Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2012-11

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IN THIS ISSUE

• Lyle Meeres concludes his description of their Caribbean cruise
• We get letters from Norma Patterson and Shelley Klammer
• Kate Brookfield begins an interrupted story about a sabbatical year
• Verda Cook sends Irish stories for St. Patrick´s Day
• Here too are some Irish proverbs and an Irish blessing
• Sites are suggested by Bruce Galway, Carol Hansen, Catherine Green, Catherine Nesbitt, and Gerrit deLeeuw

Lyle Meeres concludes his story of their

SOUTH CARIBBEAN CRUISE

It was already February 5th and hard to believe that we would be home in a week. We were at Granada, which was the most attractive port so far - at least as seen from our room. Donna had a family connection there, so we planned on our own tour of Granada and some beach time.

We left the ship and met Jean, Donna´s relative. She drove through part of St. George and up into the hills, where we saw nutmeg trees, breadfruit trees, and others. She stopped at some viewpoints, and eventually came down into a wealthy area where houses had one side facing the water. In times of turmoil or revolution, those houses were abandoned, left for realtors to get whatever they could. Jean pointed out one that sold for $40,000. Today it would be worth at least twenty times that. The roads Jean drove were steep, narrow, and twisty.

We picked up roti at an Indian food place and ate at Jean´s house. The house was being fought over in the courts because an old law said that rent could not be raised, and the landlord was doing things like removing doors in an attempt to force out his tenants. If he had new tenants, he could raise the rent. After lunch Jean took us to the best beach.

Back on our ship, dinner was good. We sat with two couples from New York who oozed money. They´d been everywhere, done everything, but their comments on the Galapagos were intriguing, especially for Pat, since that is her dream trip. The two men argued over whether New York was good or bad to visit and to live in. Pat and I skipped that night´s show, which was too bad because the entertainment had been good.

The next day, a day at sea, was Superbowl day, so Americans were thinking football. We caught part of a talk on volcanoes and tectonic plates and then a session on excursions. Donna and Paulette bought tickets for three; Pat and I chose one, a walking tour on Curacao.

Once again we saw the a cappella singers and once again they were terrific. We also enjoyed a string quartet.

Oranjestad, Aruba from the ship (click to enlarge image)

The cruise ship docked at Aruba (click to enlarge image)

February 7th dawned at Oranjestad, Aruba. Pat and I had spent the night coughing each other awake, so we loafed until after 10:00, when we went out and walked through the first set of duty-free shops and into the downtown. It was a hot day. We walked until we were well roasted, had lunch, bought a few items, and went back to the ship to read for a while. Again we missed the evening show.

We were up early for our UNESCO walking tour of Willemstad, Curacao. The woman conducting the tour had a vast store of knowledge and a good sense of humour, so we enjoyed our walk. Colourful buildings added a visual element to the history that was basic in the talk. The island has changed hands several times, but as the guide said, "The Dutch were persistent."

One story about the reason for the colourful buildings is that the governor complained that all the white buildings gave him migraine headaches, so he ordered the buildings painted pastel colours. Two fellow walkers told us that later people learned that the governor´s wife owned the local paint store. After this discovery, the law was changed to prevent conflict of interest - governors could not own businesses. The colourful buildings and all the red tile roofs do make the area a World Heritage Site.

The Santa Anna Bay has two major districts, the Punda with shops on one side, and the Otro banda with private homes on the other. There is a long pedestrian bridge connecting the two; the bridge opens if a ship needs through. Staff raise an orange flag if the time for opening is expected to be brief, and a deep blue flag if the time is expected to be long.

Willemstad,Curacao (click to enlarge image)

We went into one old fort that has to be renewed often because the ´stones´ are coral, with a high salt content that breaks down. I´m surprised that coral, which is often seen as threatened, would be used for construction. Inside the fort were shops. Regulations control the height of buildings, which have a maximum of three floors. After we crossed the bridge, we entered a second fort, which did not look fort-like. We also walked near a synagogue that was not what it looked like: the outside was renovated - but inside it is now offices. Perhaps money is worshipped?

Floating Market (click to enlarge)

Further on we came to the floating market. The stalls are not floating; the boats are docked right behind the stalls. The effect of stall after stall with a variety of fruit, vegetables, and flowers is quite colourful, but the end stalls may be seen as unappealing because of all the fish - lots and lots of fish.

We crossed a small bridge to get to the Maritime Museum, where our guide left us. After looking around we walked to a pharmacy which was old style, with almost everything behind counters. We had to ask for cough drops, which were expensive; my change was in local currency, which I used later as a tip.

Then we walked to an open-air coffee and bar place, where we had iced tea for $9.40 U.S. It´s an expensive but interesting island. Back on the ship I tried a cough drop and found out that it was not very effective. That night Pat went to the stage performance.

We arrived at Bonaire on February 9th. It´s a cliche around here, but it was hard to believe that this was our last stop. After this it was two days at sea and then the flight home. We were not sure what we would find on Bonaire - it´s basically a great spot for divers, which we are not.

Consequently we chose to walk. There are lots of booths and shops selling tourist items; after a while many become repetitive. Pat´s ankle was swollen so we returned to the ship, relaxed, and went for lunch.

It seems to me this island is included to complete an easy tour in which many stops are near to one another, but then we didn´t get out into the flat-looking countryside, so perhaps I´m being unfair. I heard a diver say that the beaches were not much, but licence plates say "Divers Paradise," so there is underwater compensation for divers. We did buy two CDs of Caribbean music for our son´s and daughter´s families.

In the afternoon I had two bad nosebleeds due to my tender nose. I didn´t go to dinner. Pat brought me ice cream and bananas. You could get any food virtually any time on board.

At sea the next day we looked out at six-foot waves and whitecaps. We did go to hear the science fellow speaking. He was good plus he was funny. In one segment he said, "So the new theory on the extinction of dinosaurs is that it was caused by reptile dysfunction. They didn´t have access to those pills. How many of you ... oh, look! It´s worse than I thought. They can´t even get their hands up."

At 2:00 we had a visit to the bridge, arranged by our tour guides. It was interesting to see, but I also became aware that many of the crew were coughing too. The ship had hand wipes and hand-cleansing liquids in many locations, but with so many people in a relatively small space, it was no wonder that the virus had spread.

At 3:00 we went to a session on "West Side Story." It was insightful and I know it expanded my appreciation. Again, the speaker was very effective. Pat went to the evening show.

The next day was also at sea. At breakfast, we ate with people who were amazingly well travelled. Some of them seemed to me to be spoiled. It was an eye-opener to listen to what some of them complained about: "On the Azamara, I got coffee right away when I ordered it;" "Room service here doesn´t provide tomato juice." Some of these people said that they had been on 32 and 92 cruises. They did not get off at ports because they had been there so often.

We spent much of the morning sorting and tossing things, and packing. We skipped the evening performance and set the alarm clock for 6:30.

At least five cruise ships were in port at Ft. Lauderdale, so debarkation was a wild scene, but tour guides directed us. At the airport we went through the security checks and waited for our slightly-late plane. In Toronto we had to pick up our luggage, go through minor security checks, and put our bags on a connections flight conveyer belt. On the flight we adjusted our watches and heard that it was 5C above in Calgary. We were home about midnight.

The next morning, Sunday, I found one walk-in clinic open and received an antibiotic for my "severe chest infection." Later the virus infected my ear and I lost hearing in the left ear for months. Now I appreciate good health.

It´s time for me to join the complainers: If I had it to do over again, I would not cruise the South Caribbean. I would pick one or two stops and stay there for a week or two. My favourites would be St. Lucia and Curacao. On the cruise, five days were at sea and one stop struck me as a waste of time. If you love a big ship on the ocean or you are a diver, you probably disagree. I like to spend three or more days at a location because I feel that I get a better sense of life there.

CORRESPONDENCE

Norma Patterson writes: I just went back to last week´s newsletter to re-read Dixie Augusteijn´s letter. I can relate to everything she talks about! And my nose works overtime: I can smell the earth when we opened the cellar door (trap, we called it.) And I was never too brave going down those steps to fetch a bottle of jam! The only thing she didn´t mention was cod fish. We had that on Friday. Not one of my favourites, but living on the coast, we had to eat fish!

They were good times really, and I am glad I experienced that life.

Shelley Klammer, for whom I did the interview on volunteering, reads to veterans as part of her work at George Derby Centre. She writes: I am using the story of farm life for my book club, and as well I am sending it to my 96-year-old grandmother. It is her birthday today and I think she will really enjoy it!

ED. NOTE: I am sure Dixie will be delighted that her story of life on an Ontario farm is still being read and enjoyed.

In 2001 Kate Brookfield started this account of their sabbatical year in India, but things got busy and she never completed it. So she begins again on her story about that year in

INDIA, 1984-1985

It was a big decision for us all to up sticks and take off to India for a year. My husband had been studying the geology of the Himalayas for some time, taking trips to India in the summer months. But for the whole family to go for a year took a bit more planning. Our two children were 11 and 13, so old enough for me not to worry too much about disease and sickness.

Preparing to leave for a year takes a lot of planning. Guess who had to do most of that? We had three cats to consider. What would happen to them? We had moved to this house in the country only three years earlier with great plans for renovation. Although Mike had worked almost every free moment since buying the house, it was not yet the dream home. He had built a lovely sunroom on the front; we finally had a solid oak door on which to place the large brass lion´s head door-knocker that I had purchased in England. I had decorated the inside and restored the garden, but there was still a lot to do. Finding suitable tenants would not be easy. Students at the university are a good source of house sitters, but they like to be close to campus. The last time we took a sabbatical year, we lived near to the university, where it was easy to find tenants from visiting faculty or students, but this house was too far out of town.

I was debating whether it would be better to wait a year or two. But a sabbatical year only comes up once every seven years. If Mike didn´t take the year off for research, he would have to wait another seven years. Mike had been offered the opportunity to work with a colleague at Panjab University, Chandigarh, in India´s northern Punjab State. Panjab University had offered us a house for visiting faculty. He wanted us to be with him. In my heart, I knew he was going whether we went him with or not. I wanted to go, but did not want it to be a traumatic experience for a young teenager. Our decision could have long repercussion on our daughter´s life. It would be my first visit to India and I was unsure about the health risks.

Our 13-year-old son, Robert, was philosophical about the opportunity to travel and had accepted the idea, but Caroline would burst into tears whenever we broached the subject. She was determined that she was not going.

The final decision, however, was made by consulting Tarot cards. Not that we knew much about reading the cards. Caroline was adamant that she did not want to go to India. She was afraid her friends would forget her if she was away for a whole year. She was going to miss Grade 7 in Canada.

The Tarot card decision was the inspiration of my friend who was visiting and witnessed our daughter´s distress. Caroline had just bought a set of cards as part of a new interest in astrology. I was shocked when I heard Paula say to Caroline, "Let´s see if the cards tell us whether you should go to India or not." I don´t think Paula had much idea about Tarot cards, but she knew more than me. So it was that we sat down and looked at the cards.

Paula was very inventive with her interpretation of the chosen cards and the end result was positive. The cards told us that the trip to India would be an experience not to miss. It would not be without sacrifice and it would not be smooth sailing all the way, but we would come home safely. She was also made to see that the trip would bring new friends and she could keep in touch with her Canadian friends with letters. (No e-mail or Skype in 1984!) If there is an award for friends who help in time of need, Paula deserves the top award for 1984.

A neighbour offered to take care of Jennie, the older cat. I found new owners for the other two cats, Enoch and Snowflake. They were siblings that we had adopted as pure white kittens after Jennie disappeared one summer. But Jennie came back, only weeks after the adoption. We put the house up for sale and sold it in a week to a young family with great plans and plenty of energy. All our furniture was packed up and put into storage and before I could say, "Let´s re- check the Tarot cards," I was on my way to Britain.

It was early June, 1984, when I left Toronto for Glasgow, leaving my husband to see to the final stages of handing over the house and seeing all our goods and chattels off to storage. I left a few days before Mike and the children in order to visit my 80-year-old mother in the north of England. I drove from Glasgow to my in-law´s in southern Scotland. This gave me opportunity to catch up on the lost sleep and to say goodbye to them.

My father-in-law was not at all happy with his son taking his family to India. He was full of doom and gloom about the proposed trip. After receiving lots of dire warnings, I left the next day and drove across country to the north-east coast. Driving through the beautiful scenery of the northern Dales in springtime, I too wondered if I would prefer to stay in Britain with the children. Perhaps I would not see my mother again. A lot can happen in a year. The Tarot cards were not at hand.

I arrived at my Mum´s house about 3.00 a.m. I was relaxing with the usual cup of tea and chatting to my mother when the phone rang. It was Mike from Gatwick airport. He and the children had just arrived and he was telling me that I had to leave the kids in Britain. We didn´t have Russian visas for them and they could not go to Russia. Our travel plans included an Intourist holiday in Russia. The school year in India starts in July and our children were not happy at missing their long summer holiday. The two-week package tour to Leningrad, the Black Sea, and Moscow promised excitement that included fun at the beach in Crimea. Instead of returning to Britain, we would leave the tour in Moscow and continue on to New Delhi.

While I was listening to Mike telling me that the Russian Embassy in Canada had not stamped our kids´ brand-new Canadian passports with a visa, my sister from Harrogate came in. She was looking anxious and trying to speak to me. Who said trouble doesn´t come singly? I was telling Mike that I still had the children on my British passport, which was stamped with a visa. He was saying that the Russian Embassy are adamant that everybody, even infants, must have their own visa for Russia. In my other ear, my sister was saying things like, "You are not going to India!" "Haven´t you heard the news?" "India is in chaos" "You are mad!" I literally did not know if I was coming or going. I got Mike´s hotel phone number and told him I would phone him back.

Having got rid of one complaint in one ear, I could turn the other ear to my concerned sister. She was telling me that Mrs. Gandhi had stormed the Golden Temple in the Punjab. Because she blamed Canada and Britain for harbouring dissidents, Mrs. Gandhi had decreed that anyone visiting India from those countries must now have a visa to enter India.

Who needs Tarot cards in a real emergency? I had made up my mind that we were going to India and neither the Russian Embassy, Mrs. Gandhi, my in-laws nor sister were going to stop me now. My mother said nothing. Her tranquil world had suddenly been hit with a hurricane of problems, but she remained calm and made another pot of tea.

To be continued.

Verda Cook sends these

IRISH JOKES

Two Dublin mechanical engineers, Patrick and Seamus, were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking up. A woman walked by and asked what they were doing.

"We´re supposed to find the height of the flagpole," said Patrick, "but we don´t have a ladder."

The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement, announced, "Five metres," and walked away.

Seamus shook his head and laughed. "Ain´t that just like a woman! We ask for the height and she gives us the length!"

Two drunks coming home, stumbled up the country road in the dark.

"Faith, Mike, we´ve stumbled into the graveyard and here´s the stone of a man who lived to the age of 103!"

"Glory be, Patrick, and was it anybody we knew?"

"No.´Twas someone named Miles from Dublin."

And with another tip of the hat to St. Patrick´s day, here are some

IRISH PROVERBS

A kind word never broke anyone´s mouth.

A dog owns nothing, yet is seldom dissatisfied.

It is better to be born lucky than rich.

A lie travels farther than the truth.

An old broom knows the dirty corners best.

Put silk on a goat, and it´s still a goat.

A friend´s eye is a good mirror.

It´s no use carrying an umbrella if your shoes are leaking.

Even a small thorn causes festering.

Marriages are all happy; it´s having breakfast together that causes all the trouble.

Every dog is brave on his own doorstep.

You´ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.

Drink is the curse of the land. It makes you fight with your neighbour. It makes you shoot at your landlord, and it makes you miss him.

You´ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your grandfather was.

And to top it all off, here is an

IRISH BLESSING

May the most you wish for
Be the least you get;
May your pockets be heavy and your heart be light;
May good luck pursue you each morning and night.

May you always have work for your hands to do;
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane;
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
May the hand of a friend always be near you.

May the road rise to meet you;
May the wind be always at your back;
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway forwards this link to a video of the wild oceans that batter Cape Horn, at the southern tip of the South American continent:

Carol Hansen sends this link to a little girl reacting to a cat; she is a fast learner, and the cat is very patient:

Catherine Green reminds us of the seven woman who were critical to the rescue of a herd of horses stranded on a small island. One woman risked her life cutting fence in neck-high water and contacting authorities. Then there were the six women (ages 19-40) who rode that day and were honored by their government for their bravery and courage for riding into frigid flood waters that had hidden ditches, strewn with broken fencing and other hazards.

Catherine Nesbitt sends the URL for a visual history of the timeless British slogan, Keep calm and carry on:

Gerrit deLeeuw suggests this site for before and after pictures of the disastrous tsunami that hit Japan last year, killing over 15,000 people:

In response to the devastating earthquake and resulting tsunami in Japan on March 11th, Students Rebuild partnered with DoSomething.org´s "Paper Cranes for Japan" campaign to inspire young people worldwide to support their Japanese peers. They issued a simple challenge to young people online: Make and mail a paper crane, and trigger funding for recovery and reconstruction from the Bezos Family Foundation. The goal was 100,000 cranes, which would trigger $200,000 to fund Architecture for Humanity´s reconstruction efforts in the devastated Tohoku region of Japan. The response - an incredible two million cranes from young people in 38 countries worldwide and all 50 U.S. States - exceeded their wildest hopes:

Top climate scientist James Hansen tells the story of his involvement in the science of and debate over global climate change. In doing so he outlines the overwhelming evidence that change is happening and why that makes him deeply worried about the future.

To check out the features of the "freedictionary", which changes daily, go to