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IN THIS ISSUE

• Carolyn Harris concludes her story of a visit to Cuba
• Jean Sterling writes about a brief visit to Ontario
• Michael Brookfield tells about a perilous expedition
• Anne Rahamout writes about her clothesline
• Jack Peaker forwards a story about an Ogopogo sighting
• Rafiki sends a story about an old prospector
• Gerrit de Leeuw´s story is about a smart comeback
• Shirley Conlon and Geoff Goodship recommend sites

Carolyn Harris resumes her story of a visit to Cuba. She had just told of their search for running lights for their boat:

A TALE OF TWO TOWNS

As we wandered down the block looking for our street number, children played around us. People waved from their homes, wooden shutters flung open for the warm evening breeze. Ramon and Julia, our new friends, both worked so we didn´t want to arrive too early, but we didn´t know where else to go. We knocked on the door and Julia´s red- haired mother, Lily, let us in. She instructed us to sit on the bed next to the kitchen table, handed us a small newspaper about the Youthful Heroes: Fidel, Che, and some others I didn´t recognize, then disappeared back into her bedroom.

We´d offered to bring part of the dinner, but were told in Cuba that would be an insult. Only one woman prepares the meal. That night it would be Ramon´s wife. Even his mother-in-law and wife did not share the kitchen. Kitchen sharing could lead to big problems with Cuban women. Ramon did reluctantly allow us to bring some white Zinfandel from the Napa Valley, which we told him was very famous for its wines. We didn´t tell him we usually bought it for $3.99 a bottle.

They´d invited us for Tuesday dinner. When I´d suggested Monday would be better as we needed to sail east while the weather held, he´d apologized and said, "We have no food in the house on Monday."

Julia sliced tomatoes and fried potatoes and barracuda in a deep fryer while Ramon showed off their propane refrigerator, a gift from a friend in the United States, and their new two-burner hot plate.

Julia whispered to Ramon. He stepped into the small side yard and fiddled with a pump until water filled a small cistern. He dropped a chlorine tablet in the fresh water and said, "Don´t worry about our water." Ramon showed us around the two-bedroom house which Lily owned. Their bathroom had a tub and a toilet without a seat. I was checking for toilet seats as the only ones we´d seen so far were in the fancy hotels.

At dinner, I was given the seat of honour, a chair with a wicker bottom. The other three chairs had only frames with a hole in the center where the wicker had long since disappeared. Dayna, their young daughter, joined us and Julia served three plates of food. Ramon poured us each a glass of water, then put the precious Napa Valley wine in the refrigerator for dessert - to share with a surprise especially for us. We waited for everyone to sit down so we could begin. Julia finally laughed and said, "You need to eat first so we can use your plates."

I was reluctant to eat barracuda. It seemed to be the official welcoming committee in Cuban waters. They´re up to six feet long and very intimidating, with piercing black eyes and toothy sneers. This barracuda tasted good. All fish belong to the Cuban government. This one had been obtained on the black market from the captain of a commercial vessel in the Port of Cardenas. Later that evening, that captain and two others showed up with our surprise, a six pack of Cristal, one of their better-tasting beers. A six pack costs about one week´s Cuban salary. It was really an honor.

Ramon, a top official with La Guarda Frontera, similar to our Coast Guard, makes US$14.25 per month. Julia works full time at the post office. Lily provides the house they otherwise couldn´t afford. Ramon showed us the government-issued bread. Cubans are each entitled to one roll per day He poked his finger into the spongy roll. It bounced back into shape.

That night, we wandered through the dreary streets with Ramon. The town was dark except for dim lighting inside the run-down, paint- peeling homes. Shutters and doors were opened to encourage the slight breeze. People lay on blankets or pillows beyond the open doorways. Honey pots lined the curbs for the nightly pickup by the horse-drawn slop wagon. Ramon spoke quietly to the driver of a work bus parked under a tree. The driver nodded. We would ride with the hotel night workers to the hotel nearest our mooring.

Back in Veradera, we stood to follow the last worker off the bus, wondering why we hadn´t remembered a flashlight. The driver motioned us to wait, then drove us down the dark road to our boat.

We met Ramon and Julia the next evening at a small restaurant he had picked for us in Veradera. "This is only the second time in my life I´ve eaten in a restaurant and the first time for Julia," he said. He knew the waiter and bartender. Soon the restaurant workers stopped by our table to meet the "Americanos". He had found the "least expensive restaurant" but felt he needed to apologize for the prices. He looked around the open porch. "These people are all tourists," he said. "Cubans can´t afford to eat here." A cat scurried under a nearby table. "That cat´s hungry." He gestured to the lean tabby. "Cubans like cats, but we can´t afford pets when we can´t feed ourselves."

We ate the "too expensive" ice cream, Julia´s first taste of ice cream, then walked back past a well-lit hotel, listening to the tourists applaud the evening show. Ramon glanced over. "I wouldn´t be welcome in a nice hotel, even in my uniform." He shrugged. We walked without speaking toward the cement tunnel. Ramon was worried. He had a pass for the bus, but Julia didn´t.

When it was time to part, Julia hugged me and Dave and Ramon shook hands. Then Dave and I walked back to the four-star hotel to catch a cab.

Jean Sterling writes about

A FEW DAYS IN CANADA

My husband and I recently spent a few days in Niagara Falls and Niagara on the Lake. As we always do, we had a wonderful time in Canada. John commented while we were there that "Canadians are very polite people." And this time there was no heat alert in Toronto - we had been there for Toronto´s first-ever heat alert a few years ago.

We stayed in a motel on River Road, which runs along the Niagara River, a couple of miles from the falls. This was also convenient to Niagara on the Lake, which was about ten miles away. I loved getting up in the morning and walking along the beautiful pathway that runs beside River Road.

The Rainbow

There was a free shuttle (a service provided by the casinos) from the motel to Niagara Falls. The fellow at the front desk told us to ask the driver to let us off at the casino closest to the falls, which proved to be Casino Niagara. We walked around the outside of the casino to where we could see the American Falls and the Rainbow Bridge. It turned out to be a fair hike down to the Canadian Horseshoe Falls, which are much more spectacular. This is the third time I have been to Niagara Falls, and the beauty and power of Niagara never ceases to amaze me. An added treat this time was a lovely rainbow in the mist that rose from the falls. Instead of the legendary pot of gold, this rainbow had the Maid of the Mist at its end.

Rainbow Bridge

We had dinner at a restaurant that overlooks Horseshoe Falls. It was a bit pricey, but the view was SPECTACULAR, and the food was wonderful. After this superb meal we admired the falls again and then wended our way back toward the Casino Niagara to catch the shuttle back to our motel. Feeling a bit lazy, we decided to walk through the casino instead of around it. This was a very interesting experience. It was like being in another world - one of flashing lights and electronic noises. There were no clocks and we couldn´t find the exit. We wandered around for quite a while and finally found the well- hidden exit off to the side. Funny thing was that nobody in the casino looked happy - it all appeared very serious. Guess they all were losing?

Aero Car Over Whirlpool

The following day my husband went on the aero car (I chickened out) that goes out over the whirlpool, and we stopped at the horticultural gardens and the flower clock.

We also saw two shows at the Shaw Festival in Niagara on the Lake - "Wonderful Town" and "Mrs. Warner´s Profession". I had seen "Wonderful Town" on Broadway many years ago - my HS senior class saw it - so it was a treat to see it again. We enjoyed being in Niagara on the Lake, which is a most picturesque town with lovely plantings along their main street.

ED. NOTE: To see some of Jean´s pictures of this trip, go to

http://members.shaw.ca/vjsansum/ or

http://www.scn.org/seniors/stories.html

While Kate Brookfield was visiting in Canada, her husband, Michael, who is a geologist, went on a research expedition in India. Here is his account of his trip to

KASHMIR

I and Greg Schellnutt (a post-doc here) got to Kashmir and stayed in a hotel and houseboat in Srinagar in mid-June - and were turfed out early from the houseboat (I think they had better-paying prospects) and had to go and stay with our Moslem colleague in his house nearby.

We went on to the Amarnath Hindu Pahlgam pilgrimage area (hordes of Hindus visiting the ice lingam for religious purposes) and did some work in the mountains (in one place well-known for insurgent activity - though at the time it was supposed to be safe).

Then we went to near the Pakistan/India cease-fire line in the mountains to the west (Gulmarg). It was there that all hell broke loose.

The Kashmir government had donated land to the Hindu Amarnath pilgrimage committee (very stupidly) and the dominant (95%) Moslems of Kashmir got upset. They started a 24-hour general strike for one week with noisy demonstrations - police shot dead 12 demonstrators - and roadblocks. We were caught in our jeep in one roadblock and so we got out, sat down with the blockaders (a bit unwisely) and talked to them. Most were for letting us go through but a few weren´t.

One religious student (an agitator, I think) jumped into the jeep, told the driver and me to get in (we were separated from the others) and then drove like hell through the roadblock - where we were pelted with large rocks and the jeep was badly damaged (broken windscreen, headlamps, etc). The idiot then jumped out and our driver, a Hindu, took over and drove as fast as he could up the road, leaving the other three with the blockaders. We were anticipating being dragged out of the jeep and beaten up or killed.

After about one kilometre we came across an army group, and the captain summoned up his armoured car and set off to see what had happened to the others. Fortunately, they were safe. I think the blockaders were wondering what would happen to them if they harmed foreigners - maybe some blasts from the armoured car´s machine gun.

After that we proceeded for about 10 km before another roadblock stopped us and more Moslem crazies tried to drag us out of the jeep, but we resisted. Fortunately, they were rather half-hearted.

And so back to the relative safety of the mountains, where we stayed for three days before driving back to our colleague´s house near Srinagar at 3.00 a.m. We stayed there another three days before driving south at night to Jammu (the Hindu part). We were met by Hindu crazies and roadblocks protesting the actions of the Moslems - they were stoning anyone they thought Moslem. The damage we had from the Moslems (and our Hindu driver) got us through the Hindu roadblocks.

There was a total curfew in Jammu for the next five days because of the Hindu violence and we had to stay in the University guest house. This was Greg´s first trip to India and I think it made quite an impression on him!

I unwisely sent my laundry off - and it never came back because of the curfew - so I was left with only one pair of trousers and about three shirts.

Next, we flew to the Buddhist peace of Ladakh, where we spent 10 days doing some decent field work, and staying in a nice peaceful guest house a 15-minute walk from the town. We drove over a 5.3-km-high pass to Nubra. At the pass I tried to speak but nothing but nonsense came out - lack of oxygen, I suppose.

From Ladakh, we flew straight back via Delhi to Taipei. We will not, of course, be going back to Kashmir in the foreseeable future! So what we did in Kashmir, which should be scientifically exciting, will not be able to be redone or checked for quite a while.

ED. NOTE: To see Mike´s pictures of this expedition, see

http://members.shaw.ca/vjsansum/ or

http://www.scn.org/seniors/stories.html

CORRESPONDENCE

Anne Rahamut writes about Rafiki´s article about clotheslines in last week´s issue: I grew up with all those clothesline rules. Our great- nephew stayed with us for seven weeks this summer and he washed one of his work uniforms every night, intending to dry it in the dryer. I suggested the clothesline.

My husband said, "You´ve got to see this." There was the young man out in the back yard, trying to figure out how to hang up his uniform jacket on the clothesline. Out I went and offered him Rafiki´s Rule No. 3. The only rule I can think of that was missed in the list was to hang the pillowcases open side up, to catch the wind. It was also a good way to hang "unmentionables," inside the pillow case.

Jack Peaker forwards this story:

WOMAN SHE BELIEVES SHE SAW THE LEGENDARY OGOPOGO

Don´t tell Robyn Holman that the mythical lake monster called the Ogopogo doesn´t exist.

Because Holman says the elusive beast made an appearance as she and a friend were travelling along the highway near Peachland, B.C., on Sunday afternoon. Holman says she noticed a wave in the water on Okanagan Lake and couldn´t believe her eyes when she turned to look.

Holman says she took a picture and is now waiting to get the photo developed. Whether it turns out or not, the Kelowna woman is now convinced that the legendary Ogopogo does exist.

The Ogopogo legend has been in existence for as long as settlers have been in B.C.

The first recorded sighting was in 1872, by Mrs. John Allison, and sightings have been recorded regularly ever since, although there is no solid evidence that the creature exists.

First Nations legends call the beast the N´ha-a-itk, or lake demon, according to local lore.

Similar to the monster of Loch Ness in Scotland, the Ogopogo is purportedly a serpent-like creature, somewhere between six and 15 metres long, with a horse-shaped head and a dark blue or brown body.

Rafiki just loves stories with happy endings:

THE OLD TIMER

An old prospector walked his tired old mule into a western town one day. He´d been out in the desert for about six months without a drop of whiskey.

He walked up to the first saloon he came to and tied his old mule to the hitching rail. As he stood there brushing some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young gunslinger walked out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

The young gunslinger looked at the old man and laughed, saying, "Hey old man, have you ever danced?"

The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, "No, I never did dance. I just never wanted to."

A crowd had gathered by then and the gunslinger said, "Well, you old fool, you´re gonna dance now," and started shooting at the old man´s feet.

The old prospector was hopping around and everybody was laughing. When the gunslinger fired his last bullet, he holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.

The old man reached up on the mule, drew his shotgun, and pulled both hammers back, making a double clicking sound. The gunslinger heard the sound and everything got quiet. The crowd watched as the gunslinger slowly turned around and looked down both barrels of the shotgun.

The old man asked, "Did you ever kiss a mule´s ass?"

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, "No. But I´ve always wanted to."

The lessons from this story are:

1. Don´t waste ammunition.

2. Don´t mess with old people.

Gerrit de Leeuw sends the story of

THE BEST COMEBACK

If you ever testify in court, you might wish you could have been as sharp as this policeman. He was being cross-examined by a defense attorney during a felony trial. The lawyer was trying to undermine the policeman"s credibility....

Q: "Officer - did you see my client fleeing the scene?"

A: "No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender running several blocks away."

Q: "Officer - who provided this description?"

A: "The officer who responded to the scene."

Q: "A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?"

A: "Yes, sir. With my life."

Q: "With your life? Let me ask you this then, officer. Do you have a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?"

A: "Yes sir, we do."

Q: "And do you have a locker in the room?"

A: "Yes sir, I do."

Q: "And do you have a lock on your locker?"

A: "Yes sir."

Q: "Now why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with your life, you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with these same officers?"

A: "You see, sir - we share the building with the court complex, and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room."

The courtroom erupted in laughter, and a prompt recess was called. The officer on the stand has been nominated for this year"s "Best Comeback" line - and we think he´ll win.

Shirley Conlon writes: If you have a minute, please watch the following video clip. It is a beautiful story of Johnny, the grocery store bagger. It is very short, but it will remind you of why and how we make an impact in what we do.

http://www.stservicemovie.com/

Geoff Goodship sends the URL for the winner of Cannes 2008 online short film competition:

http://e.zappinternet.com/video/nilSqaMboM/HISTORIA-DE-UN-LETRERO-THE-STORY

For the latest stories about urban agriculture, go to http://www.cityfarmer.info/

Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn´t mean politics won´t take an interest in you! - Pericles (430 B.C.)

Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn´t mean politics won´t take an interest in you! - Pericles (430 B.C.)