sons, Joce, who was supervising my every move).

Caleb, their first born, & I had a great time limin' down at the beach (which is literally across the road from the airport).

I managed to land an invitation to a one year old's birthday party. (She had one of the biggest birthday cakes I have ever seen; I'd love to see the cake she gets next year.)

During my two week stay I helped Barbara to get the guest house she was in the process of establishing, set up and ready for Westerners (who have Western needs (like A/C & hot water (even in ridiculously warm climates))).

Barbara prepared most of the food I enjoyed while in St Lucia; I also learned to love eating ice (as a way of dealing with the tropical heat).

Staying with Barbara connected me to her large extended family, who all live within a stone's throw; Her recently retired brother kindly took me to see the sights down south, including the world's only drive through volcanoe.

On the same journey we saw the spectacular Pitons.

Most of the people I met in St Lucia had some connection to Tony's local church (which is easily the whitest 'black church' I have attended).

Lurline went out of her way to help me salvage some good experiences out of a fortnight of frustrations.

Bad weather and a large number of botched plans meant that I ended up with quite a lot of down time in St Lucia, which did give me the opportunity to resuscitate a couple of projects that were in danger of being abandoned.

One of those projects was the travel blog that you are now enjoying; Before the St Lucian leg I was two full months behind the action and starting to wonder if there was going to be time to catch up while on the road. (Barbara's sister who lived over the road was kind enough to allow me to access her internet which I could only reach from the window of my guest house).

I was also able to spend much time advancing my desire to read the bible in its entirely while travelling this year, I'm now in a position where only a disaster (like losing both eyes) can stop me from achieving that goal.

St Lucia was therefore a lazy little fortnight-long 'intermission' in the middle of long stint of travel.

Act 16 | Saint Vincent & the Grenadines

2009-08-23T11:52:00.000-07:00

I was in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG) in order to visit Kelron Harry, my fellow striker from the Dunedin soccer team we played in last year, and to run a free optometry clinic out of the church that he leads. (It was exciting being together again.)

Kel's family were willing to have me under their roof while I was in town, which gave me another golden opportunity to soak up some good family vibes.

Joshua, who has a thousand dollar smile and way too much energy for any one day, is the Harry's first born son and only child.

There is quite a lot involved in running an eye clinic and the members of the church, who hadn’t done anything like this before, did a wonderful job in setting up the church hall and letting members of the poor community in which their church is located know about the clinic.

Ro-Anne (seated in the above picture), Kel’s wife, did an enormous amount of work before I arrived sorting out legalities with the Ministry of Health and organising support from local charitable organisations so that we were able to offer spectacles at no cost to the patients I saw: She is one very capable and compassionate individual (who is currently working on a PhD investigating issues related to child poverty in the Caribbean with the University of Otago).

I trained a number of church members to measure vision and take basic patient details; These people were also charged with keeping the peace and the numbering system in place in the rather warm waiting room.

Another key player in the project was Dr Onu (a local ophthalmologist), meeting him for the first time was a lot like meeting Morpheus from The Matrix Trilogy; except that instead of offering me a red or blue pill, he offered to supply me with the equipment I needed to examine patients and to see the patients (at no cost) that needed the extra attention of an eye doctor (also at no charge); We simply couldn't have achieved what we did without his generous input.

Over the course of four days on consultations I managed to see a little over 150 patients.

The local paper considered what we were doing as newsworthy.

A long hot night was spent at the end of the working week searching through box after box of old spectacles, looking for what we were looking for; We managed to match 70 prescriptions to donated spectacles (which was a mighty fine effort given the poor quality of most of the frames & lenses, and the poor labelling system used for the boxes).

Funds were raised to buy a selection of new glasses for the unmatchable prescriptions; All together, 120 pairs of glasses were issued free of charge to those who had need of them, which I call 'worthwhile work' and 'a big success'.

St Vincent was not all work and no play …

Dominoes is a adults game in the Caribbean, played mostly by men when limin' with one another. (I was so tired this night that I didn’t realise I was playing with a partner until several rounds had been played, or that the guys were actually speaking a language that I couldn't have understood even if I was less tired.)

There was time on the weekend for Kel and I to combine forces on the soccer field again and win the soccer competition at the family fun day run by the local power company.

And there was time outside of office hours to float around the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea.

Kingstown is the capital of St Vincent, boasting some 30000 people; It has a very small town feel as everybody seems to know each other (and their sordid histories).

I did managed to escape Kingstown & chalk up some time in the Grenadines by spending an afternoon on the nearby island of Bequia.

The ride there and back was a rockin' affair.

Swimming with kids is so much more fun than swimming without kids.

There was even time in St Vincent to hang out with one of the local celebrities, Chris is the morning radio host of the popular talk back program “what does get me vexed”.

'Vexed', and all its derivatives, are some of my favourite words, it was good to be in a place where they are well used; Other words/phrases that I like which are given more air time in the Caribbean include 'mashed up' & 'foolish/ness'. (I also grew to love the word 'lime', which means 'to hang out'.)

Carib's are also big on titles, during my week in St Vincent I was variously referred to as:

Uncle luke;

Doctor luke;

and Brother luke;

None of which are strictly true,

but all of which are very nice.

Saying goodbye to the Harry family - who I had very quickly grown very fond of - was made very much easier by the plans we had made to reconnect in Barbados in a few weeks time.