Beard

I'm growing a beard for the first time in my life... some have asked to see pictures, so here we go!

Tea with Bashir

Today I felt like a real farmer.

We began the day weeding and thinning four long rows of carrots--strange to have to remove so many growing carrots so that the whole rest of the bed can thrive; we then moved on to planting a bed of lettuce, which felt like a nice juxtaposition to the "plantacide" we'd been committing! Just then, it began to rain in earnest for the first time since I arrived here some 10 days ago.

While a few people stayed in the greenhouse to work, two other folks and I headed out the new field in our rain gear to plant eggplant and serrano peppers. In a little over an hour, we planted about 130 plants in the pouring rain. At a certain point of wetness, you're just wet, and more rain can't make you wetter. We hit that point about 15 minutes in, and it honestly felt great. By the end, my jeans were caked from top to bottom in mud (not sure quite how to clean them!), and my hands were just mud pies. I felt like a kid again, only this time, I was SUPPOSED to play in the mud! We got the work done, and returned to camp to dry out and wolf down some lunch.

This afternoon we mostly spent in the greenhouse "potting up" tiny basil and tomato plants which were started about a month ago from seed and were ready to be put into slightly larger containers. Soon, they, too, will be ready for the field. We also started some more tomatoes and squash from seed in tiny little plastic holders, and placed them under a heat light to accelerate their growth. Finally, I harvested some lettuce, garlic scapes, green onions, sugar snap peas, and strawberries for Bashir, as promised. So we really experienced the whole planting cycle today, from seed to small plant, from medium plant to the ground, from thinning the ground to harvest-- a pretty awesome day!

The day ended with a trip first to the bike shop and then to Bashir's house-- so hard to believe that that was just 6 days ago! He greeted me warmly; we exchanged bikes and I gave him the produce; we shared some tea and warm wishes, and I was on my way. I had decided not to tell him about the blown tire; my friends here suggested I could tell him about the tune-up, but it just never came up, and I didn't want to boast about it. Curious what y'all think about that decision...

A good, damp day... Supposed to be dry tomorrow. I'm off to figure out out to wash my clothes...

Lailah tov!

Call me "The Salad Spinner"

I've decided that that is going to be my professional wrestling name, should I decide to pursue that endeavor as a career. I have spun approximately 45 pounds of lettuce in the past 9 days; I think I've earned the title!

Today I had the privilege of watering the entire new field by with a hose-- 500 tomato plants, and a similar number of squash and melon plants. It was pretty amazing, actually; Sonia and I made a good team moving the hose across 5 fields, each 200 yards or more long. Then when we returned to the greenhouse, I got to water all the plants there.

I'm always amazed by the softness of a baby's feet-- uncalloused and smooth. My feet, on the other hand, are lumpy and bumpy and calloused-- no fun at all. But lest I think my feet are hard as a rock, another strange bit of perspective I gained today: I still have the feet of a baby.
Many of the folks who work on the farm have a habit of walking barefoot all over the place. This skill also came in handy on the pilgrimage, when we walked through streams and those same folks could simply take their shoes off and walk across the rocky stream bed; when I tried that then, I ended up walking like a gorilla with my hands on the ground because the rocks hurt my feet so much.

I decided that today was the day I was going to get my "farm feet" going. We were mulching tomato plants with hay, and I joined some others in taking my shoes and socks off. It was glorious to walk through the rich and soft soil as we lay the bales of hay out bit by bit to keep the weeds away. And walking through the grass was wonderful, too. But the wood chips, the rocks, the hot cement in the greenhouse-- oy, vey! Dan (my tent mate) and others are walking around like its nothing, and my feet feel like I'm walking on hot coals!

Just when I began to feel hopeless, I asked Dan how long it took before his feet stopped hurting. "Actually, they still do, sometimes," he said. "It's mostly a mental thing, getting used to the idea not everything you walk on will be smooth." Well, then.

Tomorrow, "The Salad Spinner" begins his mental preparations to walk on hot coals!

Day 8--A Plot of My Own

Today was the first "normal schedule" day-- 6:30 meditation/study, 7- 9 a.m. work in the field, 9 a.m. breakfast, 10 a.m to 1 p.m. in the field, 1-3 lunch and siesta, 3-4 meeting with various farm professionals to learn about the trade, and 4-6 back in the field-- I am totally exhausted!

We picked out our own plots on the farm today to pay special attention to, and I drew plot 2, also known as Exodus. Appropriate for a sabbatical journey, I suppose! The plot has chard, kale, spinach, sugar snap peas, carrots, and lettuce, for now. I spent much of the day weeding in the pea patch, which was quite difficult but rewarding work-- it was nice to see the beginning, middle, and end of a project.

I got to operate the roto-tiller today, which was amazingly cool. I'm frankly not sure whether I was operating it, or it was operating me-- it's a big, powerful machine!

I felt almost immediately proprietary towards the plot-- work time ended at 6 p.m., but I stayed till 6:30 to uncover the kale and to begin to weed it. I look forward to seeing what will happen in the next few weeks to the plot...

Bashir's Bike, or The Keystone Cops Strike Again

On the third day of the pilgrimage, we broke camp at Roy's farm, an amazing educational farm started by one of Jakir's buddies, and headed out on a 15 mile bike ride that would triumphantly end our journey in Baltimore's Inner Harbor.

About five miles into the trek, we hit a patch of glass on the road, and my front tire and the back tire of the bike (riden by Carly) behind me blew. The whole group pulled over, and we began to assess the situation in the 95-degree heat. What was immediately evident was how unprepared we were for the problems we faced. We had a bike repair kit to patch holes, but no bike pump with which to refill the tires, and no replacement tubes if they were beyond repair. Tiferet, one of the Kayam staff members, began to go door to door in the neighborhood looking for a pump, while another staffer headed back to the farm where we had left a pump with the rest of our gear that was to be transported for us back to Pearlstone.

Tiferet soon found a guy named Bashir who had a pump and generously offered for us to use it. Meanwhile, another guy on our trip named Alex-- an expert hydrologist who was along to teach us about the watershed-- got to work dissembling our two busted bike wheels. Tiferet and Bashir camp back with the pump, which it turns out, wouldn't work on Carly's patched tire because the tire had a funky fancy valve. Meanwhile, the pump would have worked on my tire but we could not could not could not find the hole in my tire no matter what we did! And meanwhile the rest of the group was growing impatient and we had an appointment at the Science Museum and a reservation at a cool restaurant named Liquid Earth and another appointment to sail in the Chesapeake Bay to top off the day. And meanwhile, Alex was coming back with a pump we knew would at least fill Carly's tire.

So the rest of the group headed off. And just as they did, a random car pulled up, and out jumped a guy we learned was named Jimmy. Jimmy hopped out of the car and immediately went his trunk with a purpose-- he understood at least part of our predicament right away. He pulled a fancy-shmancy bike pump out of his trunk, and got to work on Carly's tire.

Meanwhile, Carly has gotten into a deep one-to-one conversation with Bashir, who had decided to just hang around and watch the proceedings.We later learned that Bashir is a refugee from Afghanistan; he left after the war broke out in 2002.

Jimmy fixed Carly's tire and puts it back on her bike. He saw me struggling with my tire, and offered to help, but he couldn't find the hole, either. Perhaps it's a slow leak, we wishfully said together. Alex arrived with the group pump just as Jimmy and I were reassembling my tire, hoping against hope that if we refilled it with air, it would hold for a few miles, and we could just keep refilling it. But no sooner do we fill it than it's flat again. Jimmy throws his hands up, just as Bashir says, "would you like to borrow my bike?" I look at Carly, Carly looks at Alex, Alex looks at Jimmy, Jimmy looks at me, as if to say, "is he serious?"

"I'm serious," says Bashir. "I don't need it for a bit-- take it, and I'll hold onto your bike. You can return it when you can."

We're stunned at the kind offer, and, having no other good options, we agree, promising to return the bike with a large share of local, organic vegetables. Bashir brings his bike across the street; he hasn't used it since last fall, so the tires are low on air. We refill the tires, thank Jimmy profusely as he heads out in his car, thank Bashir profusely, exchange contact information with him, and jump on our bikes. An amazing affirmation of my belief that most people, given the opportunity, will do the right thing most of the time.

If only the story ended there.

We ride fast, mostly downhill, intending to catch up with the group. Not 2 miles down the road, I hear a BANG. "Oh, no, oh, no oh no!" I cry. The back tire of Bashir's bike had blown out! This time, there appeared to be no glass on the road, nothing that should have made the tire explode. The three of us got off our bikes laughing so hard we were crying...

An already long story short, we decided that God was trying to send me some kind of message; we sent Alex off with the pump to catch up with the group (in case someone ELSE blew a tire!), and Carly and I caught a bus downtown (an experience in and of itself-- I now know how to operate those funky bike racks on the front of city buses!) and met up with the group at the end of their ride.

I missed not being able to ride the whole trail-- everyone said it was beautiful, and perhaps I'll have a chance to ride it again some other time this summer. But it was Carly who really inspired me to see the blessing in all of the mess-- it was the moment when the tires blew, when the wheels fell off, as it were. that the genuine adventure began. It was the moment when we got to meet real neighborhood people who saw nothing except folks who needed a hand, a pump, some help-- and were willing to give the bike off their own lot.

Postscript: Everyone asked if we walked back to return the bike to Bashir when the wheel blew--we didn't. I just couldn't bring myself to bring back his generous gift in worse shape than when we got it... Joe's Bike Shop in Baltimore is giving Bashir's bike a full tune-up in addition to replacing the tire before I bring it back to him Wednesday or Thursday this week; perhaps I'll have more to report after that reunion!

Day 6: A Shabbat Like No Other

What a beautiful day Shabbat was; almost no technology, no obligations, no watch-- just quiet, nature, listening to my body, and hours of open conversation with a great mix of folks. If only I could have shared the day with my beautiful family who I miss so much... it would have been a fuller taste of heaven.

Friday night after a long pre-Shabbat song session and a so-so prayer experience, a few of us went out into a field to view a far-off lightening storm. It was the kind of night that looked totally overcast, but when the lightening lit up the horizon, we could see the layers of clouds for a flash of a moment. Complimenting that beautiful view above the horizon, below was the farm, lit up intermittently with thousands of blinking lightening bugs-- a stunning combination we watched for nearly an hour.

I slept what felt like late, ate some cereal in silence (most others must still have been asleep!), and went for a walk on the 2.2 mile Loop Trail that circumnavigates the Pearlstone center and the adjacent JCC camp. I spent a good two hours slowly making my way around this beautiful trail; it hugs the edges of the fields and buildings, but briliantly makes you feel as if you're in the middle of nowhere. Never more than 100 yards from the "settled" property, one rarely sees formal signs of civilization. Pretty cool. Occasional signage to spark reflection (if one is alone) or conversation about nature and our affect on it. A huge downed tree leaves the sky cut open of foliage as well; the space is called "the open classroom" and was a great place to sit and read and listen to the birds and the stream running behind that beautiful space. I saw a box turtle and a baby deer and countless species of insect and bird. Towards the end of the trail is the low ropes course used by the JCC camp-- hoping to share some of those bits with Lys and the boys when they come.

I focused my energy on being in the moment. I napped when I was sleepy, I ate when I was hungry. I sat with a few folks intending to eat lunch, and four hours later I finally excused myself after long and beautiful discussions about loss, emotion, parashat Shelach Lecha, and who-knows-what else. After a snack and a shluf, I returned to the table for another long conversation about mechitza and the pros and cons of gender-divided study and prayer.

By that time, it was nearly time for havdallah and a rocking song session. So many talented musicians here-- there a far more instruments than people, which is kind of funny. We're going to sing our way through the summer...

Someone asked me late yesterday how different this was than Shabbat back home; it could hardly have been more different. I miss my family and miss my prayer community for sure; not sure I'll get what I need in the prayer department with this diverse chevreh, but I'll do what I need to do for myself while learning a lot from others about their spiritual practice. Last night I was wondering what elements, what flavors, what spices of this Shabbat I might be able to claim for myself, my family, and my community back home. I'm not clear at all yet; glad I have 3 or 4 more opportunities to think about that one. All I know is, I want more of the same, as much as I can. It was good.

Days 3, 4, and 5: The Chesapeake Watershed Pilgrimage

What if I were the smelly person on the bus?

Wow. I really am 40, and I feel every bit of it.

What would it be like to jump off this cliff, swing on this rope swing, and fall 25 feet into that river?

How wonderful it is, and how much easier than I thought it would be, to let go and let God...

What if I decided that I wanted to swim under a rushing waterfall, just to see what's under there?

I wonder if God is trying to send me a sign with this--my second flat bicycle tire in a little over a mile?

These and many other wonderful and bizarre thoughts popped into my head over the past three days as we hiked 17 miles, canoed 8 miles, and biked 10 miles (well, almost biked-that story to come later) down this bit of the 7 state long Chesapeake Watershed. We ended today with a beautiful but rain-shortened sail on the Bay.

I am as tired as I can ever remember; I just took one of the longest showers of my life to wipe away least the first few layers of the grime I accumulated (a little less grime having had some of it washed away by a rushing waterfall and that 25 foot plunge into the river!); but I am so happy to have participated in this beautiful, extremely challenging journey. We went from dipping our water bottles into the river to refill them (so clean was the river upstream) to not being able to even swim in the bay the river empties into (so polluted is the bay). We visited two amazing organic farms, each started by buddies of Jakir. There are so many stories to tell, but right now, I must to bed. No rest for the weary-- 5 more hours of harvesting tomorrow beginning at 8 a.m...  Shabbat is coming...

More tomorrow. For now, here are some pictures from the pilgrimage:

                   An amazing berry bush we couldn't quite reach, so Dan stood on Yakir's back and pulled the  branch down so we could feast!

Morning haze over the campsite

Our sailing ship on the Chesapeake Bay--we made it!

Raising the sail

My poor but happy feet!