Stumptown

I have been in Portland already for a week, and I am squeezing some writing between 2 appointments. I am exhausted - and numb. People ask me how it feels to be back - and frankly I don't know. I have been in a daze ever since I got off the plane, 25 hours after leaving my home in Zuoz. For the first 2 days I blamed the trip for my tiredness. Then I got a stomach bug and lost my appetite for a couple of days. Barely recovered from that I had major dental work done - and for the last 24 hours have moved around in a pain-killer induced fog. In all, I have never felt like myself since arriving. Living in a house that is not mine (Marianne's), learning to get around without a car (thank you my dear friends who have given me rides over the last few days: Eric, Jill, Marianne, Katherine, Rosine, Ernst, Jody, Larry, Ken, Hannah, Ron, Velma), dealing with many appointments and paperwork, it is all taking up much energy. I alternate less fun appointments with outings and meals with friends and I think I have struck a good balance - except there is no time for myself alone until I collapse at night - hence no time to write. This blog has become addictive. I have gotten used to periodically taking some time out to reflect over the previous few days, and when I don't take time to stop and assess where I am at, I feel like I am losing myself. I gradually go on autopilot instead of consciously following a thread. Since I was a child writing has been both a joy and therapeutic - now more than ever.

So, frankly, I don't know how it feels to be back. I hope to soon snap out of my lethargy - after all, one of the goals of this trip is to find out how it feels to be back in Portland. Everything definitely feels very comfortable. Coming from a dry climate and rather stark landscape, I feel somewhat overwhelmed by the vegetation that seems to be taking over the yards and the streets. Portland has had a miserable summer, which translates into much humidity -the ideal condition for vigorous growth! Surprisingly little has changed over the last 9 months and therefore it doesn't feel like I have been gone so long. I don't have a routine, but then I haven't had one since I lost the job, so I am also used to that feeling. I was apprehensive about seeing my house, but I couldn't let this fear prevent me from visiting my neighbors. In the end I even had to step into my house, as I had an issue to discuss with my tenants. It felt a little strange - nothing more. Despite the numbness, I am very moved by the support of my friends. I feel like everybody is going out of their way (literally) to spend some time with me and to help me.

I ran into the first acquaintance at Dulles Airport, waiting for my connecting flight to Portland: Tom, with whom I have been working on various issues since 1995. I had barely gone through immigration and already I was in the midst of a political discussion. I loved it! On my first morning as I was waiting for a bus, a car stopped at the nearby light started honking: a neighbor - who didn't even know I was in town! And just this afternoon, I again was waiting for the bus at the same stop, when a car pulled over and the door opened: Ron, who was in Zuoz just 10 days ago! Note that this is a major 4 lane highway and the odds that a friend would drive by just as I stand there are less than remote! Nevertheless, these coincidences made me feel that my ties to Portland still are very strong.

Getting around with public transportation requires much planning. I discovered that the buses run noticeably less frequently now and the days when I could just walk to the stop and wait for the next one are over. An additional problem is that they sometimes run several minutes ahead of schedule, with dramatic consequences, especially on a Sunday, when they run only once an hour. While I don't fear for my safety, my fellow passengers can be intimidating: today I boarded a Max car full of rather unkempt men dressed in dark clothing and accompanied by fierce dogs.

While it is fun to reconnect with friends one-on-one, I also enjoy reinserting myself into groups like the aquarobics class and yoga. Despite the rain, I have been able to go on some of my favorite walks: Pittock Mansion where we ran into a group of birders looking for a warbler that usually doesn't venture west of the Mississippi, Forest Park, Council Crest... Finding out that Margaret Atwood has a new book out provided the excuse to drop in at Powell's. Marianne drove me to countless sports stores in my quest for new hiking boots and patiently waited while I was trying them on...

My stay in Portland is a kind of maintenance visit - not unlike you bring your car into the shop every so many miles: mammogram, optometrist, and as mentioned above, dentist. Many of you know about my fear of breast cancer - so here's the great news: as per last Friday's imaging I am still cancer free, thus surviving my mother by more than 15 years. Despite all my challenges, this is the best news of all and trumps all. However, at the dentist's things didn't go so well. Since I had had a toothache for many weeks, I was bracing myself for bad news but it still hurts - literally and in the wallet. The best case scenario is "just" a new crown. The prep work was done on Tuesday and the dentist staff stressed the importance of taking anti-inflammatories and pain killers whether I felt I needed them or not, to speed up the healing process. To start with, 3 ibuprofen as soon as I got home. So I stopped at a drugstore to fill my Vicodin prescription and buy some ibuprofen, which I swallowed on the spot - before noticing I had bought ibuprofen PM - which induces drowsiness - 600 mg in total. Then, being obedient, I still took a Vicodin before going to bed - which was unusually early! Surprise: I slept like a log, and definitely didn't feel any pain! However, the whole next day I felt like my head was in the fog... I am not used to taking painkillers!

Tomorrow I am off to the Desert Conference near Antelope. I can't wait to visit with the desert rats and to see eastern Oregon's wide open spaces. It means that I won't have any internet access until I return to Portland, on Sunday night.



Pictures:

1: Forest Park, the largest urban park in the US
2: Watching clouds from the back of Marianne's car
3: Larry's beer can chicken. It was delicious!
4: Fall morning in Washington county.

Portland, here I come!

Ron and Ria left this morning. There were no tears at the train station because in 2 days it's my turn to fly to Oregon and I can see them again before the end of the week! It feels strange to be doing the trip in the other direction, going to Oregon for a vacation and to see family and friends - instead of just plain going home. I admit to some apprehension. I frankly don't know how I'll feel being back in the city where I have lived longer than anywhere else. Will it be hard to leave again to return to Zuoz? Knowing myself it will. As a friend remarked: I tend to live in the moment, and wherever I am, I am happy and can't imagine being equally happy somewhere else.

Yet, no earlier than yesterday, after one more perfect fall day in the mountains and a no less perfect meal of venison, spaetzle, chanterelles and chestnuts, I was wondering how I could ever move away from here, from all this beauty, from a life that is such a good fit for me. However, it is also true that the life I have known since the end of January is coming to an end. In the immediate future there's this trip to Oregon (leaving Wednesday, Sept. 15). When I return I'll have another 2 weeks before starting my job at the bakery. Since I'll be working long hours with no certainty that I'll have time for a visit to the lowlands before spring, I think I'll spend them on a new round of visits to my sister, my aunt and friends. I am afraid that with the start of the job on November 1, the times of fun in the sun and/or with friends will be over.

The day after Ernst's departure I was myself getting ready to take the train to visit my aunt in St. Gallen for a couple of days when the door bell rang. Nobody ever rings my door bell... An older gentleman whom I didn't recognize immediately stood there. As soon as he said my name I knew who he was: my high school German teacher! He was vacationing in the area and was dropping in for a visit. Obviously the timing was not good, and we settled on getting together a few days later for a walk. We had reconnected after Dad's funeral and stayed in touch ever since. He is one of the lead authorities on Swiss wildflowers and I have been using his 2" thick field guide all summer to identify alpine flowers. Both our walk and the visit to the pastry shop were very sweet (!). I led him and his partner to the strikingly wild and breathtakingly beautiful Chaste Peninsula on Lake Sils. Due to the late season there were not many flowers still in bloom, but he was able to identify several species by looking at the seed heads. The conversation was alternating between botany and life, our kids and the arts... Another privileged moment allowing me to tie the present back to the past. Like all my high school teachers, he was part of the glue that kept me together after my mother's premature death.

The visit to my aunt also was a lot of fun. She is doing so much better than in the winter. She has gotten back her sense of humor and her laughter, which make my stays there very rewarding. Since I don't have anything else to do, and as I am becoming familiar with her kitchen, I am becoming increasingly daring, preparing gourmet meals and baking. She and her friend are extremely appreciative, eating with evident gusto peppered with good conversation. These visits definitely are a primary ingredient to my Lemonade. What a treat to be able to spend all this time with her, to laugh with her, to pick her brain about the past, to be able to serve her a few good meals!

As to the visit with Ron and Ria - it couldn't have been any better. The weather was bad when they arrived, but it got better every day. I spent the last 2 days hiking in shorts, which I had not been able to do in at least 2 weeks. The high meadows are now tinted with fall hues: intense reds, ocher, tawny. I had never been here in September and was not expecting this symphony of colors. Since the trees all are conifers, the forest still is entirely green, although the larches will eventually turn golden. I am expecting to come back to a blazing valley - provided they keep their needles until my return on October 15! Although not expert hikers, Ron and Ria were great sports, following me without any complaints up and down more miles than they had bargained for. I know that the incredible weather, the sharp fall light on the forests, rocks and glaciers worked their magic and made them forget the sweat and the pains.

To all my Oregon friends: I'll have my computer with me and therefore will be reachable by email. I'll also have a cell phone but don't want to post the number on the internet. If you want it, send me an email and I'll respond with the number.

View of Lake Sils from Chaste Peninsula














Landslide in Val Roseg. I walked on this trail about 2 weeks ago - and the landslide had not yet happened. With the loss of permafrost due to global warming such events are much more frequent than in the past.















The loss of permafrost requires extensive protection above towns, roads and train tracks. Here are some contraptions protecting the UNESCO Wold Heritage Bernina train line at Alp Gruem.










The irresistible reward at the end of a tough hike: Hotel Val Roseg.

Namaste

Ernst left this morning. The week felt like a vacation, as all I did was play. The emails and the dust bunnies accumulated while we were hiking, chatting, having fun. I am enjoying this rhythm: a few days playing and catching up with a friend followed by a few days of time to catch up with myself, and before I am feeling lonely, the next visitors arrive. All visits share commonalities, the hiking, the complaining about the bad weather, the meals enjoyed with good conversation. At the same time, each guest is different, leading to different dynamics. It's never boring, it's always a pleasure to not only rediscover my friends, but also to get to know them better. The scene at the Zuoz train station keeps on repeating itself, with my departing guests thanking me, and me feeling that I am the one who needs to thanks for the always enriching days.

Ernst's visit was very much like all others with respect to the weather and the expectations I had for hiking versus the reality. The weather was dismal on the day he arrived, and on Tuesday the snowline was once again way below the tree line, thus precluding any high elevation hiking. It stayed very cold the whole day and as a result very little snow melted until Wednesday. On Wednesday we made adjustments with a relatively low elevation hike to the National Park, and yesterday, finally on his last day, all snow being again gone, we did the proverbial high elevation hike with the expected views of the glaciers. And just like my others visitors, he was a good sport, seemingly satisfied with the less interesting walks we took on the bad weather days.

The season is turning. The snow has brought the animals closer to the valley floor, which resulted in spectacular sightings in the National Park. Through my open window I hear cowbells, as they have brought the livestock back down from the alps to graze in the fields around town. Two days ago was the opening day of the hunting season - a huge deal here. Once in a while we heard shots while hiking, but I definitely don't feel as threatened as during hunting season in Oregon. The positive upshot for non hunters is the appearing of venison on the restaurant menus and last night Ernst treated me to the most delicious meal.

The exciting event of the week was Wednesday night's yoga class. No, alas, I did not find a yoga studio. However, I taught a class to some 15 ladies of the gym club, 14 of which had never been exposed to yoga before. Our instructor injured her knee last winter, even before my arrival. Ever since then, each week saw a scramble for a sub. Recently I was having coffee with a few members of the steering committee and they were discussing the need for more subs, the difficulty of finding any... when I timidly offered, in case they really were in a bind, to teach a yoga class. I clearly explained that I was not trained to do so, that I had never taught yoga and that in effect, I had no idea of what I was doing... but in their desperation they accepted. Since this is all done on a volunteer basis, I figured I was not really taking any risks. Moreover, I decided that this was going to be enjoyable and easy to give them a positive taste of yoga. No fire butt pose, no pretzel poses. The lack of props was a challenge: no blocks, blankets or straps. We had mats but they were too soft, too deep, offering poor support. I tried to give them a taste of a variety of poses, focusing on posture and breathing, leading them through stretches and partner poses, challenging them in combinations of movements in sun salutations and downward dog/plank/cobra suites. Shavasana, the final relaxation, was an interesting experience: 15 women lying in front of me, listening to my voice lead them into a state of total relaxation and oblivion, and then slowly bringing them back... It was very powerful. We ended with the traditional greeting, namaste... which then was followed by unexpected and generous applause by my yogini.


Pictures:

1. The woods are now full of mushrooms. I even found the chanterelles at my dad's secret location.
2. The village of Sent, near Scuol, out of which we did a hike into the Val Sinestra.
3. Elk grazing in the National Park. We saw over 100 elks, a number of ibex, 3 chamois, countless marmots.
4. On Alp Gruem, facing the Palu Glacier.