Two of the loveliest women in Virchers (who are not Aristasians) are Miss Echo Underwood and Miss Phideaux Mayo. I first made their acquaintance this summer and I am continually impressed with their efforts. They run a lovely sim called Esoterica. It may be a bit unusual for some Aristasian pettes, they have an artistic bent, but it is safe enough.
Their latest venture is Retropolitan Magazine. The first issue just came out and I can't recommend it highly enough. The subscription is free- all that is required is to join the group (search Vircher's groups for: Retropolitan Magazine). The magazine is for ladies (and gents, I suppose) who wish to live a retro lifestyle in Virchers. The adverts all cater to this, you will see notices for shops you already know well.
In this issue I learned of possibly the most lovely place in Virchers I have yet to visit. A quiet refuge built by an extraordinary artist named AM Radio. To visit is to travel to Culvaria in the 1930s. This morning I wandered through desolate snowy wheatfields. Eyes tearing from the wind, cheeks bright pink from the cold, I contemplated the lovely, simple poetry of barbed wire strands and solitary windmills.
Rayati dear Miss JJ. I am so sorry I had toddle off just as you arrived. Mengxia-chei and I had just returned from our trek through the snowy fields. She was warming her bunny slippered feet by the fire. Was Mengxia-chei able to guide you?
Here are a couple of cute snow bunnies hopping through the drifts:
Earlier I introduced Miss Yu to the mare Amerigo who was grazing outside the Embassy. Amerigo belongs to the patron saint of children and is quite gentle.
The Embie is being decorated in honor of the celebrations for the holiday season. I hope everyone approves. Please stop by.
I was looking up a recipe and came across a Gracie Allen quote.
This is a silly recipe. It says to separate the eggs. But it doesn't say how far apart to separate them!
This reminded me of how much I love her humor. There are simply loads of kinnies of her and I've just spent an hour of the new year watching them.
The recipe is for cajun black eyed peas. Eating black eyed peas on the new year for good luck is a Southern Culvarian custom but I had no idea why. It turns out that it is quite ancient!
The "good luck" traditions of eating black-eyed peas on New Year's Day are recorded in the Babylonian Talmud. This custom is followed by Sepharadi and Israeli Jews to this day. The first Sepharadi Jews arrived in Georgia (Culvaria) in the 1730s and have lived there continuously since. The Jewish practice was apparently adopted by non-Jews around the time of the Civil War.
These "good luck" traditions date back to the U.S. Civil War. Union troops, especially in areas targeted by General William Tecumseh Sherman, would typically strip the countryside of all stored food, crops, and livestock and destroy whatever they couldn't carry away. At that time, Northerners considered "field peas" and corn suitable only for animal fodder, and as a result didn't steal or destroy these humble foods. Many Southerners survived as a result of this mistake.
Oh my dear I have been remiss! It has been FAR too long since my last diary entry. I had no idea it was this long. Well, I do have one excuse and it is that part of that time I was away on my most Grand Adventure ever. And before that, I was busy preparing for my Grand Adventure. And after that, I was recovering from my Grand Adventure.
But I have finally recovered enough to share some snapsies:
Temple of the Monkeys, Kathmandu
Cremation Ceremonies in Kathmandu- children in the foreground playing in the river
Up in the mountains, after a rain.
A village in the distance. You mean we're hiking back down?
The Sherpa village of Namche Bazaar
Ladies of Namche out for a morning of shopping at the market
Breathtaking view number 1
Breathtaking view number 2 - quite honestly, I did have trouble breathing. Was it the thin air or the views?
The Monastery at Tengbuche. The Nunnery is an hour's hike down the valley.
The Sherpa village of Dengbuche
Beasts of Burden
Kathmandu is hectic chaos. Vibrant might be one word for it but it is a bit too vibrant for me, to be frank. I found the traffic on the roads incomprehensible. I suppose the Nepalese do as well, as they never drive more than ten feet without honking their horn. You cannot walk those ten feet without being beset by someone offering to sell a trinket or a child begging for coins to feed a sister. It was a relief to depart the city and climb mountains.
I think the Sherpa people may very well be the loveliest on earth. They are kind and gentle and smile constantly. They are always at ease and peaceful. They great each with 'Nameste' (nahm-es-te') exactly the same way we great each other with Rayati. It means "I bow to the light within you." (Which interests me as Quakers speak of the 'Light Within' as well). The construction of their homes is quite sturdy and precise. They keep them neat and tidy. Is there something about the crisp air or the mountain views which focuses one's mind? Or is it the harsh winters? I was disappointed to see bongo culture reaching even to this remote area- undershirts imprinted with images of Miss Spears and Miss Madonna (no, not our mushroom, the other Miss Madonna).
As there is little firewood on high but an abundance of Yak dung, the homes are heated with the latter. The Yaks are darling creatures. They are like small furry cows and as they trudge along the trails you can hear their bells ringing like windchimes.
I became quite addicted to Milk Tea (served with sweet condensed milk). The air grew quite thin in the higher elevations. There were nights I woke up gasping for air feeling like a fish out of water. One gradually becomes accustomed to it but it's an unpleasant sensation until then.
Those are just some random impressions off the top of my head...
Joined: 07 Feb 2008 Posts: 335 Location: In a strange and scary place on a long journey homeward.
Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 10:23 pm Post subject:
How wonderfully exciting! It is such a fascinating part of Telluria.
And there is another Miss Madonna - how exciting - or perhaps not. One feels with a name like that she cannot be too bongo, but then - well I dread to inquire further really.
What I do wonder is when folks in these cultures wear bongo images, what do they actually mean to them? I am sure they do not see them in the way that bongos see them. They represent something to them - but what?
It brought another thought to my mind. One is initially inclined to think that they do not see bongo cultural figures for what they actually are - but then, what are they, actually? Is their own view of themselves from within their own culture any more accurate than the view of an outsider?
Perhaps someone from a traditional culture sees them in the light of a purity they do not possess. But perhaps she is seeing the real person that would have existed had she not been overlaid by the falsehood of the Pit.
It connects in my mind with the discussion we had a little while ago about innocence. Far from innocence being an ignorance, or lack, it is the truth that becomes obscured by over-worldly contamination.
Joined: 10 Feb 2008 Posts: 153 Location: PurpleCastle, Arcadia
Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 7:34 pm Post subject:
This is a gorgeous place, Miss Daffodil" Congratulations on your journey!
Miss Madonna, I'm afraid that you won't completely like to know the other Miss Madonna. So I'll tell you only her acceptable aspects. She had a nearly sound period in her career, when she portrayed Miss Evita Peron in a movie. She had gorgeous clothing and makeup. I vaguely remember her also dressed like gorgeous Lady Morticia Addams and also like Miss Marilyn, some time ago. She's intelligent, she had a girlfriend some time ago and she has always had her own independent style but it's bongo at its roots...
Miss Viola, I had quite forgotten that (the other) Miss Madonna could look so lovely!
Miss Madonna (our mushroom), your thoughts and observations have stumped me entirely. I shall continue to ponder them- not expecting an answer but for the sheer enjoyment of the pondering.
I can go so far as to say that I did sometimes wonder while under the care of the Sherpa people if they didn't perhaps feel that I was the innocent and not them. I know I asked of them innumerable questions which must have seemed dreadfully naive from their perspective. I never did get a proper answer to my question regarding ownership of Yaks- how to tell whose are whose? It seems the question itself is so bizarre on its face, as to defy answerability. (Is that a word?)
One notes that Bongo culture is managing to push its way further than one might expect. Many Sherpa had portable telephones and many villages had at least one ordinator with an elektrasite connection.
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