Feature photo:Jakesmome. Above by author.

I GAVE BIRTH to my first child 18 months after returning from a year-long round-the-world trip. Both experiences dramatically changed my life. Travel, particularly travelling alone, is one of the most daunting – and rewarding – things I’ve ever done.

It’s scary, expensive and time consuming. Sometimes I wondered why the hell I signed up for it, but in the end, I was glad I did it. The same goes for the plunge into parenthood.

There are plenty other parallels between the two.

Packing

From the moment you make your list of what to include in your hospital bag, your life as a parent centers on packing. Diapers, wipes, snacks, toys. And while the traveler’s mantra is “pack what you think you’re going to need, then halve it,” the parent’s becomes “pack what you think you’re going to need, then triple it. And don’t forget the wipes.”

Gadgets

My favorite part of travel is the gadgets: pocket knives with eighteen different attachments, a cutlery set that clips together and compresses itself to the size of a matchbox. As soon as you have your first baby, a whole new world of gadgets opens up. Fold-up changing pad and plastic sippy cup with snack compartment attached, anyone?

Advice (Usually Unsolicited)

How many times have you been on the receiving end? You’re going to [insert well-known tourist destination here]? Don’t bother, it’s totally ruined. You should go to [insert slightly less tramped country here]. That’s the real [insert travel experience].’ Once you have children, advice hemorrhages from people’s mouths at an even greater rate. Now, it’s ‘Oh really, you let them watch TV? You do know it stunts their growth and turns them into career criminals?’ You learn to ignore what you don’t need and incorporate what works for you.

Meeting New People

Travelling alone, you have to ignore your butterfly stomach and just say hello to a total stranger. What you find is everyone is in the same boat, and most times you’re welcomed with open arms. Walking into your first mother-baby group, your nervous system will jump and bump with the same intensity. And again, you’ll be delighted to meet others who know exactly what you’re going through. Soon enough, you’ll find yourself sharing intimate physical details of which even your gynecologist is unaware.

The Immune System

Ever slept in a hostel where you suspected the bedding hadn’t been changed in a month?

Photo by Mckaysavage

Ever sipped from a beer mug you thought frosted but turns out it wasn’t? These all stand you in good stead once your kid starts toddling through your local park, picking up pieces of garbage, cigarette butts and even dog poo that they then give to you with a smile.

In all these ways, travel has made me a happier parent. When you find yourself lost and alone in Phnom Penh after dark or cooking meals on a camping stove from the few ingredients you have on hand, you soon learn not to sweat the small stuff. You learn to decipher what is truly a big problem and what is something you can accomplish easily by relying on your own ingenuity.

Feature photo by sappymoosetree. Above photo bywilderdom

In a recent Newseek interview, Maurice Sendak tells anyone who thinks the new Wild Things movie to be too wild to just go straight to hell.

I applaud him.

Just as I applaud him for fighting the original publishing house who wanted the soup waiting in Max’s bedroom to be warm instead of still hot.

I tried to convey how dopey “warm” sounded. Unemotional. Undramatic. Everything about that book is “hot.”

It makes me crazy to think anyone would seek to neuter this wonderful book by telling us life shouldn’t be hot, dangerous, shouldn’t be something that maybe, just maybe might force us to stand close to the edge look down over the abyss and think, “Oh, shit. This is huge.”

Where The Wild Things Are terrified me as a child. It took years before I could hear it all in one sitting. Yet I still came back to it, time and time again, until I fell in love with it. Now, when I read it to my daughter, I read as much for myself as for her.

Skipping forward almost fifty years, it seems the same fight surfaces with the film as parents worry our children will be too frightened by it.

I see this too often.

In the playground: Parents hover over their children, interrupt when they fight instead of allowing these young people to develop methods of their own for coping with conflict. I see it when I hear adults complain of the endless routine in their lives, but they are scared of what lies beyond what they already know. Thus, these same complainers stay unhappy when they could travel, find a new job, develop a new project, join a skydiving group or just try something to push the edges of comfort, even a little.

Photo by myradphotos

I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s certainly no more difficult than staying in one place, bored and unhappy.

H.G. Well’s Time Machine depicts a world in which humans follow this culture of fear to its (possibly) logical conclusion.

Are we to become the Eloi, a bunch of simpering weak beings who live only to escape death at the hands of the Morlocks, a band of menacing underground dwellers? They don’t go out at night, constantly look over their shoulders, and wait for death as the ground might swallow them whole.

Is that really what we want to be?

I can certainly understand the desire to provide stability for your children. They need family, a home, a place where they can feel secure while they explore the ever growing world around them. At a certain point, though, the safe world stops allowing for the same level of growth.

That’s when we need to branch out to find bigger playgrounds for exploration.

Take your children to the movies.

If it’s really too much for them, believe me, they’ll let you know, and you can leave, but at least you have given them the opportunity to stretch their own boundaries and choose.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION: What ways have you pushed your own boundaries? Would you suggest it to others? Please share your thoughts in the comments below.

Photo courtesy of Loyd Auerbach

Ever wonder what it takes to become a serious ghostbuster? What sorts of skills are necessary in order to track down our fleshless friends?

Well, paranormal neophytes, Matador is here to help debunk erroneous myths and impart ghost-hunting advice.

Armed with a hefty set of questions and a burning curiosity, we sit down with professional ghost hunter and director of the Office of Paranormal Investigations, Loyd Auerbach, to get some serious knowledge from one of the most respected minds in all things paranormal.

Here are six myths Loyd typically encounters among lay people and junior investigators alike.

Myth #1: Ghosts only come out at night.

Truth: Most people experience paranormal encounters in well lit areas. Loyd tells us:

Not only is this unscientific, but it flies in the face of the vast majority of people’s ghostly encounters and experiences. Darkness allows our perceptions to be skewed. Most people have experiences with lights on or even during the day.

Tip: Carry a flashlight, turn on the lights, or investigate during the day.

Unnecessary / Photo: nym

Knowing what you are seeing is just as important as seeing something.

Myth #2: Scientific technology can detect the paranormal.

Truth: “Apparitions and hauntings are phenomena defined by human experience,” Loyd writes in his article, Technology and Ghost-Hunting.

He explains to us:

No technology has been designed that is confirmed as detecting anything paranormal or psychic with certainty. Such technology can’t even be designed at this point since we don’t know what exactly we’re trying to detect.

Tip: Don’t rely solely on gadgets. Use your senses when investigating and always consider the perceptions of the witnesses. Do research beforehand on psychic experiences to be aware of what you might experience. Consider working with a reputable psychic. Humans are the best detectors.

Myth #3: Ghost hunting is dangerous work.

Truth: Ghost hunting can be dangerous if you make it so. Loyd says:

If working in the darkness, you can trip over things or if you are heading into locations that are physically unsafe. Ghost hunting is not dangerous because of “evil” or “demonic” entities. My colleagues and I do sometimes find the living folks more of a worry than ghosts.

Tip: Use common sense. Don’t explore alone. Be careful in areas that may be physically dangerous and stay away from potentially dangerous people!

Photo: Allan Siew Official

Myth #4: Ghost stories are worthless. You need your own proof.

Truth: Eyewitness accounts are essential to your investigations.

“The very basic model of ghosts requires that some form of psychic communication and perception is happening. Hauntings may rely on some form of clairvoyance. Poltergeist cases cry out for an understanding of psychokinesis,” Loyd writes in his article, Things To Do (And Not To Do) When Ghost-Hunting.

To Matador readers, he says:

I’ve heard many ghost hunters make this type of statement. Anecdotal evidence is how we define the experience of apparitions, hauntings, poltergeists, and all psychic experiences. As these experiences are of the mind and the minds of the ghosts, it’s all about subjective experience. People’s experiences are essentially anecdotal evidence and important.

Tip: Listen up! Many times, people will tell you the very information you are looking for.

Myth #5: There are no experts on ghost hunting.

Truth: Actually, there are. Parapsychology has a formidable and rich history. Loyd shares this nugget of info with us:

Parapsychologists, and before them psychical researchers, have studied people’s experiences and the locations and environments where said experiences are reported, researched what could cause people to experience such things outside of paranormal explanations, applied laboratory research on ESP and psychokinesis to their field investigations, etc. for over 100 years.

Tip: Seek out sources and references through the parapsychological research centers and organizations.

Photo: skillzthatkillz21

Myth #6: There is no significant literature or study on ghosts before the 1990s.

Truth: Parapsychology literature on apparitions, hauntings, and poltergeists go all the way back to the mid-1800s. It is important to do adequate research in the field of parapsychology if you are serious about ghost hunting.

In addition to teaching classes in the San Francisco area, Loyd Auerbach provides a list of educational resources across the U.S. on his website as well as constructive advice for those seeking formal parapsychology training.

Tip: Do your research. Check the library, Google Books, and Mindreader.com.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

Now that you’ve armed yourself with some real ghostbusting knowledge, head over to Carlo Alcos’s post at Trips to learn about 5 American Hauntings You Can Visit and Investigate First Hand.

Feature photo by Leigh Shulman. Above photo by Arvindgrover

We’re all relaxing around the kitchen, chatting and drinking coffee at Ran’s place in San Ramon, a suburb just outside of San Jose.

“You’re making the pinto this morning,” Ran informs me.

Yes, gallo pinto, the classic Tican breakfast of beans and rice.

Then he turns on the loud Ritmo, because reggaeton makes him feel like cooking, and starts swinging his hips.

He helps me assemble the ingredients:

One onion, chopped
Three garlic cloves, chopped
Oil, butter or animal fat
Two stalks Celery, chopped
Half a Sweet Pepper, chopped
Handful of chopped Cilantro
1.5 cups Black Beans
2 Cups Rice
Your choice of alcohol, beer works well.
Salsa Lizano Unlikely to be found outside of Costa Rica but is similar to mild green salsa found elsewhere)
Salsa Inglese aka Worcestershire sauce
Salsa China aka soy sauce
Salt and pepper

We’re all inside opening our first beer of the day. Yes, it’s first thing, but we woke up late, so it’s more like lunch than breakfast.

Begin With A Hot Pan, Garlic and Onions

First things first. I sautee garlic in olive oil, then add onions.

While I’m at the stove with the onions, Lila’s leaping and giggling in Ran’s bedroom, turning Noah into a jungle gym and Ran’s sweet dog Drunk – pronounced dronk with a fully rolled r – is in the backyard humping a towel.

Ran comes up behind me, takes my arm and gently rotates the spoon in the pan.

Photo by Randall Arias

“How’re those onions coming, honey?” His other arm encircles me, and we dance a little together, before he gives me a kiss and heads off to see who’s at the door.

Another friend arrives. There’s clearly some drama going between the two, so I focus on the pan in front of me. The onions have caramelized nicely. It’s time to add the celery, peppers and cilantro, keep stirring over heat until everything is cooked.

Now it’s time for the rice and beans.

There are two ways to make pinto. The first, comes from the Guanacaste province. They put the rice in first, and it makes for a drier, crunchier pinto. The other originates in the central valley, where the beans go first and the final dish is moister, mushier. We’re making Guanacaste today.

In goes the rice. Ran tells me to “fry it as much as I want,” although I’m not entirely sure what that means. I let it go about five minutes before adding beans, salt and pepper.

Final Touches

Then top with alcohol, salsa Lizano, soy sauce and a bit of Worcestershire sauce. Mix and you’re ready to eat.

Serve with naitilla – sour cream if you can’t find it — cheese, fried sweet plaintain, any kind of meat or eggs. You really can’t go wrong.

Photo: wikicommmons

AS A STUDENT OF Tai Chi Chuan [literally translated "the supreme ultimate boxing], I was stoked to hear about this study which came out last month from the University of Florida. It showed, among other things, that people with type 2 diabetes were able to lower their blood sugar over a period of six months by regularly practicing Tai Chi.

Tai Chi is an ancient Chinese martial art. There are many forms, but the root concept is the same: you focus on a series of postures and movements that simulates defending against various attacks. It’s basically an exercise in flow. Everything is slowed down to the point where the motions become a form of moving meditation, a way to concentrate on your breathing and harmonize mind and body.

Over the years I’ve practiced a couple different forms, and each time am amazed at how the ‘effects’ of an hour long session can last for the rest of the day or night. You have more energy, less stress, and you just move better. You pay attention to how you stand up, sit down, walk across a room. You have higher mental clarity.

I’ve also found that doing a little bit of Tai Chi before paddling, surfing or snowboarding helps me perform better. Some of the movements within the forms, such as ‘Needle at Sea-Bottom’, are essentially board-riding stances. And others, such as ‘Wave Hands Like Clouds’ teaches you how to initiate turns using your whole body.

I love it when science substantiates what people intuit for themselves. Tai Chi is healing. It’s something you should consider starting now, or picking back up if you’ve studied before. The key, in my opinion, is having a good teacher. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any solid ‘national’ resources. Please search your local area for Tai Chi instructors. Any other online resources out there? Please let us know in the comments, and tell us what health (or other) benefits you’ve experienced through Tai Chi.

On the beach at St Alban’s / Photo by Candice Walsh

Long Path Road is dead.

Dad and I sit on the front deck of our sandy bungalow, 11 p.m., him smoking and me trying to adjust to darkness without streetlights.

“Why on earth would anyone build a cabin when you already live in the middle of nowhere?” he says, taking a haul on his cigarette.

I didn’t know Dad had a sense of humor until two years ago, when my relatives and I gathered in my Uncle’s shed, eating homemade beef-jerky, listening to fiddle music, and drinking Black Horse ale.

Boiling Tea / Photo by Candice Walsh

Dad picked up an old rope tied to a snowmobile and started using it as a skipping rope. Later, when my Aunts and I squatted in the grass to relieve ourselves, I looked up at the glittery darkness and wondered when I had been created equal to my family.

“Don’t let that dog lick your arse!” my Aunts screeched as I toppled over.

But there are no age boundaries, no social constructs here. Among these hills and inside the bay, you’re forced to create bonds. I ride my bike around town and people holler, “HELLO, CANDICE!” I completely forget who they are.

The town is overgrown with alders. My path to the old Catholic school has disappeared. My friends and I used to chug beers on that path before we all graduated high school and moved away.

This year, 28 new homes have been built, and plans are set for a multimillion-dollar government building. The marsh across from our house is being drained to facilitate a new road, and a cul-de-sac for more houses. Who in their right minds would build a house here, six hours from the nearest city, a million years away from good healthcare? Travelling halfway across Canada is more bearable than a trip home.

The next evening I run into an old classmate, Kyle. Not yet graduated from University, he and his brother have bought a modern two-storey house among the trees for less than $40,000. They have invested in a tourism business, taking wanderers around the bay for overnight camping trips, windsurfing lessons, and explorations of the many untouched beaches and coves. Around the wind-beaten, freezing coast of southern Newfoundland, Kyle has perfected surfing.

Surprisingly, the pub is filled with people in their twenties and early thirties. A cluster of older people stare at me as I approach the bar for a drink. “Judging by your red hair, you must be a Walsh,” says one man, leaning forward, and his hands gripping his beer.

One can only remain without an identity for so long.

When I awake on my last day in St. Alban’s, I spy Dad’s rucksack sitting by the front door. He’s in the kitchen brewing tea, and he plants a bottle of homemade bakeapple jam on the table for me. The room smells like evergreen trees and wood smoke, and I’m reminded of the time we spent the afternoon hiking through Dad’s trail, pausing to boil tea over a fire in the snow. The best tea I ever had.

Suddenly the city is deader than this town.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION: Want to realize your dream of becoming a successful travel writer? Check out Matador U Continue reading this post >>

Photos by Leigh Shulman

Mornings have been difficult in our house lately. My five-year-old Lila takes her proverbial sweet time getting dressed. Every little thing, shirt, shoes, socks, everything becomes a massive time consuming endeavor. Most days, I find her sitting on the floor wearing only underwear and a pair of socks while singing made-up songs and acting out little shows with her stuffed cat – Kitty – and two plastic toy puppies named Rainbow Sprinkles and Flower Rice.

While I have to admit, I find it adorable, and even more so, applaud her creativity, getting dressed involves multiple reminders on my part. Read: nagging. Otherwise, it’s impossible to get out the door.

Lord Save Me From Sticker Charts

“Use a sticker chart,” people told me. But I’ve always hated those stupid charts. How tedious and demeaning. I mean, if you tried to motivate me out of bed in the morning with a sticker, even a puffy, sparkly Hello Kitty one, I’d seriously have to fight the urge to punch you in the face. And I am not normally a violent person. I don’t want people talking down to me. I don’t want to be treated as if I’m an idiot, needing some small and pointless reward in order to move me onto the next simple step.

But after trying everything else I could think of, I gave in, bought a notepad, some princess stamps and a pile of stickers.

1. Put on clothes.
2. Brush Hair.
3. Shoes.
4.Brush Teeth.
5.Take a Shower/Wash Face.
6. Brush teeth once again.
7. Go to bed.

For each activity she completes with great alacrity, she receives a stamp on her chart. For every full day of things she does without more than two reminders each from us, she gets a sticker. Every five stickers – meaning a perfect week without constant nagging on the part of us parents – Lila gets to do or have something fun of her choice.

See what I mean? Painfully tedious. You probably don’t even want to read the list.

I Was Wrong

But you know what? Lila adores this system. It excites and invigorates her. Our mornings are nagless as she runs to us to show how she’s completed each task and relishes each choice of stamp. I watch as her delight in a sticker becomes synonymous with her daily routines. Kitty, Rainbow and Flower partner in her project and she incorporates play into the more structured framework of her life.

That’s when it hit me. How wonderful to find pleasure in these small things. Perhaps the real problem is that we adults somehow stop finding contentment so easily. And maybe, just maybe, it would be pretty damn great if someone coaxed me through each of my daily projects with the promise of some minor reward.

Maybe a sticker wouldn’t excite you, but what would?

Photo by Leigh Shulman

A good piece of chocolate? A strong coffee or an afternoon alone to do as you please? Those would all be lovely, but do they strike you with the same intensity as Lila exhibits when she gets to choose her sticker at the end of the day?

My graduate school writing mentor Ed Rivera, author of Family Installments: Growing Up Hispanic in America, told me once that he believes the crux of creativity lies in the ability to never stop seeing the world as a child. I remind myself of that each time I sit down to write.

What would it take for you to find that pleasure in life’s everyday ordinary joys?

Chicken Tractor. Photo: Jessica Reeder

Pretty much everywhere I’ve been where I thought life is good, the people had chickens. It just makes sense on so many levels. You can get organic eggs, you can harvest meat, the chickens help make the land more fertile–and it doesn’t take a lot of space to do it.

A couple days ago I saw this piece on the recent surge of people raising backyard chickens, which is legal here in Sarasota county. People living even on very small lots can use chicken ‘tractors’ like the one pictured here. Tractors are basically inexpensive floor-less coops that you move from place to place around your yard. The chickens scratch at insects and worms, and their manure goes directly into the ground as organic fertilizer.

Here’s a great resource to find out what the laws are for having chickens in various places around the US. It’s surprising how many urban areas, such as Seattle, allow you to raise chickens. Here’s another good site that sells tractor kits (although they’d be super easy to build yourself if you have carpentry skills) as well as poultry supplies.

As we settle down in Patagonia this fall, we’re definitely thinking about having chickens. I’m tired of buying everything. I want Layla to grow up eating food that comes right from our land, food we raise ourselves.

Community Connection

Anyone raise / raised chickens in an urban environment or using a tractor? Please share your thoughts in the comments below.

Feature photo by leah.jones. Above photo by zappowbang

I know many too many women with breast cancer.

A great aunt, two close friends and quite a few other family members. My mother does breast cancer research and is herself a survivor who has been in remission for seven years. She works in the same lab where her own biopsy was diagnosed. Statistics tell me there is a 1 in 8 chance that I may one day be fighting as well.

So what can I — and all of you — do now, to prevent, educate and support in the fight?

Take care of yourself first.

Learn what you can do to educate yourself, prevent and protect yourself from breast cancer. This includes, among other things, monthly self exams and yearly mammograms. If you find something suspicious, talk to a doctor immediately.

Shave something for solidarity.

Your head, your beard or whatever other body part makes sense.

This year at Burning Man, my good friend Stephanie and husband, Noah both sheared their locks to support our friend Gail. It was without a doubt the most meaningful event of the entire week.

Another friend of ours is shaving his beard for the first time this decade to be part of Movember, a yearly mustache growing charity event held in November each year to raise funds and awareness for men’s health, because, remember, not only women get breast cancer.

Create Community

Lotsa Helping Hands allows you to develop a “free-of-charge, private, web-based community to organize family, friends, neighbors, and colleagues for someone currently undergoing treatment.”

There you can develop a framework to provide meals, rides to and from the hospital and whatever else might be needed.

Create Your Own Fundraising and Awareness Event

Passionately Pink, part of Susan G Komen for the Cure, gives you all the resources and materials you need to set mobilize friends, family and even strangers to raise money and work toward a cure. You can join an already existing team or run an event of your own.

Listen and Share

Too often, we believe those with cancer don’t want to talk about it. In truth, it’s more likely our own discomfort causes us not to ask questions. Instead, open yourself to listen and really hear what a friend with cancer has to say.

Finally, I call on all of you to share your own experiences and resources by leaving a comment below.

Feature image by Chris P Jobling. Photo above by AngelsWings’

In a recent New York Times blog, Tim Kreider wrote about something he called ‘The Referendum’, which, succinctly put, is your defense of the major life decisions that you have made: marriage or no marriage, children or no children, career or no career.

To that list I would add to travel or not to travel.

As a recently married person, new to mid-life, and perhaps vaguely entering my first real crisis of conscience, I know exactly what he is talking about. I feel young at 40, and I suppose as newlyweds we feel younger than most, but those creeping question of starting a family begin to take hold like hyperactive vines rising out of the soil in some low-budget science fiction flick.

We have felt wondrously gluttonous this year after a destination wedding followed by trips to Palm Springs, California, Costa Rica and Ireland, while friends and family are busy having babies or are already raising families. We look out the window at them from our taxiing plane and wonder how they handle the late-night feedings, the extra work and, in essence, the tedium. Is it worth it? Are we doing the right thing or are we just selfish. Greedy. Irresponsible, even?

Making Your Choices

We have married travel as much as we have married each other,

Photo by hapal

because we always knew that travel would be a staple of our life together. More important than a house or an expensive car or children, and we have made our own sacrifices in order to travel.

I’m not suggesting travel with children is impossible, but perhaps it is too much for us to handle at this point, or ever. Of course people take family trips all the time. It’s just that family trips, by their nature, are just, well, different. Are they better? That is the nagging question I cannot answer. Perhaps they see us as unfortunately grounded while they fly into uncharted territory, growing and experiencing the world together.

But what is travel if not the thrill of decision-making? Of course, in choosing your particular spot, you will be not-choosing others, which will cause you to inherit the grief of the road not taken. You will be asked at the end: “Oh did you hike  ____  mountain when you were in ____?  Or “My God, did you take that wild ride down the ___ on the way to ____”

“No, we didn’t,” you’ll say, and then you can smile as you remember what you did instead.