So I Was Destined to be a Farmer

Day 63: Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Drive into Indiana

Bidding adieu to the Yamamoto clan was hard; you could not ask for a wackier, friendlier, smarter, and sweeter family. But onward we trekked, with a brief stop on a farm out in Illinois.
There sure is something beautiful about seeing those endless fields of corn, enormous silos, rundown barns, and hearty people. The ability to look out your window and see with your own eyes your claim in this world is the source of tremendous pride. Your responsibility for your land and your family creates the necessity for understanding and listening to how the earth sustains and how the animals thrive and the art of self-reliance.
We spent the night in Lafayette, Indiana in a giant field, nursing a giant tub of Oreo frozen custard.

Days 64-65: Wednesday September 8, 2010 -Thursday, September 9, 2010

Indy KOA

The following morning we drove to Indianapolis and spent the next couple of days relaxing and recovering, readjusting to life on the road once more. We stocked up on staples like cheese and celery, went swimming at the pool, and indulged in some UNO and Quibbler. I pumped out some college essays and introduced Matthew to the elliptical and stationary bike. That boy really loved working out with me.

Goodbye, Lois

My aunt and godmother, Lois, died on Sunday morning, September 19th. It was a bit of a surprise to the family since she had seemed stable when my dad saw her just a few days earlier, on Thursday. She even ate an entire meal for him. We weren't expecting it for a couple more weeks.
And so I bid farewell to my Aunt Lois. Ironic the timing of your passing, Lois. The whole family was getting ready for church when we all received the news of your death. It seems that on Sunday morning you beat us to the ultimate worship service of all--with all the believers in heaven:

"Then I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: 'Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.' " (Revelations 7:9-10)

Goodbye, dear Lois. You were the best godmother, role model, and example of what it means to be a Christian. I am sad at my loss but happy for you. Goodbye--for now.

Ode to My Godmother

Lois is one-of-a kind. A rare bird. An unusual breed. Always cheerful, she has almost seemed Pollyannish at times, except that in her struggle with cancer the past two months, her continued peacefulness and joyfulness have touched everyone. Her cancer has progressed so rapidly that she's now in a comatose state and it's only a matter of weeks before she passes. Both the discovery of her cancer and her passing will occur while we are one our trip, and I am so very, very thankful that I—we--got to see her while she was still alert and responsive. You see, Lois is not just a unique person; she's my aunt, and my godmother.

My godmother, Lois, has always been one of my heroes. When I was a child & teenager, I wanted to be just like her. She went to Africa as a missionary in her mid-twenties, became fluent in Swahili, lived and served in Tanzania for 38 years, and loved Tanzania with her whole being. She gave up the possibility of marriage and family in order to remain faithful to her call and work there. Lois wouldn't call herself a feminist because she and the other female colleagues she had in Tanzania didn't think in those terms. But that they were strong women is something no one can doubt. And, so, I always viewed remaining single, focused, committed, and dedicated to serving overseas as the ultimate goal. Marrying, having a family, remaining in the U.S., was a worthwhile lifestyle but it was wimping out to me. I wanted to be like my godmother, Lois.

As far as godmothers go, Lois is one of the best. For as long as I can remember, I have received birthday & Christmas cards from her. As I grew up, her writing expanded to include personal letters, cards for other holidays, and postcards from exotic locations. Most of my international doll collection came from her travels around the world. Years of faithful correspondence, despite my miserable record of reciprocating. She visited me regularly, no matter where in the U.S. I was living. She was always there; faithful, reliable, constant, with her words of love and support. So regular that one could take her for granted. Of course there will be a card in the mailbox from Aunt Lois. Until now.

When Matthew and I visited her in January, I commented to my other aunt (her sister) that I had a strong sense that I wouldn't have much more time with my godmother. “Lois?” Auntie Gloria replied, “she'll be around a long time--into her 90s.” Old age runs in the family. Not for everyone.

Lois had her quirky, eccentric side, too. She loved to stay uip late reading which meant that she had the infamous habit of nodding off on you in the middle of a conversation. But that was . . . just Lois. She was as naïve as a child. Was it from being in Africa so long—she was caught in some kind of 1950s time warp? Or was it her? Our family never could figure that one out. It was . . . just Lois. But she loved people. So she was generous to a fault. She gave money to anyone and everyone who asked. She was also usually late. But when one went looking for her, she could often be found conversing with another traveler, shopkeeper, or waitress, having the time of her life. There were no strangers to Lois; every person she encountered was a new friend. That was . . . just Lois.

And so I write of my godmother. Auntie Lois, you're an amazing woman and have always been a role model for me. Thank you for being such a wonderful godmother all these decades. We will grieve at your passing and miss you terribly. But I know that you will be with the Lord Jesus—your Best Friend, your Sustainer, your Savior, and so we will also be joyful for you. I hope you have a blast, Lois. I know you will.

Love,

Cindy

Friends in Chicago - Old and New

It was sad for me to leave Minnesota: my three brothers & sisters-in-law, nephews & nieces, cousins, aunts & uncle, knowing we won't see them until next summer. When I was in my 20s, we had forever to connect with one another but, by now, life is going by too quickly. Once a year is so little time. The nephews and nieces are growing up so quickly. Death is already taking the generation just above me. They say that family becomes more important as you grow older. I think “they” are right.

But despite sad farewells in Minnesota, we had joyous reunions in the Chicago area. First we visited Bob and Faye Anderson, friends from China. They taught at Xiamen University when I studied there 20 years ago. Bob and Faye just retired to the U.S. one year ago—in their late 80's! It was a treat to see Sarengerl, their Mongolian-Chinese “daughter” at the same time.

Next we visited Genzo and Ellen Yamamoto, friends from Yale days. Genzo is a professor of history at Wheaton College and Ellen is homeschooling their two wonderful children. Matthew and their daughter, Erica, hit it off immediately and had such a great time engagin in fantasy role play that I was solemnly instructed that we were to return to Chicago again so that we could visit the Yamamotos soon.

Chicago was great. Best of all was The Field Museum of Natural History. If you ever go to Chicago, you must visit the museum! But give yourself two days; it's huge. But best of all, we got to meet Sue! The real Sue, not just a cast model of Sue! Who?, you may ask. Sue: the largest and most complete T-Rex ever excavated. She is a beauty! The rest of the museum—the little we saw—was also fascinating.

En route to Indiana, we stopped by a really old friend's house: Lorene Garlick Franklin. Lorene and I go back to fourth grade. We were majorettes (baton) together in 7th-9^th grades. (My mom was our instructor & coach!) We hadn't seen each other since 11th grade! Was it ever fun to catch up. Someone had even recently posted an old picture of us at a performance on Facebook. Hilarious.

Farewell Chicago. Farewell Sue. Farewell dear friends. It was lovely to see all of you!

Land of Ten Thousand Lakes

When it comes to summer, no place I've been to can beat Minneapolis/St. Paul for sheer beauty and outdoor activities. There are warm lakes with sandy beaches and green grasses. Swimming, canoeing, sailing, fishing—take your pick. Trees, walking trails and bike trails circle each of the lakes. Music wafts from each lake's bandshell on warm, humid summer evenings. Trails, concerts, and bistros line the Mississippi River as it flows through the center of the Twin Cities. Lush lawns and vegetable gardens fill neighborhoods, showing off the rich, fertile soil. Ah, Twin Cities, place of my birth, how I love you in the summer.

Having said all that, we did much of that during our three weeks in Minnesota. We went swimming at a lake just blocks from my brother Steve's home and on a 9-mile bike ride around three of the lakes near their home. All with the cousins: Hannah (almost 10), Caedmon (6), and Indya (3), of course. Jodi, my sister-in-law, and I discussed homeschooling which she will be starting this fall. We also got to hear more about their family's time in Cambodia and Laos in October 2009, where Steve taught doctors and residents at a pediatric hospital. We picnicked and explored the Mississippi River with my brother, Jeff, and his family (the Mississippi River's headwaters are in northern Minnesota). We went biking and swimming with Esther (9) and Micah (9.5), Jeff & Elaine's children, and enjoyed evenings with their parents. We ate from their gardens. We celebrated my brother Michael's new home which he and his wife, Colleen had just moved into, and their return from the countryside in Wisconsin back to the Twin Cities. They've been through an unbelievably rough past few years so we celebrated God's faithfulness with them in their return home. And we said goodbye to Emily (18) as she headed off to Concordia College. Matthew really enjoyed getting to play Settlers of Catan with his 3 big cousins: Emily (18.5), Alicia (16.5), and Jordan (14.5). An Irish Festival with Jeff & his family and a big Native American Pow Wow rounded out our time with some great cross-cultural experiences. We saw cousins, aunts, and uncles—both Matthew's and mine. It was very rewarding getting to see all of the relatives this time.

One of the highlights of our time in Minnesota was getting to visit my aunt Lois in Duluth (in northern Minnesota on the tip of Lake Superior). I went up to Duluth twice to see her: the first time she was still able to get around somewhat so, being a beautiful summer day, we went down to the park by Lake Superior, relished some good ol' Dairy Queen junk food, and savored the moments together, outdoors, away from the sterile environment of the nursing home. A few days later, I went back up with Michael and we found her unable to get out of bed but still alert mentally. Michael and I were able to get an hour's worth of video of her reminiscing about her life in Africa. That was a goal of our trip so we were thrilled to have it, especially since, one week later, she was already in a comatose state.

Finally, of course, we unpacked, did laundry, cleaned out the car, replenished our food supplies with trips to Costco and Trader Joe's, repacked, and got ready for the next phase of our trip. Oh yes, and took the car in to get the air conditioning fixed. I knew it wasn't a matter of replacing the freon because of how the ac suddenly stopped working. But I certainly didn't expect the $1600 charge to replace the entire system. That was one travel expense that we hadn't planned on, given that the car is only 3 years old. But, there was no alternative so we had to bite the bullet. If that's the only repair we have during this 9-10,000 mile trip, that won't be so bad. Thankfully, there have been no accidents.

So, with sadness at the separation but full hearts from our rich time together, we bid farewell to our family in Minnesota and headed east to Wisconsin and Illinois.

Bunkin' in Minnesnowta

Days 37-56: Thursday, August 12, 2010-Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Extended Family in Minnesota

We have been laying low and recuperating in the Twin Cities for quite a while now, fixing and unpacking and cleaning and repacking the car. The three of us were a wee bit tuckered out from the first leg, after all. We are restocking our provisions, doing laundry, organizing, and sleeping. But most importantly, we have spent time with family.
Our first two days in Minneapolis were spent with Aunt Jodi, and the cousins Hannah, Caedmon, and Indya, and Uncle Steve in the evenings. I was promptly jumped on, attacked, bitten, spanked, dragged downstairs, tied up, tortured, and photographed by the three cousins that first morning. Good morning Baltimore.
The rest of the time we spent seeing Auntie Cindy's godmother, Aunt Lois; our Aunt Gloria and Uncle Denny in Duluth; Uncle Jeff and Aunt Elaine and their kids Esther and Micah; Uncle Michael and Aunt Colleen and their kids Emily, Alicia, and Jordan; Uncle Ron; Cousin Kelly; Cousin Kevin; Grandpa and Grandma Swanson; Aunt Kathy; and the Kellys. We went to an Irish Fair, an Indian pow wow, the Minnesota State Fair, and Canal Park. Among us, we rode on one of the five alpine coasters in the States, and went biking, swimming, and hiking. Auntie and I also toured Macalester College in St. Paul. The days have been packed but relaxed.
More details about our time in Minnesota will be posted when we have the time.
We depart the Twin Cities for Chicago in a few hours, via Wisconsin. Minnesota, it's been lovely!

Goodbye South Dakota...Forever

Day 36: Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Badlands Loop, Drive to Minneapolis

One distinct negative (if unrelated) side effect of our visit to Bear Country USA soon surfaced: our AC unit was completely and undeniably busted. This of course was simply fabulous, as we were driving through South Dakota, where it was getting up to 100 degrees and no shade existed. Today in particular, we had to drive clear across South Dakota and much of Minnesota to arrive in Minneapolis tonight—a solid day's drive, with no AC.

Seeing the Badlands definitely presented me with the surreal feeling that I was glimpsing the sea floor devoid of water—which is exactly what it was. The distinct striations of sediment, the smooth curves of the peaks, and the vivid colors of the rock were unexpectedly beautiful, even in the oppressive heat.

Heading out of the Badlands, I was pulled over by a police officer for going a whopping seven miles per hour above the speed limit, even though I was maintaining the flow of traffic. He was going to let me off with a warning, but when confronted with my California Driver's Permit, he seized up, furrowed his brow, and brought it back with him to his car and began muttering into his walkie. Minutes later, he reported that he had radioed his dispatcher, who had called 'someone in California' and nothing had come back on my license. So he wrote me up a citation for driving without a license and saddled me with a court summons to Tadoka, South Dakota for September 16th, or he puts out a warrant for my arrest in South Dakota. He then proceeded to bring me into the car with him as he wrote up said citation, and told me his life story--his ambitions in life, his high school career, his upbringing, his college, his stint with the army, his love of power--for a good fifteen minutes. All in all, it was a strange and traumatizing moment for me.

The rest of the day was studded with frequent stops to splash our bodies with cold water, to buy more ice, to coax a breeze into the blazing car. By the time we arrived in Minneapolis, we were all absolutely disgusting, all caked in dust and dirt and sweat and grime. Poor Aunt Jodi and Uncle Steve.

It sure was heart-warming to see them again. For me, it had been a whopping 11 years since I had seen them last. I had never met any of their three kids, and all of a sudden we were staying with them. I'm sure my anxiety showed, so on top of being sweaty and smelly and neurotic, add pain-stricken to the list. I am notorious for making poor first impressions.