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I must apologize for the lack of congruency of some of these blogs. I actually started writing these at the beginning of 2006. These were only blogcasted through a closed circuit of e-mail friends who every now and then responded. I tried to keep as many responses as possible. But unfortunately many have been lost. This at times will make some blogs seem kind of chopped up.
If you are offended or insulted by the content of any of these blogs, my apologies. But then again, perhaps it is just what you needed!
Also if you find your name in any of these blogs I am obviously talking about somebody else with the same name. You’re not the center of the universe you know. Gaud!!!
Proper spelling is not something that I have ever really understood. I really do not know how this particular activity ever came into existence. Therefore I do not participate.

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Rusty the Baby

Rusty the Baby
My first blog!

Three Religiions

Three Religiions
Facing the wall

Wed., Feb.3, 2010:Tree planting and Naughty Leftism up the Holler.

As of late i have been under pressure from friends as well as my wife to relate my latest experiences on the mountain just behind my home where I live. As I am feeling the pressure to perform this might be somewhat dry.
Anywho last Sunday in the early morning I was awakened by the community loudspeaker making an announcement. Tammy rolled over and nudged me saying "You better find out what that was all about." and then rolled over and went back to sleep. She was referring to the fact that we have had several conversations on how we need to get more involved in the local community water syndicate/cooperative. Unfortunately Tammy and I do not speak Quechua, which is the local language most spoken in our community as well as the language in which the the announcements are made in. I had to find some help. So I called up a good friend of mine who is one of the water syndicate directors for some assistance. Over the the crackling Bolivian telephone system I her Don Eusebio's sleepy voice say "'alo". I then presented my query and was responded "Oh no today there is no meeting. We are doing a tree planting day. So you are going to have to send somebody to represent the Firestone Family. If you want you should talk to Don Francisco and offer him some money and he can go for you." I got off the phone and sat there for a moment. Then I decided "Hey, my body seems to be working as of late! Why don't I go and do it myself?" And that is just what I did.
After my morning egg, toast, and tea, I donned my hiking boots (which I have trusted for almost 15 years now) a pair of cargo khakis, a hat and weather shell. Then I was out to the shed to grab a pick to be on my way.
When I arrived at the forestry station (which is also the irrigation control center where there are various reservoir tanks all nestled in a small forest of eucalyptus trees) about a quarter click above my house I was surprised to see not only was the community gathered but also a platoon of soldiers from one of the local units. Everybody was gathered around a woman with a clip board standing above what looked to be about 700 to a 1000 pine and eucalyptus saplings. Most of the locals were there with their own implements but the syndicate was also handing out new picks to the soldiers. The commander barked out orders causing the soldiers to march forward grab a pick and pack 15 sapling's into a large sack that each one had. There was also a separate line for us civilians. When I joined this line I was told that I as well had to choose 15 of my own saplings at the registration point. Upon hearing this I then informed the people around me that I had no idea that I would be hauling my own trees as this was my first experience with this particular project. The check-in woman said "You have time to go home and get something."
Slightly frustrated I began my trip home. I got down about 30 metres and turned the corner around the first reservoir tank and ran into Don Eusebio. In my surprise I said "I thought you would be sending somebody?"
He said with a smile "Oh no I am one of the directors. People will start saying things if I don't show up!"
"Well I am on my way down to get a bag as we have to carry 15 sapling a piece...oh and you will need a bag as well because you only are bringing a pick." I grunted,
Don Eusebio proclaimed "15 that is an outrage! Never mind the bag boy. Come with me."
Upon arrival back at the group meeting place Don Eusebio turned to me with a wink "I'll show you how we do this. Now always wait at the back of the line chatting with your neighbor friends until most of the trees are gone" This is what we did. We leaned on our picks chit-chatting while Don Eudebio introduced me to the neighbors. Then at what seemed to be a random point in time I was indicated to move forward following my guide. Don Eusebio smiling to the woman with the writing pad "We have no bags so we will just have to carry what we can in our hands. So that will probably be 5 or so a piece" That was when I got the bright idea of taking my shell off to use a sappling transportation tool. "Hey look what I'm doing Don Eusebio. Now we can carry a lot more than that. Man I am such an idiot that I did not think of this before! :-D" I was given a not so congratulatory look from my guide.
So we loaded up 20 trees and started up the hill as the others were doing the same. Then my guide turned to me and said "Here is what we'll do. Well will start planting here at the bottom and let the rest of those fools carry their trees all the way up there. Hee-hee!" Unfortunately the going was not all that easy as the particular location where we were was already over populated with trees and the only open areas were very rocky. This discovery made Don Eusebio change his plans. "It looks as if we will have to be going up higher then."
As he walked ahead of me carrying our picks and I the swaddled remaining 15 trees Don Eusebio would greet all the locals on their way down "Oh I see you have already completed you community task comrade. Good for you. We have only a few more trees to plant ourselves. We have just planted about 16 or so trees toward the bottom and decided because of the overpopulation down there it would only fair to Pachamama that we plant in the areas where there are less trees. Is that not right Rusty"
Rusty "Well, I...uuuh..you know..."
"By the way this is Dr. Firestone. You know the guy who is the director of the projects that brings doctors from North America?'
The Comrade "Well, I ...uuuh...sure!"
At this point they both started speaking in Quechua and Don Eusebio started nodding profusely. He turned to me and said "The Comrade just told me that if we follow this trail about 30 meters and then take a sharp left directly up that hill over yonder there are a whole bunch of old holes from the last project where people planted trees and the trees dried up. We just find these holes and we will not have to dig hardly at all we just plug the trees in and cave the hole in. Hee-hee! "
So that is how we planted our last trees. On the way back down the hill Don Eusebio triumphantly announced to all the other beginner tree planters "If you go up that hill over there you will find a bunch of holes to plant in. That is what we did." He did this repeatedly all the way back to the forestry station. When we finally sat down to rest he said "I sent so many people up that hill they will all be bumping asses just trying to find holes. Hee-hee!" Interestingly enough Eusebio is not a man given to puns or irony.
It was then one of the other syndicate director friends of Don Eusebio came up with an old Seven-Up bottle full of thick purple liquid. I said "Oh that's the stuff you drink with bunuelos (a type Bolivian fry bread)". The director chuckled and spoke in Quechua "Blah-blah-blah api" Which later I found out he said "Heh-heh. The gringo thinks I am giving him api (a Bolivian warmed morning drink)." When I lifted the glass to my lips I found the error of my thinking. It was not api at all but in fact chicha (a corn brewed indigenous alcohol)! this is an ancient drink that has been drank by the local Native Americans since before the time of the ancient Incas. It is served into a gourd bowl usually and the recipient then as part of the toast is to swish it around enough till it splashes out on the ground as to offer the Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) the first drink so the trees will grow strong and healthy.
I said with slight surprise to my error "Whatever...pour me another."

FeO2