History As I Never Learned It!

    Memories come back from history lessons in elementary school about the intrepid European explorers visiting exotic lands to claim them for their kings.  Sailors from Holland, Spain, Portugal, England, France vying to claim new territories. Never once was it mentioned that indigenous peoples had an rights to the land they occupied when the explorers arrived.
    Reading An Indigenous Peoples' History of  the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz turns all that history on its head.
  "Thanks to the nutritious triad of corn, beans and squash...which provide complete protein...the Americas were densely populated when the European monarchies began sponsoring colonization projects there.
   The total population of the hemisphere as about one hundred million at the end of the fifteenth century, with about two-fifths in North America, including Mexico."   p. 17
    This history recounts the roots of colonization in Europe and in detail its effect on the indigenous peoples in America.   Its difficult reading because being confronted with the brutal reality is not easy. However, it is such an important book that I wish every American...north and south would read it.

Whose War Is It?

     Yes,  "whose war is it?" is the question that drives Amitav Ghosh' novel The Glass Palace.  It's a long book, 474 pages, covering a long period of history from pre-WW I until 1996 and long on characters.  It is crammed with information that at times makes it feel more like an essay than a novel.  However, everything revolves around the dilemma faced by Indians during British Colonial rule; how should they behave during WW II.  As subjects of Britain is it their duty to fight for Britain against the Axis?  Or, is this the moment and opportunity to throw off their colonial masters?
    There are several answers to this question played out in the responses of various characters living their lives in Burma, Malaysia and India, all of which, were colonies of Great Britain.   The vehicle of a novel allows the author to give the reader insight into the multifaceted dilemma people faced and the pain they endured when there only were terrible choices.
    The book is at its most engaging when the Japanese invasion of  Malaysia and Burma, during WW II, provokes a crisis when everyone must decide how to respond.  The sweep of  the book allows readers to discover the effects of each individual's decision.  It is not always a "page turner" but the breath of information and the delineation of the existential crisis each person faced makes it well worth reading.
    Two novels by Tan Twan Eng, both set in Malaysia during WW II,  The Gift of Rain and Garden of the Evening Mists are good companion books to The Glass Palace.  There are parallels as Tan Twan Eng wrestles with the relationship of Malaysian citizens, one of whom is half Chinese and half English, to Japanese during the occupation.  Eng's book have less information but his style makes for scintillating reading.
   Personally I'm very glad to have read all three and The Gift Of Rain remains in my "top 20" of all times.

"Front Side Going" "Back Side Both Ways"

     Six people, a car that sat six and a system to avoid quarrels.  Two places were givens; Dad drove and Mom sat beside him in the middle of the front seat.  Four siblings were left to claim the other seats.  Lost to time is the memory of how the system evolved but it worked well.  No one wanted the middle of the back seat so that sibling got the prime seat either going or coming...'shotgun' the right front seat with its view out two windows; front and side. Whoever called first got dibs.

     The car?  A 1942 Chevrolet Fleetline two door...a very modern looking car with its swept back styling that Dad purchased new about the time WW II broke out.  It superseded the 1928 Ford Model A that took my parents on their honeymoon to the east coast...the car on which I learned to drive. That '42 Chevy,with its three speed stick mounted on the steering column vacuum assisted that meant finger tip shifting when the engine was running but almost impossible to shift with the engine stopped, was a paragon  of reliability.

     The winter of '48-'49 was a record breaker...so much snow that the National Guard opened roads in the country with bulldozers...I remember being able to step over telephone lines on drifted snow on my trek to school.   Our farm bordered  US Highway 81...drive it from Winnipeg to Mexico City if you'd like...and the highway was regularly plowed.  But, our driveway?...well that was a different matter. It was about a quarter of a mile long rising up a hill and winding through the grove of trees surrounding our farm yard.  We had no mechanized form of snow removal in those days...just all hands on scoop shovels.   

   Eventually we succumbed to the inevitable, gave up shoveling and left that '42 Chevy out in the cold parked at the highway.  It's very doubtful that we locked it but Dad probably took the key out. Yet, no matter how cold, even on those days far below zero and despite the fact that it hadn't been run for days it always started!  It is even more remarkable given the fact it was a six volt battery not nearly up to modern standards.

Thailand Again

    On January 9, 2017 I will leave for Thailand.  This will be my 9th year of teaching there.  The first two years I taught at Wat Salapoon.  However, the English teacher retired after the first year, and with her, much of the welcome I felt at the school dissipated.  The teacher who replaced her had little imagination for how I could be helpful and my role was quite restricted,  Fortunately, I was also connected with the school Wat Klang, so, that second year, I taught at both schools.
    My presence at Wat Klang was whole heart-idly welcomed by the entire faculty. Therefore, I look forward to returning  there for my 8th year.  As I depart each year the teachers implore me to return. Perhaps they are motivated by the fact that I return.  Other volunteers come from time to time but, after a brief stint, they leave and are never seen again.  Someone said "much of life is showing up" and I keep showing up at Wat Klang.
    Returning poses a conundrum.  It is rewarding to return to established relationships both at the school and with the family with whom I live,,,this will be my 7th year in their home. I also have long term relationships with neighbors, tuk tuk drives and others established over the years.  But familiarity breeds a kind of complacency.  What once seemed exotic, interesting, different, colorful...now is "old hat".  Elephants walking down the street, storks feeding in rice fields, huge loads on small motorcycles, elaborate temples, water buffalo in the front yard, acres of ancient ruins...hardly occasion a second glance.
    It would be grand if I could take my students from Noble Academy, where I volunteer here in Minnesota, with me so I could "see" sights through their eyes.  In past years some Noble classes have given me "I spy" lists of curiosities  with which they want me pictured.   This has helped to be aware. Pay attention...for a deep introvert like me I am tempted to focus too much on what's happening within me and too little on my external surroundings.  Hopefully, I can return to the familiar, pay attention, and use the familiarity, to see, both the externals and their significance more deeply.

From The Writer's Almanac 12/24/16

Today is Christmas Eve. One of the best modern Christmas Eve stories is a true one, and it happened in 1914, in the trenches of World War I. The "war to end all wars" was raging, but German and British soldiers had been engaging in unofficial ceasefires since mid-December. The British High Command was alarmed, and warned officers that fraternization across enemy lines might result in a decreased desire to fight. On the German side, Christmas trees were trucked in and candles lit, and on that Christmas Eve in 1914, strains of Stille Nacht - "Silent Night" - reached the ears of British soldiers. They joined in, and both sides raised candles and lanterns up above their parapets. When the song was done, a German soldier called out, "Tomorrow is Christmas; if you don't fight, we won't."

The next day dawned without the sound of gunfire. The Germans sent over some beer, and the Brits sent plum pudding. Enemies met in no man's land, exchanging handshakes and small gifts. Someone kicked in a soccer ball, and a chaotic match ensued. Details about this legendary football match vary, and no one knows for sure exactly where it took place, but everyone agrees that the Germans won by a score of three to two.

At 8:30 a.m. on December 26, after one last Christmas greeting, hostilities resumed. But the story is still told, in a thousand different versions from up and down the Western Front, more than a century later.

With Antisemitism on the rise I reprint this from 12/22/16 Writer's Almanac

It was on this day in 1894 that a Jewish officer in the French army named Alfred Dreyfus was convicted of treason in a trial that became one of the most divisive events in European history. Everybody involved in the case knew that Dreyfus had been convicted without any evidence, but nobody spoke out until Émile Zola, the most famous writer in France, published an open letter to the president on the front page of one of the major newspapers in France, detailing all the evidence upon which Dreyfus had been unjustly convicted. The headline for the article was "J'accuse," which means, "I accuse." It's been called the most famous front page in the history of newspapers. A total of 300,000 copies were sold in one day. The article was reprinted in newspapers throughout France and around the world.

Writer's Almanac Dec. 21, 2016

In the Northern Hemisphere, today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year and the longest night. It's officially the first day of winter and one of the oldest-known holidays in human history. Anthropologists believe that solstice celebrations go back at least 30,000 years, before humans even began farming on a large scale. Many of the most ancient stone structures made by human beings were designed to pinpoint the precise date of the solstice. The stone circles of Stonehenge were arranged to receive the first rays of midwinter sun.

Some ancient peoples believed that because daylight was waning, it might go away forever, so they lit huge bonfires to tempt the sun to come back. The tradition of decorating our houses and our trees with lights at this time of year is passed down from those ancient bonfires. In ancient Egypt and Syria, people celebrated the winter solstice as the sun's birthday. In ancient Rome, the winter solstice was celebrated with the festival of Saturnalia, during which all business transactions and even wars were suspended, and slaves were waited upon by their masters.

Notes From The Academy

     Noble Academy, a Minnesota Charter School, with special emphasis on the Hmong language and culture, provides a wonderful volunteer opportunity for me.  My task is to read books with high achieving 5th and 6th grade students to provide enrichment commensurate with their abilities.  There are four 5th graders in my group and my 6th grade group has just been expanded from four to five.  It requires no preparation from me and I attend as I am able which means most days I spend mornings there.
    Recently the 5th grades read Flipped, a young readers book.   It's the story of a boy and girl who grow up neighbors.  He has no time for her until junior high by which time she begins to tire of him. Of course, they eventually come together.
    One scene in the book amused me...I should say...the response of these ten year old students amused me.  The junior high booster club has an old fashioned basket social to raise funds for their activities.  All the students vote to select 20 boys who then must bring baskets to a school assembly. Girls then bid on the baskets and the highest bidder has lunch with the boy whose basket they purchased.
    These fifth  graders had only one interest: what food was in the basket.  Neither the 2 boys, nor the 2 girls, could begin to imagine that one would bid on a basket becasue they liked the person who brought it.  Even after I pressed them a bit it was only the contents of the basket that mattered.  I told them that when they meet me in the hall in a couple of years to tell me if they still think only the food that matters.😜
     There are remarkable changes in students between 5th and 6th grade.  By 6th grade a bit of "cool" is beginning to show.  Their thinking is also beginning to mature.  This was a conversation this week with the 6th grade.  Serenity (her name) "Mr. Al, what is the point of life if we're just going to die anyway?"  Cynthia responded immediately "Serenity, it's about the journey."   We talked about it a bit but not much was said improved on Cynthia's response.

From 12/9/16 Writer's Almanac

On this date in 1979, a panel of scientists declared the smallpox virus to be eradicated. It's the first and only disease to be driven to extinction through human efforts.

The disease itself has probably been around since at least 10,000 B.C.E. Evidence of smallpox scars has been found on Egyptian mummies, and the decline of the Roman Empire coincides with a particularly bad outbreak that claimed 7 million people. It spread from northern Africa throughout Europe and Asia, and came to the New World with Spanish explorers.

Tank Heaters

    What do you think of when you hear "tank heater?"   A few will think of the electric heater that could be attached to the engine of a tractor or car for aid in cold weather starting.  Perhaps most will think of the water heater that heats water for the home.  But mention "tank heater" to a farm boy in the 40's he'd likely think of the heater that keep the cattle water tank from becoming a solid block of ice.
     Our cattle herd lived outside all winter with the exception of the rare occasion of s severe blizzard.  Those cattle needed water to drink all year around.  Between the windmill that pumped the water using wind power and the cattle yard stood a wooden water tank about 10 feet in diameter and about 30 inches high.  In the cold of winter that tank would quickly become a solid block of ice without some method of heating it.
    Our farm was one of the first in the area to be served with electricity because we were next to US Highway 81, and the power line followed the highway.  It reached us in 1943.  But, use of electricity expanded very gradually.  At first we got electric lights and a refrigerator and not much else though we did have an electric cream separator as early as I can remember. It was on object of envy for my friends who had to crank theirs by hand.  It was many years before electric tank heaters appeared.
   The tank heater of my memory was an oblong steel tube about 18 inches wide and 12 inches deep with about a 45 degree angle.  One end lay on the bottom of the water tank weighted down with stones so it wouldn't float.  A chimney rose from this section above the water. The angle part protruded above the water and had a hinged cover. Combustible material...coal, wood, corn cobs...was ignited inside the tank heater and that heated the water in the cattle tank,  Cobs were very combustible, easy to light and gave great heat but quickly burned up.  Wood and coal would burn for a long time, and, because the heater needed to function 24-7, were more desirable.  Cobs were a great starter to get coal or wood burning.  \
    I have memories of  looking out the kitchen window and seeing smoking drift up from the tank heater chimney.
  ( Perhaps some time I'll do an essay on corn cobs.)

Postscript about trees

   Yesterday's blog post reported on the fine grove of trees that surrounded our farmstead.  It provided wonderful protection from the bitter winter winds except in the rare occasion of an east wind.  There was a bit of downside in the summer time when the yard would be very hot as the summer breezes were blocked.
    The orchard enclosed as it was within the trees could be stifling hot in the heat of summer.  Dad was an avid gardener and in his last years his garden was between the orchard and the other trees...no breezes were likely to reach that spot.  One stifling hot summer day with the temperature near 100 degrees day, now in his 80s, was working in the garden. I was sent out to keep an eye on him.  After we'd worked awhile I said I thought we'd better go to the house to cool off.  He said "I'm not hot."  I said "I am" and that persuaded him to go in.  (For those who now wonder about my current tolerance for heat you see I come by it honestly.)
   This grove presented a wonderful play ground for us as children.  The grassy yard was large enough to host a baseball game and other sports.  But the trees were a great place for children to play.  We spent many hours in the cool shade climbing, exploring, imagining and building.  Not to mention cutting wood for the stove.

Tree Planting Legacy

    Grandpa, Lars, purchased the right to complete homesteading on the Brookings Country farm where I was raised and began farming it in 1885. He planted a horseshoe shaped grove of trees around the farm yard.  There were trees on the north, west and south sides with only the east side left open.  The house was near the west tree line facing east toward the barn and granaries.  A huge cottonwood tree stood 25 yards north east of the house until recently and was often the site of our annual birthday picture.  The trunk was leaned a bit because horses rubbed on it while it was young.
   My father, Albert, continued planting trees.  He maintained a large orchard which was south of the house but inside the tree line but I don't know who did the original planting.  There were a variety of apple trees including two from which my mother made delicious apple jelly.  The pear tree produced pears but they were quite green and hard.  A couple kinds of plums completed the variety.
   After the dust bowl, dirty thirties, Dad also planted a shelter belt of trees on the south side of our quarter section of land.  I remember riding with him as he cultivated these trees in the early 40's. That shelter belt still stands as does the grove around the yard.  My brother, who succeeded Dad on the farm, continued the tradition by planting a row of ash trees on the terrace he constructed to prevent soil erosion.
  It has come naturally for me to continue the tradition by planting thousands of trees on our land.  A few years ago R. M. and I hand planted 700 bare root cedar trees in one day...don't think we'd do that much now.   I'm reminded of Martin Luther's statement "Even if I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I'd plant my apple tree today."

Some of the trees including some Ponderosa Pine are visible behind the house.