20 dicembre - buon natale da Torri Superiore!

Just a quick note to say I'm safe and thriving in Southern Italy, where the sun shines, wine flows and olives grow... all my best for the holidays - it's Christmas in London this year, and maybe an update or two before I get home on the 2nd...
All my love and warmth,
Elizabeth

December 7 - Feels like a week's gone by...

Dear friends and family,
I arrived safely in Cambridge last night, only to dash off again tomorrow to Heathrow to meet one of my best new friends and fly to Rome.
I’ve just spent the most lovely and difficult 24 hours with this family – only difficult because they are so loving, genuine, hospitable, and British I almost don’t know what to do with myself. At half past 9 last night after meeting Dana at the train station (my second cousin once removed - or whatever the relation is) I stepped into her and her husband’s flat to find myself faced with four church leaders (including Dana’s husband, Mark) discussing the heres and theres of deaths, marriages, and denominations over tea, all very distinct and agreeable personalities, all very British. From my small exposure at Findhorn and my huge dose in the last day or so, I’ve found British humor extremely enjoyable, and I have often just sat back and relished it rather than bursting out laughing (the former goes over much better in respectable company). I had the pleasure of having afternoon roast with Mark, Dana, and a friend of the family named Betty (formally Elizabeth) whom Mark described as “refreshing” and “outside of the box” – and she was indeed, quite charmingly chatty and rather opinionated about the way things should be done and especially how they should be written and spoken. I truly enjoyed her company, especially because (in spite of her firm beliefs about the English language) she regularly stepped back and got a good chuckle out of her own personality.
After Sunday roast Dana and I wandered the streets of Cambridge, admiring the stately, imposing colleges and cobblestone streets while listening to the jingle of sleigh bells in the newly constructed behemoth of a shopping mall just one street over. I met one of their three daughters, Rachel, who seemed incredibly mature for her age, but had a gaiety about her which - whether it’s conscious or not - must have something to do with how wonderful her parents are. After tea with Dana and a wonderful conversation about her work in family therapy, it was back to the flat to sit on couches, talk, drink more tea, and watch the end of Miracle on 34th Street (which I was actually a bit disturbed by this time around. I can’t imagine showing this to my children in good conscience. Am I becoming a Values Snob?). Tears welled up in my eyes after we all said goodnight. I can hardly believe this is real… it’s not as if I haven’t experienced great generosity before, but something about the mercy of stepping out of such an intense and life-changing experience as Findhorn into such a solid, warm & homey atmosphere just chokes me up.
Let’s hope the rest of my trip goes this well, or that I can bring some of this safety and warmth to wherever I end up; there’s plenty to go around.

December 6 - Last day at Findhorn

Tomorrow morning I head off to Cambridge to stay with some family for a couple nights, after which I’ll fly to Rome to have one last hurrah with a few of my dear friends from the program. Afterwards, one friend and I are heading to an Italian ecovillage (www.torri-superiori.org) – she’ll stay for few nights, and I’ll stay and work for just under two weeks. I am so excited. (I apologize that this is a rather lackluster post – I’ve been packing and saying goodbye all day and am considerably exhausted). After that I’m heading back up to the UK to spend Christmas in London.
I have had a marvelous time here, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything – hopefully I’ll have more time to reflect as time goes on and the internet café becomes my only connection to the outside world. All I want for Christmas (and my birthday) is safe travels and to know my family and friends are enjoying these precious days with people who love them…
Hopefully I will post again soon (?)
EV

December 3rd - Thanksgiving Photos

I realize it's a little late, but who doesn't like to stretch holidays out?

This part of my journey is almost complete: I have three more days in the ecovillage with my classmates, after which I will be careening about Europe at breakneck speed... or more likely at this point, strolling through parts of Italy at as leisurely a pace as possible. I'd like to settle down a bit in one region, to really enjoy my surroundings on a deeper level, even if it's only for a couple weeks. I'll update you on my travel plans when they become more concrete.

Meanwhile, we had a lovely Thanksgiving - complete with turkey (gasp!), real boxed wine (a classic), and card games - the only thing missing was football on the telly, which was probably the only point of possible contention during the whole feast, and it was handled with grace - although I kinda missed the muffled cheers of crazed fans in the background.
Mom sent me a package of Thanksgiving decorations, and let me tell you, they were a hit. The paper turkey, scarecrow, maize, etc. made the little eco-house really feel American, and many warm thanks were extended to you that night, Mom. I know it made sound odd, but it really made quite a difference. I got a lot of really sweet comments about it.


Callie shows off her luscious stuffed tomato recipe. We had a blast preparing most everything using ingredients from the communal kitchen & shed - free food is always a bonus.


We encountered many a strange potato in the mashing.


And got extremely bored while the strange potatoes boiled.


Which brought us to another house full of feast-preparing students, including Mikaela and her pies. Some of the ingredients are still strewn about our kitchen, but the tart apple pie was well worth the mess.


Once we had completed the prep and arrived at our generous teacher's house, we all explained what we had made and why. And of course David (the professor some of us affectionately call "Papa Bear") made us all say something we were grateful for... talk about feeling at home :)


We all contributed one family tradition to the feast. I contributed cheese and crackers; my favorite part is the waiting (and I've already baked so much for this group they've taken to calling me 'mom').



Jake and Leaf heartily enjoyed the cheese and crackers (not to mention the wine).


I clean my plate and promote world peace at the same time - life is good. (I must have been dizzyingly full to have given the peace sign in that moment...)


We chose to replace the post-meal nap with post-meal massages. Not a bad swap, in my opinion.

I'm not sure where I'll be for Christmas, but if it's half as enjoyable as Thanksgiving was I'll have nothing to complain about. I'm going to deeply miss the makeshift, motley family we've formed here...

November 20 - Once Upon a Time...

This semester each of the students has been asked to “teach” the other students about something in their life that sustains them. The idea of sustainability we’ve been exploring applies not only to preserving the earth’s finite resources, but to preserving ourselves and our communities through actively seeking social, mental/emotional and in many cases spiritual enrichment in a healthy way. We’ve had students speak about political activism, time spent at a Buddhist monastery, social networking, apple crisp and guerrilla gardening.
I wanted to give my friends a taste of the evenings I’ve spent at home with my family. We would sit and read to each other - I would often read, because I love it, but we all take our turn – and dad would have his chips and salsa, and mom would have a little wine, Nathan his ice cream, perhaps. We would just sit and read, and then maybe play a game of cards… hearts, most likely. This made me so happy to be alive and filled me with good will for my family and for other people – it gave me energy to go out into the world. It made me so grateful for the privileges I have, and grateful that I could enjoy them without spending money, sitting in front of a TV or using any resources. Something about the simplicity of this time with people who are in a predetermined group but still choose to spend time together just to enjoy one another feels like magic to me.
I gathered my classmates, settled them in one of our rooms, poured them some wine and read a quirky short story I had found just a few days before. I was surprised at how willingly they sat through the story – so silent and attentive. In this age (and with this group of “creative” – i.e. fidgety - people) I would have guessed at least half would have been tittering softly or squirming about by the second page, but every one listened respectfully and lovingly until the end. The wine may have had something to do with it, but I think we’ve actually developed a really healthy level of respect and care for one another that shows especially when we’re all in the same room. It’s been incredible to me how cohesive and supportive the group has been in the last couple weeks. We’ve seen uglier sides of the group and of individuals, me included – seeing one another daily for hours on end and then going home to sleep in the same house at the end of the day will bring those things out – but when all is said and done, the group leaves me feeling pretty optimistic about the human potential to live in community. And it’s lovely to know that storytelling doesn’t have to be lost on my generation.

November 11 - Volatile Vegetarians

I picked up some vegan ice cream (rice cream, technically) from our little food shop today and read the ingredients with considerable interest. Apparently they’ve put something call vegetarian stabilizers in my chocolate treat. Do vegetarians need to be stabilized? If so, why is this not public knowledge? Why must these stabilizers be placed surreptitiously into innocent looking dessert containers? In addition, the company that puts out these stabilizer-infused sweets is called B’Nice... coincidence? I think not.

November 11 - Happily Diving into Hippiedom

A friend of mine made a comment that she was bothered by the fact that Buddhists believe that life is suffering, because she thoroughly enjoys living.
I definitely appreciate that perspective, but we just spent a day learning about Buddhism at a local Tibetan retreat center, and I was exposed to a whole new way of thinking about suffering.
According to the man who spoke to us for the majority of the day (whom I really respected for his thoughtfulness, attentive listening and willingness to be challenged ideologically) life is suffering according to the Buddha (which means “enlightened one”, much like Christ means Messiah) but the definition of suffering is not necessarily pain and misery. The way I understand it, the Buddhist version of “suffering” can almost be equated with change (I’m new to these ancient ideas, so I apologize if I’m a little off). Buddhists believe that all humans are looking for lasting happiness (or peace, joy, contentment). They believe that we search for this lasting happiness (or even consciously for temporary happiness) through means outside of ourselves, such as a partner, money, possessions, food, drink – anything a human can desire and/or revile. They believe that life is a cycle of desiring something, receiving or not receiving it and reacting to getting/not getting what one wants, which leads to more desiring and reacting – like waves that come in and go out unceasingly. It is “suffering” that there is no constant – even the strongest love will change over the years. Wanting more of what we believe is good based on experience is suffering, because we can never have enough and too much is unhealthy or just makes us miserable, so we constantly try to change things in our lives to balance ourselves out. We are subject to the law of cause and effect; so that no action we take exists in a vacuum – we are constantly experiencing consequences of actions previously taken and helping to create our own future through our present actions. Buddhists believe this cycle can be stopped when the waves are calmed (sorry, I adore metaphors) and the water is still. When water is still, it far more accurately reflects what is in front of it, so Buddhists believe that through meditation and (in Tibetan Buddhism) public debates one can get to know oneself enough to recognize and therefore have greater control over the waves and can see life more clearly, like in a still pond.
I really admire some of the concepts in Buddhism. I’m not shaving my head and donning orange just yet, but I think there are some very valuable ways of looking at the world to be explored. I’m sure that’s true of most worldviews/religions, but I’m especially intrigued by this one, because it advocates greater self-awareness and deep thoughtfulness about morality.

Speaking of extremes (such as orange robes and hairless heads), I’ve recently decided to be vegan. The way animals are raised and processed in industrial agriculture is pretty disturbing – unhealthy for them, us, and disgustingly so for the environment. Since I’m in a community that supports that sort of decision, they always have vegan options at meals - even if I’m the only one who’ll take advantage of that option. It’s a choice that reminds me daily that there’s something I can do (or in this case, not do / eat) that will decrease harm to the environment, and I’m in a place that makes it ridiculously easy – how could I not try it out? It will be more difficult when I start traveling, but I researched and asked around about keeping myself healthy, and I’m taking vitamins and Omega-3 oils daily and eating plenty of soy and nuts for protein, and I’ll just keep paying attention to how my body reacts and play this more-or-less by ear. To be honest, my mood has improved greatly, and I have plenty of energy – I got headaches for the first few days, but that tends to happen when I give anything up. And the great news is, most dark chocolate doesn’t have any animal products in it.

When I get back to Oregon, I’m considering being a “Freegan” – that is, only monetarily supporting non-animal products, but allowing more flexibility when it comes to free food. The idea (for me) is to remove my support from the industry (which excludes local, small scale farms; they’re really struggling and often produce animal products in a healthy/humane/sustainable way). I’m looking at my spending money as a way to vote on how & where I want my food to be grown. And on the even brighter side, I make a mean vegan oatmeal raisin cookie. Let me know if you’re interested.

October 29 - Snow and Sustainability

I come from pretty hearty stock, but I must admit, I am COLD (apologies to my Norwegian ancestors). On the positive side, the cold allowed for a thick flurry of snowflakes yesterday, which made possible four chilled faces tilted toward the sky, letting snow melt on their skin for the first time in their lives. These two Mexicans, the Ugandan and the Australian braved the weather for far longer than the rest of us (more or less) seasoned snow-appreciators dared to try. We watched them from indoors, huddled over our cups of tea.

In the states, I often hear the environment talked about as something to be dealt with once we get through “these other issues”, such as the economy, poverty, politics – but I’ve been finding that all these issues are inextricably linked. I’m beginning to suspect that localization can help us find a lot of what we’re looking for, if we’re willing to make some changes… For example, local garden plots – families or individuals could invest in a certain plot in a community garden and receive a corresponding percentage of the yield. Once the garden is established, it may even be possible to determine how much each “investor” receives through logging hours worked in the garden or tools/resources directly donated, instead of having individual plots – there are a myriad of ways this could be played out. It’s a simple concept (although getting a group of people in any community to agree on anything is never simple, in my experience) but if it could be implemented, it would provide local, seasonal food for families, cutting down or ideally eliminating “drugged up” food flown in from across the world; it could provide some community bonding time – for example, an investor with money but no time could invest in the garden, have a poor student (just trying to generate sympathy for my kind before I return) put in the work, and split the goods, creating a connection that would never have existed otherwise.

I have many many more (mostly half-baked) thoughts on the subjects of priorities, localization, and gardening in general… but homework is calling, and so is my bed. My thoughts are with the U.S. in this final countdown to our next (hopefully great) leader…

In response to my previous post, a dear friend sent the following quote, which I really appreciate as a perspective:
“A leader is best when people barely know he exists, not so good when people obey and acclaim him, worst when they despise him. But of a good leader, who talks little, when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say, ‘We did this ourselves.’” - Lao-Tzu

October 22 - Leadership

We just read a book with the subtitle “The Inner Path to Leadership”. I won’t get into what I thought of the book, but my initial response to the subtitle was “why would this be a mass produced book? We can’t have a whole group of people who are leaders; who would be around to follow?” I thought of leaders as people who “take up the cause”, bear the brunt of the work, know what needs to be done, forge ahead, etc.
However, in the past couple weeks the word leadership has come up a lot, and I’m working on redefining the term and applying my new concept of leadership to my life here at Findhorn.

Being a leader can mean taking initiative, allowing myself to step into a needed position and to step out when appropriate, but never just to sit back and “let things happen”. It does not have to mean taking full responsibility for the direction a group goes – although it would be exercising leadership to point out when the group takes what I perceive to be an unhealthy turn, and maybe even propose a potential solution or redirection. A room full of leaders wouldn’t be a room full of competition, it could be a powerful force as a whole. Each leader would step in when appropriate and bring new issues, solutions and perceptions to light as needed, all working toward the greater good of the group or goal. On the other hand, a room full of people with only one leader means only one set of expressed ideas, one mind for inspiration, one person able to wholeheartedly step into the process, conscience and all. A room full of leaders will almost inevitably mean more conflict, but 1) when working for an agreed-upon goal beyond pleasantness or uniformity, conflict can be the most fertile soil for new beginnings and 2) with only one leader, conflict will arise in the form of resentment and “behind the scenes” or indirect attempts by “followers” to get their way.

I’m only beginning to formulate ideas surrounding leadership and group dynamics, and I’m sure this could be a very long conversation, so I’ll stop there - but if anyone has any thoughts regarding leadership/group dynamics etc., I’d love to hear them!

October 19 - A Slew of Overdue Pictures

I apologize for not writing sooner. After the clarity and stillness of Erraid, I've had a difficult time readjusting to the relative chaos at the Findhorn Foundation Park. It's admittedly humorous that the Park initially seemed like a peaceful place to me (compared to much of America I suppose), but I think whenever a place begins to feel like home, I start looking for a refuge from that place, no matter how miraculously suited to me the place may be. Erraid was most certainly that refuge – but don’t think I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed the Park, and suspect I'll continue to do so until my term is up.

The small island of Erraid was one of those rare places I know I'll want to see again - it was like a fantasy for me. There was an expansiveness about the whole place, which was held in stark contrast to the eight cozy houses we stayed in (8 out of 9 on the island). They were positioned just in front of the sea, bordered by abundant vegetable gardens and fences for milk cows. We spent our days working alongside the community of 23 people (15 of which were in my group visiting the island). I spent hours chopping wood and clearing out a garden area for winter, and others worked in the kitchen or candle studio. Evenings were spent in good company, knitting, reading, playing board games, or taking long, cold walks by the ocean… an ocean we repeatedly dived into after a hard day’s work. Everything we did during the day affected the community, because it was so small and more or less self-sufficient. Our milk was from our cows, the veggies from our garden, extra clothing layers from a dresser full of second-hand clothing, bread and meals from our kitchen… it was simple and fulfilling.
The set-up isn’t perfect – the electricity, for example, is still on the grid, because they can’t afford to put up windmills yet. But it was as close to my version of perfect I’ve ever seen, wind and rain notwithstanding.



The infamous outhouses and the illustrious Emma Dines



The view from within



The stove Leaf is standing beside was made out of an oceanic mine. It’s now used to melt the wax for candles. Talk about recycling



Samantha with Cow Droppings. These ‘little’ beauties were littered across the landscape, including our backyards...



Each of these roofs contained two houses – check out the view I got every morning…



At the top of a giant hill… Scotland has nothing compared to Oregon’s mountains, but I don't usually try to climb Oregonian mts. in only Wellies and a windbreaker… it was quite a walk.



We had to make it through several small bogs on the way. I only got stuck once, but it wasn’t pretty.



The Wishing Stone at the peak of the hill. The water around it has gathered naturally, and locals and guests either lean or stand on it and send their wishes to the sky.



Somehow we got everyone up there (I’m on the top right hand side)



Just down the hill... paradise



I had to go swimming. The water was so clear I could see my feet even where they couldn’t reach the sand












The group often gathered in the community room at the end of the day to play guitar, games, or just hang about. This room contained the only TV on the island, so naturally we watched all of Gandhi one evening. Not exactly light fare, but well worth the viewing.



Callie "cozies up" in our room



Early morning view from my front door



Fresh apples soon after sunrise



The wind could get pretty intense up there



On the last day - preparing to climb down the dock to float back to civilization

October 3 – Escape from civilization

The whole gang will be heading to the Isle of Erraid starting tomorrow (Saturday the 4th) and we won’t be back until the 11th. Our focalizers aren’t telling us much, just to bring really warm clothes, no computers, and be prepared to use outhouses which are used to make compost for the gardens. “Humanure” is the term for it. There have been books written on the whole process… anyway, toilets aside, the whole thing is supposed to be quite simple, a break from our busy daily lives, a time to reflect and work in a new community.
This is great; one month of intensity tempered by one week of simplicity. Of course, knowing me, I’ll make the simplicity as intense as I can... my way of enjoying life :) I’ll be rebelliously bringing at least one electronic device: my camera comes with me! Updates in a week or so (I won’t be able to check email or blog on the island).

Some Pictures to Ponder while you Pine for my e-Presence:

Oooh...


Study time - the picture speaks for itself :)


Cuddle Puddles help relieve stress at the end of the day


Cooking pond scum at Aussie buddy Craig's handbuilt house after exploring his wild edible garden. Samantha collected some on a whim and brought it in. Craig's response was "well, I've never tried it, but what the 'ell, cook some up."


I am intrigued by the interesting cuisine, but I must admit I preferred the toasted oat cakes to the pond scum.


Craig and Callie pose American Gothic. As usual, Callie can not keep a straight face. She may be more American, but he’s way more Gothic.

In regards to the $700bn bailout plan failing (at least this time around), there’s this lovely little ecovillage in Northern Scotland – maybe it’s a good time to take a nice long vacation?

For those of you who don’t regularly wake up with a coffee and a dose of doom, check out news.bbc.co.uk – they have pretty darn thorough coverage in general (and of course further removed, physically and politically). If the address doesn’t work, just google BBC news, America’s in the headlines this week.

Love to all (and I’m serious about that vacation…)

Sept. 29 - This One’s for the Tree Huggers

People Huggers are welcome too.

It’s mind-blowing the impact that education can have. In the past few weeks the concept of sustainable living for me has gone from a healthy and wise option to what I perceive to be a necessity. I came into the program largely ignorant of the dire state our world is in – for example, the fact that we have used up all the natural resources needed to sustain the world’s population and are now digging into resources so deeply that the earth won’t be able regenerate them in order to keep us at the living standards we currently enjoy, let alone keep all of us humans alive and the swollen population growing at the same rate. An analogy I liked was the idea of the earth as an apple tree. For a long time, we picked the apples when they were available, and the tree grew more apples – it was more or less mutually beneficial, and certainly not devastating to the tree. Now we’ve begun digging into the trunk, and the tree’s capacity to grow apples is being diminished.

We are using oil faster than it can possibly be found, so unless we “change our ways” we will ultimately hit a huge oil crash; when our stores of oil run out and the oil we’re finding doesn’t even begin to support the life-styles we’ve grown accustomed to. You’ve probably heard this before, but if everyone on the planet consumed at the current rate the U.S. is consuming (food, products, electricity, etc, most of which is greatly affected by oil through transportation or otherwise) we would need 5 and a half earths to keep everyone alive. And that’s just the average. On average, an American citizen is using five and a half the amount of resources that would be allotted to him/her if we were to parcel out everything evenly. That’s pretty impressive.
And that’s just looking at the earth as a bundle of resources for human use. The truth is, humans are just one species on the planet. Our ability to self-reflect and our subsequent position at the top of the food chain (through agricultural, industry, technology, etc) may separate us from other species, but it doesn’t make us indispensable. We could literally wipe ourselves out by over-using what keeps us alive, but the earth will still be around. We don’t need to save the trees. We need to save ourselves (and keeping plenty of trees for the journey wouldn’t hurt…)

I heard that the earth goes through cycles of warmth and cold over massive periods of time (the age of dinosaurs and the ice age, for example). I wondered for a long time (admittedly without really searching for a solution) whether the warming that most scientists agree that we’re experiencing was just another natural cycle, or whether human emissions were significantly affecting our climate. I figured our emissions must have some effect, because it’s undeniable that we’ve been pumping more chemicals into the water and air in the last several decades than we have collectively in human history prior to 1900. Finally I was introduced to the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change), which has issued assessment reports in 1990, 1992, 1995, 2001, and the latest, “Climate Change 2007”. The reports indicate that human activity has indeed altered the climate beyond the natural cycles of climate, particularly in the last 50 years or less. (If you want to check out the IPCC, you can go to www.IPCC.ch. It was set up by the World Meteorological Organization and the United Nations Environment Program.) So I’m looking into tracking down actual excerpts from this report and into what the implications of human-induced climate change are – I know it goes beyond a few degrees a year – it affects the way crops behave (did you know that agriculture as a business in North America boasts the greatest use of fossil fuel, far outreaching even the total use of fuel in the U.S. military?), the way oceans and weather behaves (lots of prayers/thoughts going out to Texas!) etc. etc… I’m a baby in the world of science, agriculture, environmentalism, fossil fuels, human sustainability… the old adage about learning more and knowing less seems to be holding true… I feel more naïve and uncultured than I did before I ventured out again… I suppose that’s appropriate. May we never cease to encounter people/places/ideas that bring that familiar (albeit uncomfortable) flush of not-knowing-‘enough’.

One of the contradictions I see in this program is amount of work we’re doing in order to learn about the Human Challenge of Sustainability (the subtitle for our program). I acknowledge that a lot of work needs to be done (and quickly) to get the earth survivable for humans and that we as students have a crap-load to learn in a short period of time. What’s frustrating for me is my belief that part of living a sustainable life means slowing down, not burning out at age 35, taking enough time to actually see what needs to be done before moving on to the next task, taking enough time to appreciate the land we want to protect for our own good.
Through the lens of a college student, I do not feel that we’ve had an inordinate amount of work. But through the lens of a human being, I hope the “school work” we’re doing doesn’t interfere with a deeper sense of what it means to live a sustainable lifestyle on a very personal level.

I started writing thinking that the contrast between our work load and the idea of sustainable living was a problem inherent and possibly unavoidable in the program, but I think I’ll switch my paradigm to a more personally responsible one. If I want a balance between trying out a new lifestyle and soaking in some really good head knowledge, that’s what I should pursue.

I have really been attempting to bring a sense of self into everything I do. I’m trying to find a balance between my role and presence in the group and my own ambitions and desires; they do not always go hand-in-hand. Every farm we visit, every paper I write, is there for my own development, and I can take as much or as little as I want from each experience. I don’t have to do anything because the group is doing it, but doing something for the sake of being and learning with the group is as good an excuse as any.
This may sound obvious, but it’s something I can forget when I’m constantly identified as part of a group. I’ll only be taking myself home with me, and while this short-term family will always be a resource for me and I for them, it’s what I personally internalize that will last far longer.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER!!! (20? really?!?)

My family until December... Top row, L to R: David (our focalizer/leader), Leaf (the handy-man), Hannah (just came from studying in a Buddhist retreat center), Emma (our personal charismatic intern), and Stacie (the other focalizer/leader).
Middle Row, L to R: Mikaela (bakes cookies frequently), Tom (gardener/breadmaker/songwriter), some gorgeous young lady (laughs really loud), Callie (gives the best hugs), Dragonfly (was homecoming queen, now refuses to brush her hair), Ina (the "little sister"), Emily G. (digs sports and cooking), Abbi (knits constantly) Jake (likes beer and sarcasm)
Bottom Row, L to R: Samantha (can make me giggle uncontrollably and think until my head hurts), and Emily V. (seen below after shaving her head).


Findhorn's Big Apple.


Family members in their natural habitat.


My natural habitat.

September 22 - Going Bananas

Picture this: A bird’s nest, made of twigs and little paper mache eggs, is perched in the lonely old tree that rests in front of the library. Nestled among the eggs, a plastic toy airplane pokes its nose towards the sky.
Hanging from a branch just below the nest, a hand scribbled sign asks: “Where do you think all our brilliant ideas come from, anyway?”

One of the students in our group is quite enthusiastic about this sort of thing – it’s widely known as Guerilla Art. Her intention with this specific example was to draw onlookers’ attention back to nature as inspiration, even for our most sophisticated technologies – although any interpretation would have been just as effective. The idea behind Guerrilla Art can be to draw attention to a particular issue, to add beauty to the world, to break the monotony in day-to-day routines, to challenge the way others see certain aspects of the world, just to make people think, etc. etc… as long as it’s essentially anonymous and in a public area.

Our group got inspired after she gave her “guerrilla art” presentation, and we’ve decided to storm the community with bananas. We’ve got a giant traveling cardboard banana this week, to be followed by small bananas hanging from apple trees and a few of us in banana suits next Friday at the community dinner. And to top it all off, there’s a method to our madness, which we will describe in detail on our community bulletin board next Friday:

We discovered that Findhorn, renowned for its gigantic and plentiful vegetable gardens and admirable eco-friendly aims, has been importing bananas from Central America. And not just any bananas, but Dole bananas (Dole has some particularly unsavory political/environmental/human rights history, which I can share with you at a later date). Shocked and dismayed, we complained righteously for a few weeks, and then guerrilla art gave us a way to let the wider community know what was going on (the bananas are only for guests) and hopefully spark discussion and change through whimsy. I’ll keep you updated.

No, I don’t know who will be wearing the banana costume.

September 17 - A Quick Note

I am relying on the internet for the majority of my communication, but for those of you waiting for a promised postcard, here’s why nothing has come:

Tuesday: Four hour foray to Forres. Walked there and hitchhiked back in order to pick up postcard stamps & envelopes.

Thursday: Write postcards and a letter. Discover there’s no place to send international mail in Findhorn. Darn hippies.

Saturday: Walk 25 minutes to nearby village, find post office, discover it closed an hour before I got there and won’t open until Monday. The hours for the post office (which is oddly located inside a convenience store) are not posted and the convenience store attendant doesn’t know the schedule.

Monday – Friday: Not a blessed hour to spare.

Next Saturday morning: Arrive at the post office an hour before it closed last week. Am informed that it’s closed today due to a national holiday. Attendant hasn’t a clue as to the name of the holiday that has thwarted my plans.

Monday morning: 15 minute run to village at 8 am (with a cold, mind you). Post office doesn’t open until 9. Class starts at 9… you get the picture.

So I’m slogging through wind and rain and uninformed convenience store attendants to get 2 measly postcards and a letter to a few of the people I love… be patient, dear ones. I will (eventually) succeed.

September 12 - Field Trip

I think the folks here at Findhorn are trying to lure us in, to get us to love them so much we can't complain when they hit us with the tough stuff...

The first week we were here was our introduction to the community. This week was a transition between community life and academics. We still don't have homework. They told us not to get used to that, and then to soften us up before the weekend they took us to a whiskey distillery and then a cave on the shore. (They're also fattening us up quite nicely; it's amazing what these cooks can do with beans, wheat and vegetables.) They must be up to something.


We visited the Benromath whiskey distillery, which I actually thoroughly enjoyed. I think if I liked relaxation of the induced variety, whiskey would be a good way to do it. I wish I could tell you exactly what this large red "chimney" does, but isn't it magnificent to look at?



Two of my favorite new companions: Dragonfly (who told me a wonderful bedtime story to help me sleep last night) and one of our professors, David McNamara, both very happy to be at the distillery. I just love these pictures...


We got a tour of the inner workings of the whole place. We were shown how barley is made into malt and the malt becomes grist which is fermented and processed to produce a clear whiskey. This is where the evaporation comes in - the stills. (I hope you all appreciate the picture, it's the only one I could get inside the distillery before he told us that "yes, the signs on the wall that say 'no photos' apply to you too".)


Interesting Fact: all scotch/whiskey is initially clear as water. What gives it its color is the barrels, most of which are White Oak imported from the United States. The barrels in the U.S. are always used for 3-6 years to keep bourbon (often in Kentucky) before they're flattened and shipped to Scotland. The color of the bourbon combined with the vanilla flavor and color of the wood soaks into the whiskey, which can sit in the barrel for 5 to 50 years. Other barrels come from Spain and used to contain sherry. Mixing the bourbon and sherry whiskeys in different proportions (50/50, 80/20 etc.) gives Benromach its multiple variations.

As fascinating as I think this is, it's a little disheartening that a relatively small distrillery in the Scottish highlands has to import all its barrels, but our guide said white oak was the only kind of wood that would hold the whiskey the way they wanted it... it's still quite a shame.


Not so much of a shame, however, that it could keep me from taking part in the free samples we all received at the end of the tour. I am proud to say I finished my generous helping without incident, and tried it with and without water. I preferred it with. Don't I feel cultured.
(She didn’t have any whiskey, she’s just very tired. I promise.)

Afterward we went to a Scottish shore – I think the pictures speak for themselves.







Much love!

Elizabeth