Seychelles Thanksgiving

Happy late Thanksgiving everybody!

Last week I got to work at the GVI Satellite Camp on Curieuse Island. Just off the much larger island of Praslin, (home of many resorts and picturesque beaches,) Curieuse is only occupied by a ranger station with a tortoise sanctuary, and one local family, and the Sat Camp. The island was a leper colony, and the ruins of their settlement are scattered around the island - it sounded like the setting for a gruesome horror movie, but was actually very quiet and wonderful. GVI has renovated one of the abandoned buildings with two bunkrooms, a kitchen (sort of,) and a great front porch where we ate and hung around in between projects. It's even more basic than the main camp - balky generator for about 4 hours a day if it's running, water that needs to be boiled, and the obligatory cold shower.

It sounds tough but I had a blast all week long. There were five of us, (Erika, Mike, Sarah, Vicki and me,) led by Luke the Aussie Staff Member and we took a ferry from Mahe to Praslin where Charlie who runs the camp picked us up in Dexter Crabtree, GVI's RIB. It's a short sail across the channel to Curieuse, and we were settled into the house in no time. I lucked out and got the bottom bunk, no midnight dark climbing for me!

Our week consisted of daytime beachwalks, snorkels, and a couple of afternoons of coral research diving. We walked all over the island, along most of its beaches (climbing some great hills and through mangroves to get there,) looking for the telltale sign of turtle tracks coming up out of the sea. A track up and back meant she had tried to nest and we would look to find it and mark it for future action. Best of all were tracks with no return set - that meant she was still working on her nest! Being very quiet and careful not to spook her, we would watch her digging, then when she went onto her egg laying trance, we'd sneak up behind and try to count the eggs. After digging a little opening behind her tail, we'd carefully insert a hand underneath and into the chamber she had dug, trying to feel the eggs dropping across our fingers and counting each one. Of course, like all the best body processes, there was lots of what we called "turtle love juice" along with the ping-pong ball size eggs, but I tried not to think about it. It sounds gross, but is one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced! I cannot begin to describe how enthralled I was, lying there Thanksgiving morning with my hand under a hawksbill's cloaca, counting the sloppy eggs as they trickled between my fingers! Wow! Wow! And again Wow! That's how I spent Thanksgiving.

The other really cool project we did was turtle captures. We went snorkeling off of Dexter, and when we found a turtle, we just grabbed it by the shell - behind her head and at the base by the tail - careful to avoid their bites and holding on with all their flippers thrashing, and steered them back to the boat. Once hoisted aboard, we measured them 20 differdent ways, weighed them, and tagged them or recorded their tag numbers if they already had one. We caught six, (one short of the GVI record,) and I personally got two! I also caught one of the heaviest at 27Kg, he was a big struggler and I was wiped out by the time I got him back to the boat.

On Turkey Day, Erika (the other American, from SC,) and I were in charge of the meal, but it was a group effort and I was personally thankful it came off really well. We had Barbecued chickens (no turkey here,) mashed potatoes, papaya salad, glazed carrots, flatbread, rolls, apple turnovers, roasted pumpkin, pumpkin crumble, and a bunch more dishes I cannot remember right now. All cooked on a two burner propane cooktop and an open fire. Try that at home.

Before eating we went around the table in the typical tradition, and everyone shared what they were thankful for. I was thankful for my family and its newest members, the chance to travel and the experiences I've had, and finally all the wonderful new friends I've met.

My Curieuse week was one of the best of my life: we saw nesting turtles every single day, I got to feel them lay eggs in my hand, I got seven dives, we caught six turtles, and I hiked and walked all over an almost deserted island. Now I'm thankful for Paradise.

That weekend, I joined Vicki and Erika and we rented a house on the nearby island of La Digue where we enjoyed a beautiful weekend away - acting like tourists.

Happy Thanksgiving!
-Clement

How To Recommend A Good Book

I’ve written before (back in September, maybe?) about Derek and Melinda from Colorado, the couple I met on the ferry from Lombok to Bali. We spent a long afternoon together on the three hour crossing – which took seven hours. I’ve been noticing that when you start a conversation with any fellow foreign traveller, a few topics always come up. Of course there are the “Where are you from? And where are you going?” questions and if you’ve been away from home for more than a month, “What food do you miss?” The talk I always love to have is “What good books have you read?” and it was no surprise when Derek and I started comparing books we’d been through on our travels. I’m not sure if long term travellers tend to be readers at home, or if they are just taking advantage of their free time on the road to indulge in books. My thought is that people who take the time to poke around distant corners of the world have an open and curious mind, something book lovers also have, so it’s no coincidence when you find both traits in one person. Fortunately, if someone is going to stuff a book or two, (with their relatively high weight to size ratio,) into a bag to drag around the world, they choose good ones more often than not. So there are some real gems lurking on the shelves of used bookstores and the exchange piles in hostels and guesthouses. Oh, there’s plenty of crappy straight-to-paperback books floating around, but I’ve been very pleasantly surprised at the variety and quality of lit I’ve been finding.

Since I’m such a bookworm, (semi-closeted,) and often find myself talking lit with all kinds of people, I know that sooner or later, we are going to trade reading recommendations. But there are so many books and so little time, how can you decide which ones are worth pursuing? To answer this dilemma, I’ve started to rate fellow readers to decide how seriously I will take their advice and try to find their “great read.” I admit it’s a very subjective process with all kinds of difficult to define values and seemingly unrelated whims involved. How do you know someone is a real reader or just a literary tourist? Education, background and the way they speak about books I already know might clue me in. I look for clues in the other choices they make in music, art, movies and food. Sorry, but I’m not going to try very hard to find a book recommended by a Britney Spears fan who would never try anything as “gross” as sushi. Not that I don’t want to, it’s just that there are so many others I’m burning to get to. Mostly, I try to divine by the passion in your voice and the glint in your eye while you describe how the author spoke right to you, whether I might be moved also by the read you’re recommending. Ultimately, I judge the endorsement by the reader, and I have to categorize somehow. Lowest is the “take no action unless I find it for pennies at a yard sale,” group. Some I might seek out at the library or try to borrow if I spy it on a shelf somewhere. (And yes, when I visit your house and seem to be idly browsing your bookshelf, I AM judging – sorry. Don’t you know you are what you read? Why else would you keep that complete Shakespeare from college? I did.) There are just a few people in my highest rated category – some who might love reading books as much as I do and probably have better taste and a more discerning eye, too. If they plug a book, I’m at Borders that day or Amazon.com that night ordering it.

Derek was in that category just two hours after I noticed the Colorado patch on his backpack and started up a conversation. He couldn’t say enough about a book titled ”Ishmael,” and its author Daniel Quinn and if I had been staying anyplace long enough, (or if Amazon could have shipped it for less that $60,) I would have gotten it immediately. It just sounded like a book that would touch me and look at the world in a whole different way. Derek made the book sound,… important. But I resigned myself to waiting and ordering it next year when I get back home, (well I’m technically homeless, so just someplace where I can get a reasonably priced delivery.) Sure, I wrote the info down in my little notebook and kept an eye peeled for it on every bookshelf I scanned, but I was not hopeful. I mean, come on? What are the odds?

Well, I should have put a lot of money on it. Skip forward a couple of months and I’m here in the Seychelles on a volunteer project, sitting around talking meaningful books with someone I’m starting to realize has pretty good taste in lit – Vicki, an Australian surfer and world trekker type who currently lives in Barcelona. Reaching deeply into the cargo pocket of my shorts, I drag out my battered little reminders notebook, now splayed by moisture damage and also singed by the subsequent attempt to dry it on a lamp (long story.) I flip back through the stained pages to the note I added on that ferry from Lombok, “Have you ever heard of some author named Quinn?” I venture.

“Do you mean “Ishmael?’” is her surprised reply in an accent I wish I could somehow write, “I love that book. In fact I carry my copy when I travel! It’s right upstairs!”

“You’re shitting me, I’ve been dying to read it!” but it's true and 30 seconds later, her copy is in my hands. Two days later, I’d finished it for the second time and had to just stop and think about it for a while. I didn’t even feel like starting another book for several days. It was amazing. How I’ve never heard of this book, published back in 1993, until this summer astounds me.

It begins with a classified ad:

“Teacher seeks pupil.
Must have an earnest desire to
save the world. Apply in person.”

The first person narrator, a little jaded and upset at the thought of finding exactly what he’s always been searching for in such an unheralded place, answers it. He’s expecting a scam or a practical joke, or at least to find the address overrun by “… two hundred mooncalfs, softheads, boobies, ninnyhammers, noodleheads, gawkies and assorted oafs and thickwits…” but instead finds exactly what he is looking for from the teacher, an enormous full-grown gorilla named Ishmael. The rest I leave to you to discover.

I’ve read many great books, and they don’t have to be world-shaking to be great, some are just amazing stories with vivid characters, extraordinarily well-told. But there are some that touch me and mean more. These are the special books, ones I give copies of away to people I love and then buy myself another copy. What these authors shared with me is sometimes plain to see. “On The Road” revealed the nature of true friendship to me. “Catch-22” made it plain the world is senseless and not to be taken too seriously, that’s there’s always a catch (quite a catch,) and we can’t let ourselves be driven crazy by it. “Eat, Pray, Love” gave me a way to step outside my emotions yet still feel them, and comforted me that someone else shared my doubts and felt as lost and small as I did. “Zen, And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance” contains not just instructions on bike repair and a story of a man travelling with his son, but a blueprint to handle life on all different levels.

If “Zen” is about how to live in this world, “Ishmael” shows us a new way to look at it, and a way to change it, or at least live here in a different and better way. It’s a whole new kind of book for me, one that pushes me to take a step, make a difference, and try to change things. I really hope you get touched by Ishmael the way I did, and if not, at least like the story and tell someone about it. Who knows? It might put me in your top book-recommender category.

Thank you, Derek. And thank you, Vicki.

Live as if you belong to the world.

Yours,

Clement

The Nature Of Change

I've been doing some thinking and lots of writing lately, I was sitting at a borrowed laptop when my mind wandered a ways and this spilled out. Maybe it's TMI or overly introspective and naive. But here it is...

Things had been changing in my life that I could not control. Changes are constant in everyone’s life and I can accept that they happen – sometimes for the good and about as equally for the not so good. What the changes happening to me were don’t matter here, but they all seemed to be, well, let’s just say not good at all. And to make things worse, they were the kinds of changes and setbacks I couldn’t do a thing about. I felt as powerless as a broken down boat tossed on a stormy sea – blown this way and that by winds of change and threatened by the growing waves pushing me onto some implacable rocks. There seemed to be no solutions and I was getting more and more out of control until it struck me – what is the sailor’s last resort when his boat is foundering and the situation seems hopeless? “Abandon Ship!” It seems crazy to jump into stormy waters, leaving the ship behind. But the ship was sinking, and swimming on my own, while seeming more dangerous, offered a better chance at making it to safety. “Yes, abandon ship,” I thought, “Embrace the change. Go on and make even more changes. Change everything, shake it all up and see what sorts out.” I was at a point in life where I could use some changes, but I needed some I could control. You know, go to some new places, meet new people and do some different things, at least for a while, and see what happens.

I spent some time thinking about the nature of change - how it happens, the ways it affects people differently, and how to stay on top of it when, despite all my efforts otherwise, it pops up and surprises you. I discovered nothing earth-shattering, but in a broad way, I decided this: Change happens every day - most of it out of my hands and the only way to deal with that is to give up human illusions of control, and be calm, flexible, and accepting.

Instead of fighting the changes, I accepted them. I sold my house without finding a new place to live. With no place to put it, it was a little easier to sell, give away, and trash all the furniture, clothes, and things I’d accumulated. I quit my job of five years without having a new one waiting. And hardest of all, for the second time I had to let go of someone very special to me who decided her future lay elsewhere.

There is a certain calm to be found when what’s done is done and all there is left to do is wait for the result. Like when you just handed in that huge project and you’re waiting to see what the professor or boss thinks. When you are standing there with a bat in your hand and the owner of the shattered window is looking out at you with your ball in their hand. Imagine that feeling multiplied by your house, job and all previous plans for your future. There is a calm that arrives when there is absolutely nothing you can do to change the course of events, and I felt at peace about it. Some might call it equanimity. I call it terrorized calm.

Part of me still strives to change things around me, though, and I decided to accept that too and see how to make something positive out of it. “What next?” became “Now that I’m free, what have I always wanted to make happen?”

Since I can remember, I’ve always been drawn to water and wet activities. Pools, swim teams, sailing, snorkelling, canoeing, rafting, life-guarding, scuba diving, beaches and tropical destinations beat like a pulse through the story of my life. I had lessons so young that I cannot remember a time when I couldn’t swim. It should come as no shock to anyone knowing me that, about six years ago, I found my happiness as a Dive Instructor. While I quit my job I was only quitting where it was happening, I don’t think I’ll ever quit diving and teaching in some form or another. One of my realizations was that I really like certain kinds of change - changing things for other people by helping them achieve their personal goals underwater. Positive change that they as students controlled and I controlled teaching it to them. “Hmmmm,” I thought, “What else can I do that involves water and change in a positive, do something for others kind of way?”

The second passion in my life is travel. Industrialized world, Third World, kitschy tourist or deep soul-moving, natural beauty, if it’s something I haven’t laid eyes on before, it’s probably on the ever-changing mental list I keep of places to go see. Diving has taken me to some of the most amazing places on the planet – places I thought I’d never get to see with magical names like Buenos Aires, Bora-Bora, Antarctica and Galapagos. And I still hadn’t been diving much in the Indo-Pacific yet – Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia, Seychelles, Maldives – all more mystical names to see and experience. I decided to take some of that house money and make the most of being homeless and jobless and become a citizen of the world for a while, diving almost everywhere along the way.

(The trouble is that as each one gets checked off that mental list, at least two more are discovered to replace them with. You’ve probably heard of Palau and Micronesia, but there’s more. Heard of Lembeh? Pulau Tiomann? Ningaloo? Saba? Yap? Ryuku? Sipadan? How about the Similans, Chuuk, East Timor, Bequa or most recently, Aldabra? Me neither, until I met someone who has heard something good about each of them. And that’s just part of the “to dive” list. You can add all the rest of Europe, S. America, India, the Middle East, the parts of SE Asia I didn’t get to. Hell, just prescribe me an atlas, I’ve got the travel bug!)

Just days later I met a girl buying fins for a dive trip that she seemed really excited about. Not just any dive trip - she was joining a volunteer Marine Conservation Project in the Seychelles for a couple of months, and was really looking forward to making a difference. Something clicked in me at that moment and I went home that night, did some research, and thought about what had struck me. I caught her excitement and by the next day, I had called or emailed several people, sharing what I had found (and a bit puzzled that they didn’t all get as amped up as I did.) Within a week, I had put in my two week notice, come up with a travel plan, contacted Global Vision International and mailed them a deposit. I even found a home for my dog while I was away. Now I was the one changing things.

GVI offered 31 flavors of change. It’s a chance to visit somewhere totally exotic for an extended period of time so you get to know it differently and better than as a visitor. Work with other volunteers who share my concerns for the planet and oceans. Contribute scientifically to something greater than myself. Live simply (and maybe rough it a little,) making a change from my Western luxury-driven existence. Do something positive for the environment. Meet locals and work with them to further the protection of coral reefs. Give up work, home, and for a time, family and friends while discovering something about me. Change my climate, continent, hemisphere, altitude, diet, and time zone, too.

Now that I’m here in the Seychelles, five weeks into my ten week expedition, sitting here sweating at this keyboard and going way off the topic I thought I’d be writing about, I realize it’s been everything I’d hoped for plus some unexpected things too. (I can name 14 families of hard corals and 47 genera, too. In latin! Can you?) But the most important one I’d never thought of and really surprised me. One of the first nights here, we had a camp-wide meeting and went around the room, telling the brief story of our lives, how we had come to be in that room at that moment, what we hoped to get out of our experience and what we were planning to do next. What struck me the hardest was how many of these people I’d just met were struggling with the same things I was! Unsure what to do with the life they found themselves living. Vaguely thinking that despite achieving many goals, something wasn’t quite right, but struggling to find a new direction. Drawn here to do something and make a difference, even in a small way. Looking for a change. Wanting to change things themselves. Making a change instead of letting life’s changes just happen to them. Like me, they had embraced outside change in order to effect a change within. Suddenly, I realized I’m never really alone and I felt very warm and comforted.

I don’t know where this all will lead. I don’t expect to achieve some mystical “Siddartha”-like state as a result of my travels and experiences. But by discovering the huge variety of life in all the places I’ve been and people I’ve met, now I own a bigger set of tools to deal with any changes that come along. My next step in life? Unknown. Job. School. Travel. Start a business. All good possibilities. Run away again to find some combination of the these? Who knows? But wherever I go and whatever I end up doing, I’ll embrace the changes that come along.

Seychelles Thoughts, Events & Musings

I haven't done one of these in a while and my little notebook is filling up with little ideas, so I'll share some little bits with you.

Day to day, even though we keep really busy here on the expedition, I still have some random thoughts and funny things that happen to me. I try to write them down when I can, but I’m sure the best of them just slip away before I get around to it. So these will have to do.

Sharing An Earbud
What is it that is so cool about sharing an earbud with somebody? It just gives me a tremendously warm feeling, and I’m not sure why. I have a splitter, but I left it at home so when I say share, I mean two people with one ear on the music apiece. I've done it a bunch of times, on local buses, on a plane, taking a nap, while reading a book and at the beach. Is it the secret sharedness of being the only two who can hear what’s playing? Could it be the conspiratorial way you have to lean in a bit to keep it from popping out of your ear? Maybe it’s sharing with someone a song or singer you think is cool, or a chance to discover some new music you’ve never heard of. Coming from a culture that looks at a car as a reflection of the personality of its owner, I always feel like what’s on my iPod offers an even deeper look into who I really am. So it’s a little scary to open up and share it, especially on shuffle, when any of those guilty pleasure songs you are embarrassed to love might pop up on shuffle. Ricky Martin, anyone?

Goldfish care package
One of the volunteers here, a girl from California named Hilary, gets care packages from her Mom. The other week, it contained a package of Cheddar Goldfish. Not the big milk carton shaped size unfortunately, just the normal bag, and they were gone in minutes. I got my share;) but had to fight the English volunteers for it after they got to try them for the first time - they don’t have them in the UK! Sometimes it is the little things that make you re-realize we are actually from different countries. Just another taste of home I’d been missing without realizing it.

Hurtin’ Flip-Flops
I was walking around Victoria, the Capitol City of the Seychelles a weekend or two back and was feeling some serious pain between my big and first toes. Both feet. Now what could be causing that? I took them off and looked. No rocks, twigs, glass or thorns. Nothing caught in there at all. Just two angry looking red spots deep down in between the toes. What the…? Then it hit me. I haven’t worn shoes in about two and a half weeks, duh. Then I thought, "Wow, that's pretty cool..."

Bats
There are some serious fruit bats living in the Seychelles. But they are different than the bats I’m used to and not scary at all. First of all, they come out in the daytime so you can see them a whole lot better. They don’t flit and dart around in that sneaky scary way, but just cruise along, coasting on updrafts and just flapping every so often, kind of like seagulls in a good breeze. They have big light brown bodies and black wings and in the daylight, actually look kind of like little foxes – they’re pretty cute. At least until you walk under a tree and there’s one hanging upside down there, just staring at you from a foot or two over your head. Then I jump.

Nightlife
The group here is definitely not afraid to whoop it up. When we get time off, any excuse will do to have a party or run off to town to the local bars. I've raised a glass cheering on the Rugby World Cup semi's and final game (S. Africa won over England - no surprise I was rooting for the underdogs,) dressed up as a Caesar Salad for a Halloween party, and shutdown the local nightclub at 5AM. Funniest of all, I've been playing all kinds of drinking games when we hang around the base on nights that a taxi into town just seems like too much trouble and expense. Who remembers Thumper, Asshole & President, (even the Brits call it that - shouldn't it be Asshole & Prime Minister?) and Truth or Dare? I've dug into my memory and introduced some wildly popular games to the group - remember these classics: Flipcup, Spoons, and Mexican? Viking didn't catch on though. We;ve played a couple hands of 99, too, we'll see how it goes..

Blackout peeing
We’ve had some blackouts here, maybe once or twice a week for a couple of hours. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the weather, it actually seems much more likely to happen on clear sunny days than other times. When it happens at night it’s really fun, we break out the candles and flashlights (torches for the UKers,) and act like nothing is different. Until bedtime, when the lack of ceiling fans while you’re lying under mosquito netting is a sweltering unpleasant combo. In the middle of the night, I had to take a leak, so still half-asleep, I quietly felt my way to the boy’s bathroom, carefully checked that the seat was open and then peed guided only by sound. Straight into the water would make some loud and echoing sounds, so I politely tried to find the quieter range above the waterline, but not peeing on the bowl where it would splash all over my shins and the floor. Guided only by my ears, I found that almost silent sweet spot and did my business, correcting my point of aim slightly to stay there as I finished. Then I washed up and tip-toed back into my dorm, very proud of being such a good quiet roommate,… until I tripped over someone’s suitcase in the dark.

Coconut kicking
I was walking home from the bus stop in Port Launay this week after a trip to town to check some emails. It’s about a half hour stroll and very pretty, nice high ridges and sheer drops with wonderful views of the jungle, mountains, beaches and islands as it winds up and down some pretty good hills back to camp. Well, it would have had good views if I’d gotten on an earlier bus, one that arrived before sunset. Picking my way along on a moonless night trying to avoid those sheer drops was a bit trickier. The starlight was strong enough in many spots to make out the edges of the road, but when it cut under the thick green foliage, I was practically feeling my way along in the pitch dark. I had the bright idea to take off my flip flops (they were hurting anyway,) and get a better feel for the road barefoot. The pavement was rough in the middle, with a smoother groove on either side where most people drove down the center of the narrow lane, then at the edge was some grittier, pebbles and sand before the rocks went up on the high side, or dropped down on the low side. I figured if I stayed in the rougher center strip, easily detected by the soles of my feet, I’d be safe. And if I stepped into a smooth part, whichever foot felt it first would tell me which way to veer to get back in the middle. Makes sense, right? It worked well, with only a couple of moments of confusion and fear of the drop, and I was very glad that I’ve been barefoot so much otherwise the bottoms of my poor feet would have really been sore. When the road flattened out and the canopy spread back as I came through the gates to the base, I was feeling really good and my stride picked up a little as my confidence got a boost. After conquering such a long walk in the pitch dark without a problem, I was kind of proud too. Until I kicked that coconut lying in the middle of the road.

Thanks for reading, I miss you all and can't wait to hear from you!

Love & Stay Wet,

Clement

What are the odds?

What are the chances of this happening to you?

I got an email this week from a Julian Hewitt, and opened it expecting to hear from another volunteer here at GVI named Julian, ( whose last name is Crawley, but my brain missed the difference.) When I read it, and cleared up my own confusion with the names, it was from someone wondering about this post I made back in August:
http://clementsworldtour07anewbeginning.blogspot.com/2007/08/thailand-observations-and-musings.html

His wife had googled his name and discovered my post about the Julian Hewitt who left his boarding pass in a book I found in a book-trade pile in Koh Tao. It turns out that he has the exact same name as the guy who left his ticket stub in that book I picked up AND had been to Thailand AND had been on a flight with that same flight number! But he flew in 2007 not 2002 so it must be ANOTHER Julian Hewitt. Weird. I wrote him back to see what book he might have been reading and to find out more. What do you think - does he have a doppelganger roaming around somewhere? I think it's creepy-neat to imagine there is someone else on the planet, sharing your name and maybe some similar experiences. What if you came into contact with them? I can envision the Twilight Zone episode where that person tires of their own life and tries to take over yours...

Hmmmmmmm...
Clement

Change Of Plans - Spain!

Whoops, I forgot to mention this - I've added Spain at the end of my trip! I have friends living there now and since it's the southern part of Europe I'm hoping it's a bit warmer than the rest, (yeah, right.) I've been enjoying warm weather since spring hit DC last March and am NOT looking forward to the cold stuff - it's about 87 in the Seychelles today, and sunny of course. So now I've got ten days to visit Madrid, Barcelona, and anything else that strikes me. Maybe Seville? Valencia? I'm open to suggestions! My original plans are in a July post if you want to look back and laugh. Like I did.

If I've learned one thing this journey, it's that the best laid travel plans disintegrate on the ground so I'm putting myself in the hands of those showing me around. Just like I love being the best tour guide in DC, locals always know the best things to visit and the better ways to do it. I'm most excited about Barcelona - I'm not sure if it's the way those that have been there get wistful about it, what I've read, or just my imagination, but I'm a little afraid it's a city I will fall in love with and never want to leave. But that's even more of a reason to visit in my book!

So now I get home in February and then I'll figure out the rest of my life... Yaaay, I've put reality off one more month!
Wish me luck!

Buenos Tardes,
Clemente

Oh well.

Couple of "Oh Well" things...

Internet here in the Seychelles is really slow at best. I sometimes get lucky with my flickr uploads but blogger pic uploading just plain sucks. So don't expect pics on this page, just navigate to my flickr page
http://www.flickr.com/photos/clementpics/sets/
and check the sets.

Also, my new wonderful camera is in Singapore getting repaired. It turns out that Canons are really great cameras as long as you don't drop them on a cement floor. Who knew? Anyway, I'm using the old camera again, (and bitching about it, I assure you,) so there aren't as many pics to put up anyway.

Had a great weekend, played all day yesterday and went for a three hour plus snorkel today and saw 3 turtles, big schools of fusiliers, two moray eels, a bumphead parrotfish, some cuttlefish and lots of barracuda. Managed to get a pretty good sunburn on my elbows, too... Must have missed a spot with the SPF 50!

More on the cooking front, my team has kitchen duty tomorrow and I'm going to make bread. From scratch. Wish me luck, my first attempt last week tasted great but was really doughy. I'll try cooler water and see if the yeast works a little better... I also made stir-fried veggies for 30 at lunch and it turned out great. I'm even eating eggplant (gasp!)

Oh yeah, even though my opinion might not be popular: vegemite and marmite are nasty. Anf porridge is really oatmeal, so there...

And last of all, I just finished "Ishmael" by an author named Quinn. Another shake up your brain, soul, and life book. It's about human and world history and our place in it... Lots to think about in this one and I strongly recommend it. I'm actually going through it a second time just to make sure it sets in. It's the kind of book that makes you not want to pick up another book anytime soon because it will seem so bland and meaningless. Like having a major gourmet Italian meal and then looking at a saltine for dessert. Get it and read it.

Love y'all,
Clement

Recipe Request And Update

Hello friends,
I am having a great time on the volunteer expedition - saw another whale shark this week and turtles several times despite spending most of my underwater time with my nose in the coral. We are finished with the training phase and are now contributing actual research and survey data to GVI's research partners. It really feels good to be work diving and contributing something. Outside of the volunteer duties, I also was invited to help teach some local kids to dive this morning. So I lost some hours off my free time but who cares? The kids are so excited and into it that I didn't mind at all and cannot wait for next weekend. It was a challenge listening to the kids and understanding them through their Creole accent...

I have a special request from you - we are divided into four teams and rotate a day of kitchen duty every few days. I am far away from my "Heaven On Seven" Cajun cookbook and want to make jambalaya for 30 in the next couple of weeks. Does anyone have a good recipe (simple, please - not a lot of great market options here,) that I can scale up for the other volunteers and staff? Just send it to my email with Jambalaya in the subject heading - thanks!!!

In other news, we had a big Halloween Party last night and we partied late and long and loud... I went in a toga with lettuce leaves pinned onto it all over me - get it? Anyway, there is now a big new bunch of Mexican and Flip-Cup fans in the Indian Ocean!

All for now,
Please write and send me recipes, too!
Stay Wet,
Clement