Nature and Healing

A guest post on Project Kilimangaro, from participant Venita Ray.

Mt. Kilimangaro

In September 2011, I was part of a group of 13 dynamic women who traveled to Tanzania, Africa, to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. The inspiration for the climb was Becky Pope, a two-time survivor of ovarian cancer. Since September is ovarian cancer month, Becky hoped that the climb would bring awareness to ovarian cancer and inspire others to continue climbing the mountains in their own lives. Before joining Project Kilimanjaro, I could not spell "Kilimanjaro". I had no idea where Kilimanjaro was located or what I had gotten myself into. And I definitely did not know how much Project Kilimanjaro would change my life.

As I was about to learn, at 19,336 feet, Mt. Kilimanjaro is the highest peak on the African continent and a Tanzania national park.

I was one of the Super Seven core group of women selected by Shana Ross to participate in the climb. Shana Ross is a fitness trainer in Houston, Texas, and owner of the Shana Ross Fitness studio. Shana knew about some of our personal struggles with health issues because we had all trained with her at the fitness studio. Our small group of women had survived cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, menopause, substance abuse, HIV, and obesity. Our common bond was that we had all used health and fitness to transform our lives. For almost six months, we trained together and prepared for the climb. To find out about more about these incredible women, visit the official official Project Kilimangaro website.

Following our arrival in Tanzania, we spent six days hiking, camping out with tents and sleeping bags, trying to breathe in high altitudes, and getting along without a bath or bathroom facilities. I was totally out of my element. I think my daughter said it best when she said, “mother, you are not the outdoorsy type.” However, I am sort of a fitness nut and yogi. I agreed to climb to challenge myself physically and to inspire others to never give up. I wanted to show others how I had used health and fitness to reclaim the power in my life after finding out in 2003 that I had HIV.

Since the climb, I have blogged about a number of insights and lessons I gained from the climb on my website, Venita's Kilimanjaro Project. Here is an excerpt from my blog of some of my experiences on Kilimanjaro.

We all felt pretty charged up on the first day of the climb at about 6,400 feet. I started off hiking with the ladies who gravitated to the front of our 17-member group. It should have been a pretty easy climb through the rain forest. But by the time we made it to camp about four hours later, I was feeling a little short of breath. Before setting out on day 2, I knew that I would need to hike at a slower pace.

Day 2 started at 9,020 feet and was the most difficult day of the climb for me. The climb was steeper and very rocky. I began to experience nausea from the altitude, had difficulty breathing, and hurt my chest and knee. Before climbing Kilimanjaro I considered myself physically fit. I loved the training and looked forward to the challenge of the climb. I could not believe I was having a hard time, and it was only the second day. And to make matters worse, everyone could see that I was having a hard time. By the time I went to my tent for the night, I could not put any weight on my right knee. I was afraid that I would not be able to continue. I rubbed my knee down with Arnica rub and wrapped it with an ace bandage. I went to sleep praying that it would be better in the morning. The next morning I was able to continue in spite of the pain.

For the rest of the climb, I had to let go of the image of myself as this fit person and just focus on taking a step and taking a breath. I was determined not to quit. The damage to my ego was worse that the pain to my body. I was nauseous all the time and could not take a deep breath because of the pain in my chest. I would later learn that I had a torn pectoral muscle and a sciatica injury. I did not talk much on the climb, and I did not take many pictures. I did not have the energy. I refused to share how I was feeling with the rest of the group. I tried to be gentle with myself and just accept that I was having a hard time.

By the time we reached Kibo, the final camp before summit on day 4, I knew I was out of gas. Kibo is situated 15,500 feet above sea level. I wanted to tell everyone that I was unable to go on, but I could not say the words. The same stubbornness and determination that kept me going would not let me give up now. I went to my tent and prayed. I finally decided that I was going to try to summit. I was still feeling nauseous, unable to eat and in pain. I put on my summit clothes and laid there until it was time to go. When it was time to go, I joined the most "poley poley" (Swahili for slowly slowly) group and started climbing. My right leg and glutes burned every time I took a step. And I was freezing. I climbed until my legs refused to go any further. I finally had to admit I could not continue and had to be taken down.

I insisted on walking down on my own but kept falling. Finally Freddie, my guide, took control and half carried me down. I cried for some time after reaching my tent, angry at my body for failing me. For months, I had visualized myself at the summit, arm-in-arm with the other ladies. I felt that the entire climb had been a failure.

It would be several days before I would realize that I had in fact reached the summit. I had reached MY summit. It was just not Kili's summit. I had given 150%. I had endured three and a half days of pain and altitude sickness, and had not given up. Even though I still hurt physically, I realized that the greatest bruise had been to my ego. I needed to be proud of myself and recognize that the whole trip and process to Kilimanjaro had not been a failure. My summit was still my summit. I was very happy for all of my Kili Dadas (Swahili for "sisters") for reaching their summits. My lesson was to let go of my ego and focus on what I had accomplished. I had come a long way. I learned later that I climbed to about 16,500 feet. Today, I am damn proud of that!

Venita on the mountain.

The process and actual climb to Kilimanjaro represented so many "firsts" for me. Public disclosure of being HIV+, first time in a tent, first time in a sleeping bag, first time hiking up any mountain, first time in Africa, and first time my passport has been stamped for international travel! All of these firsts occurred for me at age 53. It just goes to show it's never too late for new experiences and to truly live life! All in all, Project Kilimanjaro was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

Killing Frost 2011: A #BAD11 Post

The killing frost has not yet arrived in Central New York, but it soon will, likely by next week, pretty much bringing an end to this year's adventures in the vegetable garden. Already the tomato plants and pumpkin vine have succumbed to a light kiss of frost, while the zucchini and snake gourd plants remain indecisive in their response. The eggplant and tomatillo plants seemingly deny the inevitable, continuing to set a prodigious quantity of fruit.

This year brought mixed results in my garden. Heavy snows collapsed our old greenhouse, so I spent quite a bit of time dismantling and salvaging the metal. I cleared more overgrown areas, digging up the fennel forest, but overhanging tree limbs shaded out some of my most fertile ground. Come spring, the scrub trees will have to be cut.

Animals came to visit, most vexing, a deer that in June ate up half the tomato plants and a good bit of lettuce. I researched remedies on the Internet and tried most of them, but I think that the one that did the most good (apart from closing the fence gate) was hanging little bundles of deodorant soap from the tomato support frames. It did give an appearance of voodoo, however.

Bird activity, crows, I imagine, also led to daily teeth-gnashing. The birds pulled up four successive plantings of corn. Not one seedling was left standing; all plucked up and cast down with complete disregard for my sincere and persistent efforts. The birds also took out half the eggplant and pepper seedlings, all of the brussel sprout seedlings, and one each of every other type of plant. Since it was too late to reseed the brussel sprouts, I went over to the farmer's market and brought 12 seedlings, fully expecting the birds to yank up most of them. However, the birds let them be, and now I have bushels of brussel sprouts awaiting harvest. I like brussel sprouts, but the quantity to be gathered is a bit extreme.

My scarecrow, entirely ineffective.

I was happy to see a toad hanging out around the garden; I haven't seen toads in our backyard in over 30 years. The rabbits, however, I chased away. Or maybe it was the neighborhood cat that kept them away. Having wiped out the mice and mole population last year, she keeps up with her patrols, but with no apparent success.

A new addition to the garden this year and very interesting, I must say, were the five tomatillo plants. I sprinkled the seeds on the ground in late May, and up came pencil-like stalks with a few leaves on top. They stayed that way for the longest time. Then in late summer, after a rainy spell, the plants exploded, growing over five feet tall and spreading around as much, producing the lovely green lanterns that house the developing fruits. According to the seed package, these were supposed to be purple plants with purple fruits, but they stayed bright green. There must be hundreds of the fruits.

I also tried growing Black Krim tomatoes, and I think I'll put them in again next year. The skin is a kind of brownish-reddish-green, and the fruit could be mistaken for rotten meat if you don't look closely enough, but they are very tasty. A hearty, good-eating tomato, but prone to splitting. The seed package displayed an average-size, round tomato, but my plants produced some odd-shaped fruits that easily weighed more than a pound a piece.

I had a good crop of cucumbers, tons of pole and bush beans (both stringless varieties, tender and delicate in taste), lots of herbs, peppers of all varieties, a good batch of eggplants (including the fairy tale variety that I probably wont bother with again), lots of radishes, and not so many carrots and beets (which I ascribe to the overhanging trees that are going to be going away).

Mid-summer, hanging out in the shade.

But most fun of all was the giant pumpkin. After every conceivable setback, the pumpkin plant came through with a 450-pound beauty.  Despite a late start due to unseasonably cold, wet spring weather; a 3-week-long mid-summer drought; a split main vine; and an attack by the dreaded SVB (squash vine borer) insects, the pumpkin just grew and grew. While giant pumpkins notoriously require quantities of fertilizer and pesticides, this guy got his food from a nearby rotting wood pile, minimal sprayings to treat the SVB, and a bucket of water every other day during the drought. He just wanted to thrive.

Which brings me to my #BAD11 question, doesn't everyone want to thrive? And if so, why aren't we paying more attention to the production and security of the food supply?

If the magnitude of the problems surrounding agriculture, food safety, and nutrition seems overwhelming and an individual's ability to influence them remote, then one place to begin is in the garden, whether in the backyard, front yard, or in a few containers on the patio or even indoors. Working the soil, following the weather, delivering water, observing plants grow, watching the fruits mature (and sometimes disappear or fail), and tasting the goodness of fresh produce, cannot help but lead to a greater understanding of the problems and joys of producing food, better decisions, better health, and wholesomeness.

To that end, we would do well to teach gardening in schools of every type, establish and support community gardens, and attach gardens to residential, educational, and institutional facilities. This would be a small, but effective step in restoring a healthy relationship with food.

Recycling Cars for Charity: A guest post from Giveacar, UK scrap car donation provider

By Daniel Frank, Marketing Executive, Giveacar, Ltd.

Cars are well known as villains of the environmental story, with their gas-guzzling ways, high carbon emissions, and ubiquitous presence. Even when they stop running, they continue to pollute with a variety of toxic liquids and mercury switches, all while rotting on your drive or in your yard. Okay, that is somewhat hyperbolic, but it's also true. So what do you do when you want to trade up to a better, greener car, or when your old car stops running.

Well, for the ecologically-minded, there are two obvious options: you can either try to sell your old car to someone else or you can sell it to be scrapped and recycled.

However, there is also a third option that maybe isn't quite so obvious. You can give your car to charity. Now, how to go about that varies depending on where you are. If you're from the States, then there are a huge range of charitable organizations that are willing to accept your donated car and you may even qualify for a tax break. However, these organizations usually require working cars.

Scrapping your car in an environmentally-friendly manner can also be difficult. Illegal scrap yards will take your car, strip out those bits which can be sold, and leave the rest to rot, leaching heavy metals and other toxins into the soil and water. Further, some cars that are unable to run safely are cleaned up and put back on the road, posing a risk to both the driver and others who use the roads, drivers, pedestrians, cyclists, and others.

And so, it is always important to find a reliable junkyard that will recycle and dispose of your car in a safe and environmentally-responsible manner. This means that they will drain the car of toxic liquids such as antifreeze and brake fluid, and remove the battery, mercury switches, and other hazardous substances. After doing that, they will remove the parts that can be recycled, such as catalytic converters and tires. Only when the car is stripped down to its framework, will it be crushed and the steel sold to smelters to be recycled and used in industry.

Outside of the States, illegal car disposal is starting to become less common, in part, thanks to a small British company called "Giveacar." Founded last January by Tom Chance, graduate of Nottingham University, Giveacar collects donated cars and then either scraps them or sells them at auction, giving the proceeds to a charity of the donor's choice.

In doing so, Giveacar is following the lead of charities such as the Rescue Mission, which by recycling gently-used clothing, furniture, and other consumer items not only benefits those in need, but also the environment.

For more information or, in the UK, to donate a car, visit http://www.giveacar.co.uk/.


Further reading:

"Recycle your car, don't scrap it," by Eifion Rees, published in the Ecologist (Dec. 7, 2010).

US Environmental Protection Agency resource conservation web page, Automotive Parts.

Automotive Recyclers Association, an international trade association dedicated to the efficient reuse of auto parts and the safe disposal of junk motor vehicles. 

Students' Green Blogs Survey

Friends . . . students at the Florida International University School of Journalism and Mass Communication are seeking participants for research on social media, bloggers, and blog readers. Their green blogs survey, which does not require you to submit any identifying information, takes about ten minutes to complete, and can be accessed through the following Survey Monkey link:  https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/fiu_vachira. Your participation would be greatly appreciated.

Golden Rules

During this winter of seemingly endless gray days, near-continuous snow, and giant icicles, I've turned my attention to the daunting task of cleaning out our junk drawers. 

Among the truly mind-boggling amount of the stuff (much of which ended up in the recycle bin), I came across a clipping from an October 1994 church bulletin that someone must have passed along to my mother.

The article, titled "My Ten Commandments" by Elodie Armstrong (aged 90), indicates that Mrs. Armstrong, "a special lady, full of fun, spirituality and faith," had written her ten commandments in her 50s, after receiving a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis.

I've always found that when in doubt, the Golden Rule relayed by Jesus Christ, do unto others as you would have them do unto you, resolves most problems. However, Mrs. Armstrong's ten commandments are pretty good too.

Curious to find out more about Mrs. Armstrong, I googled her name and found that a good number of churches, writers, and bloggers have posted her ten commandments at various times over the years, all giving her age as 90-years-old and indicating that she had written her ten commandments 40 years earlier. Digging a bit further, I came across a "Dear Ann Landers" letter from Marge Wisner, Mrs. Armstrong's daughter, dated September 2, 1988, indicating that Mrs. Armstrong was about to turn 90.

That being the case, Mrs. Armstrong would have been born in 1898, penning her 10 commandments during the late 1940s, over 60 years ago. In the tradition of passing along folk wisdom, here they are:

1. Thou shalt not worry, for worry is the most unproductive of all human activities.
2. Thou shalt not be fearful, for most of the things we fear never come to pass.
3. Thou shalt not cross bridges before you get to them, for no one yet has succeeded in accomplishing this.
4. Thou shalt face each problem as it comes. You can handle only one at a time anyway.
5. Thou shalt not take problems to bed with you for they make very poor bedfellows.
6. Thou shalt not borrow other people's problems. They can take better care of them than you can.
7. Thou shalt not try to relive yesterday for good or ill -- it is gone. Concentrate on what is happening in your life today.
8. Thou shalt count thy blessings, never overlooking the small ones, for a lot of small blessings add up to a big one.
9. Thou shalt be a good listener; for only when you listen do you hear ideas different from your own. It's very hard to learn something new when you're talking.
10. Thou shalt not become bogged down by frustration, for 90 percent of it is rooted in self-pity and it will only interfere with positive action.

Personally, I'm fond of number 10, although please tell me it that positive action doesn't mean go out and shovel more snow.