Glen Arbor Sun

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July 26, 2007

Dunegrass Festival springs from one unique family

By Nadine Gilmer
Sun contributor

Empire is home to many colorful and interesting families, and a walk down Front Street reveals as much. But the Vanderberg family, the founders of the Dunegrass Festival, just might take the cake. Nestled between the town’s eclectic shops and popular library, their front yard has featured eye-popping sites through the years: a graffiti-painted school bus, intricate snow sculptures, even a teepee. The latest is a hole, which was once a driftwood sculpture, and will soon become a waterscape. The Vanderbergs have never failed to surprise their neighbors.

“We’re experimenters,” says Mike, who with his wife Carol has three daughters. “We try not to leave a big imprint, but bring new things to light.” And the Vanderbergs definitely pull that off. From alternative schools, to the Sleeping Bear Dunegrass & Blues Festival, they illuminate new acts for the entire community, and region. “We specialize in taking our talents and expanding, and creating whatever we want with our parents as our base,” says Alice, 21, the second daughter of three. Her 15-year-old sister, Ashley, takes it a step further. “Everybody in Leelanau County knows where I live,” boasts Ashley. Their house is “the safe house. It’s where everybody goes when they need somewhere to stay.”

Over the years the Vanderbergs have harbored all sorts of people in their “safe house” and treated them like a family. This house is the center of activity for “the pod,” as Mike puts it. Amelia, 24, the oldest daughter, explains that the idea of the pod “springs from dolphins’ family groups. It’s called a pod because once a dolphin is part of a pod it never leaves.”

Mike and Carol Vanderberg, who were high school sweethearts, moved to Empire in 1980 from Bay City to run the town drugstore that Mike bought. “We’ve known each other for 40 years,” explains Carol. More recently, Mike has worked at Deering’s Market, and he now runs a production and recording studio out of the Blue Heron across from the town hall. The Vanderbergs have owned the Blue Heron since 1987 and have used it for many interesting endeavors. It was an alternative school for a while, an art gallery, a shop, and now a studio.

But by far, the Vanderberg’s most popular venture has been the Dunegrass Festival. “Back in ’92 we started thinking about having a festival,” remembers Mike, “Back then there wasn’t really a place for local artists.” After pondering the idea, he called a few of his musical friends together, and their brainstorming and initiative gave birth a year later to the annual, popular music festival that draws thousands of revelers to Empire the first weekend of August. “I didn’t think anybody would come,” admits Carol. “I wanted nothing to do with it, and the first day it happened I looked over the hill and saw 800-1,000 people.” Since that day 15 years ago she and the three girls have played a huge part in the festival. “(We were) licking stamps for hours,” Alice recalls about the days before more households had computers. “If I had a box of memories, Dunegrass would be a BIG part of it,” says Ashley.

What Mike calls “a good idea that turned out well,” has ballooned in size since the early ‘90s. “The first year was less than 1,000 people, but last year total attendance was 6,000, and this year we expect more.” Dunegrass has grown from a one-day festival to a four-day event, and it keeps expanding. “We try to bring new things every year,” says Mike. For instance, the past three festivals have all featured beautiful sand sculptures that last for months, built by artists from Florida. Check out the festival’s website, www.dunegrassfestival.com, for a list of bands, and events, between August 2-5.

The Vanderbergs have Grassroots Productions to thank for the expansion of Dunegrass and opening it up to more national acts over the last couple years. According to Carol, “(Grassroots Productions) does the booking and advertising, and we take care of everything in Empire.” Putting the festival together now requires five people working fulltime and 200 to 300 volunteers every year.

“Through Dunegrass I feel like we’ve been able to bring together a crowd of people for a good cause,” says Mike. “The universe is a much better place for having Dunegrass (despite that) we’ve never made money on it, but that’s not its purpose.” Carol boils the festival down to “a party for 2,000 or so of our closest friends.”

Every year the Vanderbergs seem to touch more and more people, from their immediate family, to the pod at their home, to the Empire community, to thousands of Dunegrass revelers. As Mike says every summer as the festival nears, “this year is going to be huge.”

“Almost too much for Empire to handle,” Ashley responds. And yet, it always does.

Posted by editor at 02:18 AM | Comments (0)

Brazilian Capoeira dances into Leelanau County

By Corin Blust
Sun contributor

The word Capoeira (pronounced KAP-oooo-ERA) can be defined as two separate things in Portuguese. It can refer to a small, remote clearing in a field of grass or sugarcane, or it can mean a style of ritualistic, playful dance that emerged in Brazilian culture during slavery. These two things are connected: the clearing in the field was frequently a place where Capoeiristas practiced their dance, which needed to be held in secret.

But why did it need to be secret? Capoeira is not just a beautiful dance; it was originally a way for oppressed slaves to work toward liberating themselves. By engaging in Capoeira, (in Portuguese to practice Capoeira is said “jogar Capoeira,” or in English “play Capoeira”) the slaves had found an artistic outlet while improving their agility, strength, fighting skills and flexibility — elements that greatly improved their chances of fleeing servitude. “It was a way to build up resistance,” Helio Conceição, the local Capoeira master, tells me in his thick Brazilian accent with a little help from his wife, Alita Townsend. “And also a way of expression for the slaves.” Helio (pronounced EL-IO) teaches a style called Capoeira Urbana, or “Capoeira from the streets,” a form that tries to keep with the original street approach to the dance, at the Leelanau Center for Contemplative Arts (formerly Union/Yoga) in nearby Lake Leelanau.

Since Capoeira was originally a slave activity that carried with it unpleasant connotations of gritty oppression, fear, and violence in Brazilian society, the slave owners had it outlawed. However, it was still practiced by determined members of society; its popularity actually grew in the time of its prohibition.

Capoeira was not made legal again until 1942, when a presentation in front of Brazilian dictator Getulio Vargas caused him to reconsider the taboos surrounding the dance. “When he saw the presentation, he realized that Capoeira was an art and a sport that was practiced by all members of society — doctors, lawyers and street kids. It became a good thing for Brazil,” explains Helio.

Helio began Capoeira with his uncle under a big mango tree in Salvador Bahía, Brazil, when he was “maybe five years old.” When he was ready to begin a formal education in Capoeira, Helio went into the Capoeira Kilombolas School, which unfortunately cost his family seven cruzeros per month, or about two U.S. dollars; an amount that he couldn’t afford.

So, Helio said with a smile, “I paid only the first month, and then I found ways to never pay again.” His determination to practice this art in the face of extreme poverty earned him a scholarship at the first Capoeira academy in the world, Associaco de Capoeira Mestre Bimba in Salvador, Brazil. There, Helio was able to become part of a dedicated community of Capoeiristas that influenced his life in a positive manner. “I have never taken any drugs,” said Helio, “Capoeira kept me healthy, it’s a form of healthy street culture.”

Who should take Capoeira? “All people!” says Helio. It’s an extremely healthy, intensive full-body workout that improves agility, strength, flexibility and precision. The class offered in Lake Leelanau will be strictly for adults, though children’s classes are available in Traverse City at Sacred Space Yoga.

“There was a 72-year-old World War II veteran who came to Brazil every year to practice Capoeira, and he looked 55 because of the art,” Helio and Alita tell me. It’s very good for the body. “You won’t realize how great of a workout you got until the next day,” Alita says.

To play Capoeira, the participants arrange themselves in a circle, called a roda, and players go into the middle of the circle in pairs to dance, fight and show off their moves. This circular construction was once very important to the game because it shielded the inner players from the eyes of the law.

Today the circle is still important because it “keeps the energy focused on the players and in the circle. Everybody feels high from the good energy,” said Alita, who grew up on the shores of Lake Michigan near Empire.

The sound of the berimbau infuses the game with its twangy vibrations. The berimbau is a Brazilian instrument that consists of a length of wire stretched across a bowed piece of wood with a hollowed out gourd facing the player near the lower end of the bow. It is held vertically and it is played by holding a small metal disk against the inside of the wire with one hand while hitting a thin stick on the outside with the other hand.

Erin Abernathy, a musically talented girl who works at Sweeter Song farm in Maple City and got to try Helio’s berimbau “thought the berimbau was a surprisingly challenging instrument to hold and play.” Helio, of course, makes it look effortless.

Other sounds involved in the play of Capoeira are the pandero, a tambourine-like instrument, and the clapping and singing of the participants, which combine to create an energy-packed environment that will revitalize the soul.

Classes are offered at the Leelanau Center for Contemplative Arts in Lake Leelanau from 7:30 to 9 p.m. and are limited to those 15 years and older. Drop-ins cost $15 or $90 for seven weeks. Kids classes are being held in Traverse City at Sacred Space Yoga on Tuesdays from 4-5 p.m. The cost is $50 for four weeks. Helio would like to offer more classes, especially for kids, so if you have a time or place that you would like to see a Capoeira class held please email him at serenocapoeira@gmail.com or visit www.capoeiraurbana.org for more information.

Posted by editor at 02:14 AM | Comments (0)

Tom Fordyce rocks

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

Call it cabin fever or, as Tom Fordyce recalls, “I wanted something to do to keep myself busy and thought it was really cool.” After building his last contracted home through Thomas Fordyce Construction a couple of years ago, he discovered he had some idle hours beyond the 40 to 50 hours per week he spends doing home repair around Glen Lake and the two to three nights per week he performs with the local bluegrass band Cabin Fever. So, Tom began burning a little after-hours fossil fuel in his former woodworking shop, now metamorphosed into a workspace for stone cutting and polishing, with a bench for jewelry making.

“I get carried away out there,” he says of his new hobby. “I glance at the clock, and it’s 2 or 3 a.m., and I think, ‘Oh, geesh, I have to get up at six!’”

Tom’s obsession for rocks and gemstones began in earnest almost two years ago at the Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral Show in Traverse City. Meeting like-minded people, joining the club and attending classes gave him the nudge he needed to turn one large rock collection he inherited from his grandfather, Perry Fordyce, into truckloads of natural treasures — mostly North American fossils, minerals and gems obtained from the estates of collectors.

Perry Fordyce’s agates and crystals, including a beautiful specimen of Desert Rose, a.k.a. sand rose, from Oklahoma, had always fascinated his grandson, who remembers gazing at the contents of a three-foot wide by four-foot tall display case in Grandpa Fordyce’s house in the little town of Vermont, Illinois. Tom also remembers his grandpa’s place had lots of stones in the sidewalk and rocks in the gardens. After retiring from 55 years as station master for Burlington Railroad, Grandpa Fordyce liked to travel to Florida in his RV. One of his favorite stopovers included Crater of Diamonds State Park in Hot Springs, Arkansas, the world’s only public diamond mine. For a whopping five dollars, a person can still hunt for diamonds in a rainbow of colors, as well as 40 rock and mineral varieties. Whatever the value of the find, it’s finders keepers for the mine’s serious collectors, vacationers or retired visitors.

Tom, not ready to retire at 58 but, in his own words, “slowing down,” says he’s forever taking his dogs Jake and Ziggy for walks at Empire beach. He also takes trips with the Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral Club to places like Thunder Bay, Ontario, to comb the amethyst mines, or to the Upper Peninsula’s Keweenaw County for copper or dolomite. He shares that the best time to go rock hunting above ground is during or after a rain, when it’s easier to see the patterns and colors. Local beachcombing efforts have netted Tom some nice slag, such as “Frankfort Green” and “Leland Blue,” remnants of past iron-smelting operations. He’s even found a couple of mysterious pieces at the Empire beach he dubbed “Empire Green.” The smooth specimens of dark, variegated green are thought to be a type of basalt from north of the Arctic Circle which were deposited here by a Canadian glacier, or so says Kevin Gauthier, one of the area’s notable rockhounds, author of “Lake Superior Rock Picker’s Guide” and owner of Korner Gem in Grelickville.

In fact, it was Kevin who taught Tom how to cast pieces in sterling silver and another Grand Traverse Area Rock and Mineral club member and silversmith, John Matz, who trained Tom in flatwork techniques he uses to fashion his jewelry. From jade to jasper, opals to fire and leopard skin agate, rainbow petrified wood to Fordite, (layers of paint from the River Rouge Ford Plant), Tom’s list of cabochons he cuts himself from slab or rough goes on and on. “What’s not so good, anything with fractures, becomes a display piece or goes out to the garden,” he said, matter-of-factly.

With three five-pound coffee cans of fire agates alone, Tom’s in no danger of running out of stock anytime soon. Pieces of equipment (slab saws, trim saws and polishing machines) for cutting and polishing his wares have outgrown the shop and are quietly appearing in the garage. Tom’s eyes light up when he talks about someday expanding 20 feet out the back for a separate display room for his collection, a “clean room,” he calls it, with an outdoor courtyard. He thinks about hanging a simple sign on the highway in front of his house that reads, “Petoskey Stones.”

Of pounds and pounds of gloriously colored and patterned stones, many he found on the beach, many from astounding collections, and special, smaller crystals from a Munising friend’s visits to Hot Springs, what is it that most people ask to see and want to use in jewelry? “Gosh, Petoskey stones. Always,” he answered. If people don’t find them on the beach, or they want ones they did find polished or mounted in a piece of jewelry, they tend to find their way to Tom.

“A lot of the stuff I get, I get it so cheaply. I trade a lot with my rock club partners or people who have stones I don’t have.”

One of Tom’s prized possessions is a fossil John Boomer found in his cherry orchard down the street. He also loves the agates: Lake Superior, red plume, fire, leopard skin, crazy lace. He’s also partial to rainbow petrified wood. “It’s hard to have a favorite when they’re all so beautiful,” he said. He’s particularly proud of his collection of Centuryite, the only of its kind in the world. Centuryite? Tom breaks into a wide grin as he explains that the striped slabs are layers of paint from the famed, former Century Boat Works of Manistee. “People will say, ‘There’s my boat!’” Tom says with a mischievous laugh.

A fellow obsessee wants to know how he can bear to let any piece, nevermind his favorites, become someone else’s property. “It’s hard to part with, sometimes, but you see people wearing them. That’s even cooler.”

He does have some favorite moments in his shop, such as the time he opened a geode and found mammoth-sized crystals inside. Then, there are new ways of doing things that bring surprising results, such as the discovery of a buffing compound that puts a shine on Petoskey stones like no other he’s seen. New ideas have come to mind there, as well. As a homebuilder for 30 years, Tom envisions other uses for his colorful slabs. He’s talked to local people about creating custom, gemstone accent tiles. Tom’s kitchen island is decorated with stone, as is his bathroom vanity. A mosaic of pebbles and stones surrounds his garden tub.

“It’s a great hobby. You can stay at home, learn with others or take trips.”

He’s an enthusiastic ambassador for the local geology club, too. “It’s a lot of fun,” he says. “These people are great; they taught me a lot.” With a membership fee of $15 per year and $10 classes of three to four sessions, it’s well within the average person’s budget, too.

For more information about the local rock club and the annual Rock and Mineral Show at the Grand Traverse Heritage Center on Sept. 29-30, visit www.tcrockhounds.com Great information about Michigan rocks and rock-hunting opportunities can be found at www.dayooper.com.

Posted by editor at 02:11 AM | Comments (0)

A Day in the Life of a family at Le Bear Resort

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

For Marty and Judy Ulrich, Le Bear Resort seemed too good to be true. How else could the couple from downstate Grand Blanc, with three busy daughters between the ages of eight and 13, buy a luxurious second home in the Glen Arbor area and enjoy vacations “up north” without the hassles of cooking, cleaning and finding kindling for a beach bonfire? How else could they enjoy the amenities of an upscale resort within cherry pit spitting distance of Lake Michigan, while still being able to walk into town and enjoy all the shopping, dining and culture that our tourism industry has to offer during high summer?

The Ulrichs had been coming to the area, and usually renting at The Homestead, for 25 years, so when Le Bear opened on the north end of Lake Street in early 2005, they jumped on the opportunity to become fractional owners in Glen Arbor. Marty and Judy, an ear, nose and throat physician and a part-time nurse, respectively, paid approximately $325,000 for a 2,600 square foot luxury apartment with three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the ground floor. For six weeks a year (though usually not consecutively), the couple in their mid-40s can sit on their circular couch in front of the fireplace and enjoy the view of Sleeping Bear Bay through the north-facing windows, or soak in the resort’s heated pool that’s open year-round. Or Marty and Judy can stroll the beach while their girls, Lauren, 13, Amanda, 11, and Emily, 8, skip into town to buy ice cream at the Pine Cone.

They take advantage of the amenities their wealthy, gated community provides, while enjoying life in Glen Arbor, too — all while avoiding their car while on vacation.

“The location for me is what sold the deal,” explains Judy, who remembers sitting out on the deck eating pizza delivered by the concierge, while the kids swam in the pool, and she and Marty signed the papers. “We can park here for a whole week and walk around. I love the location and the beach access, but I love the town access just as much.”

Marty believes that Glen Arbor has retained its rustic feel and controlled its growth unlike, for example, Petoskey, where the Bay Harbor resort makes Lake Michigan off limits to the public for miles and miles, or parts of Traverse City, where fast food restaurants and sprawl litter the landscape.

“Here you truly feel up north,” he says. “More people have come to the area and homes have gotten bigger, but all these years later Glen Arbor still has places like Art’s Tavern and the Pine Cone.”

What is a typical day in Glen Arbor like for the Ulrich family? In the morning they go to Barb’s Bakery for cinnamon twists or to Thyme Out for smoothies, and then they make the shopping rounds to staple locations like the Totem Shop, the Cottage Book Shop, Tiny Treasures, T’nT Video and the candy shop at Boone Docks. The afternoon might yield a couple hours kayaking in the bay, on jet skis that Le Bear has delivered on request, or horseback riding. While on vacation the Ulrichs typically don’t eat dinner until 7 or 8 p.m. About half of the time they eat at one of the area’s fine dining locales (“In Grand Blanc we don’t have the choice of restaurants that we do here,” laughs Judy) and half the time they order in, because Judy would prefer not to cook while on vacation. The concierge at Le Bear will pick up from any local restaurant, or Windows Restaurant at Le Bear will also deliver to their apartment.

In fact, what doesn’t Le Bear do for its residents? Judy can email concierge Lisa Rahe with a grocery list before the Ulrichs arrive up north, and they’ll open the door to a fully stocked refrigerator. The cleaning staff will come at a prearranged time every day and take care of the dishes and dirty laundry so that the family can avoid household choirs while on vacation. And yes, of course they leave mints on the pillows.

For the kids, the concierge coordinates pie eating contests, or arts and crafts one day and an ice cream social the next. How about kite flying on the beach or a group roasting s’mores every evening on the beach? The resort provides a detailed itinerary of local events, art openings, concerts, farmer’s markets and anything a family in vacation mode might enjoy. As Judy says, “that encourages us to patronize and spend money locally.” The family recently stopped by Great Lakes Tea & Spice and asked owner Chris Sack to send tea packages to Grand Blanc. They did the same at Cherry Republic.

Last year the Ulrichs spent Christmas in their home at Le Bear, and when they arrived the staff had set up a Christmas tree — a real tree, which the kids hadn’t had before — with the lights already arranged on it. All the family had to do was hang the ornaments. But perhaps the most memorable evening for Marty and Judy was the anniversary they celebrated up north. Chef Randy from Windows came to their kitchen with white linens in hand and prepared a delicious perch fillet with crab puffs and a salad while the spoiled couple drank wine at the counter. For dessert they dipped fruit in a heavenly chocolate. Then, Judy remembers, they walked the beach while the staff cleaned up.

“We are creating memories with our time here,” Judy explains. “We don’t want to work while we’re up here. We want quality time with each other because it will be gone by in a flash. Another four years and the kids will begin heading off to college.”

Posted by editor at 02:08 AM | Comments (0)

Sylvan Inn on cutting edge of reducing ecological footprint

By Ian Vertel
Sun contributor

Several businesses in Glen Arbor are making efforts to reduce their impact on the environment, thereby contributing to the evolution of commerce that is concerned with effect on the planet as well as profit and customer service. For instance, Great Lakes Tea and Spice Company does not use air conditioning; Art’s Tavern emphasizes recycling and uses environmentally-friendly products, and the Leelanau Coffee Roasting Company has replaced much of its technological equipment and machinery with more energy-efficient alternatives as well as changed incandescent lighting to fluorescent bulbs. But the Sylvan Inn, owned and operated by Rose and Ralph Gladfelter, has made the most progress in synthesizing profit and green innovation.

Purchased in June of 2000, Rose and Ralph dreamed a vision for the Inn to exist in harmony with the planet. Coming from a small community in Colorado, they “learned most of their principles of recycling in that community,” which came out of necessity — not wasting something that could be used again and conserving energy. Furthermore, the 1970s sowed the seeds of environmental priority in their minds, as this was a time of “heightened awareness,” explains Rose.

Originally, the Sylvan Inn had no dishwasher, no washer and dryer, and also presented other challenges, due to its age of over 120 years. But this “gave us the opportunity [to make changes]” says Rose. Implementing unity between an Energy Star and Energy Efficient dishwasher and washer-dryer, they began to shape the Inn to match their ideals. They soon realized that they “were using less water than hand washing,” explains Rose. They attached a mesh filter for the water to run from the washers into another sink with an automatic pump, which allows clean water to flow into the drain field without any solid wastes and without the use of excessive energy.

“A lot of things we did at first came naturally,” says Rose, such as “using products with post-consumer waste.” A new roof was also installed on the Inn to “make it tighter” which prevents the loss of cool or warm air, reducing the need for heating or air conditioning. Following this mentality of conserving energy, the Inn offers a community refrigerator “instead of individual refrigerators,” SHE explains, “[because] given the opportunity, people will respond.” There are also programmable thermostats in the rooms to reduce the use of unnecessary energy for heating or cooling, and the lights are on timers to prevent the waste of electricity.

In the beginning, “we didn’t have a whole lot of money,” remembers Rose, so they made improvements “when we could afford to do it right.” These small improvements took form in a variety of ways, such as when fluorescent light bulbs replaced many of the electricity-devouring incandescent bulbs. While Rose calls the process of change a collection of “baby steps,” the principles of recycling and waste reduction have always existed at the Inn, as well as purchasing products locally.

“We try and buy Michigan whenever we can,” says Rose. A lady in Walled Lake makes a cleaning product for the Inn called “Germs Be Gone” that utilizes the antibacterial and antiseptic properties of lavender oil. And to reduce the amount of packaging and plastic, she refills the containers after Ralph and Rose use them. “I would clean everything with white vinegar if I could,” laughs Rose, “but then it would smell like a giant salad bowl!” Ralph and Rose also use micro fiber cleaning cloths, which feature a “super tight weave,” which “[we] can use without cleaning products.” This alternative replaces paper towels, and they have had the “same rags for eight seasons, and are as strong as ever.” The same micro fiber technology is also used for their mops, which use white vinegar instead of callous floor cleaners.

Even the gardens AT the Sylvan Inn represent its green focus. “[We] have irrigation on timers” that water twice a week, says Rose. The flower beds are watered with a soaker hose when needed, insuring that water is not wasted or used in excess. No pesticides or chemicals are used on the lawn or gardens, native plants are used for beautification, and compost replaces harsh fertilizer. Upon discovering peat pots, Rose and Ralph continuously re-use them, which eliminates the need to dispose of plastic pots that cannot be recycled. The hanging plant baskets on the porch are also watered by a drip line, which feeds the necessary amount of water when necessary, rather than constant, superfluous watering.

Along with their ideals and dreams of an eco-friendly establishment, Ralph and Rose are “going for Green Lodging Michigan Certification,” says Rose. There are three levels of certification, and “it takes a year to get certified; the state did a great job with this.” In the process of this certification, “(the state wants) to see you reduce output by five percent on most items,” she explains. An employee of the Sylvan Inn, Hannah Clark, is acting as the liaison with the state to facilitate the application process and the mandated energy audits. Unfortunately, “not many places are in the application process,” says Rose. Nevertheless, both Rose and Ralph are filled with excitement just being on the brink of certification. “We’ve made substantial progress,” says Rose. And even the smallest details greatly contribute to this progress. Nothing is thrown away at the Inn, and disposable amenities, such as bars of soap or travel-size shampoo bottles, are replaced by refillable dispensers of soap, lotion and shower gel in the bathrooms.

As progressive changes continue, Rose explains that “half the battle is just doing the research. If I find something I like, I use it first.” Then, if the product passes the test in efficiency and fulfills the Inn’s mission, it is offered to guests. As Ralph and Rose pursue Green Lodging Certification, they continue to create an atmosphere of community and environmental balance, discovering ways to further reduce the Inn’s ecological footprint.

Read about the history of the Sylvan Inn in our online archives at http://www.glenarborsun.com/archives/2003/06/history_of_the.html

Posted by editor at 02:05 AM | Comments (0)

Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall Visits Peshawbestown

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

Three members of the Grand Traverse Band who died during the Vietnam War were honored recently when a traveling replica of the Vietnam Memorial Wall made a July 13-15 visit to nearby Peshawbestown. The Grand Traverse Band sponsored the memorial known as the American Veterans Traveling Tribute (AVTT). Local organizations and individuals volunteered to assist during the visit, which included ceremonies by Band members and veterans, offerings, prayers and the release of a dove.

The mission of AVTT is to honor, respect and remember American soldiers who have died serving the United States. Of more than 3 million Americans who served during the Vietnam War, 58,256 died, more than 1,800 were listed as missing in action and 153,303 were wounded. Names on the wall include those soldiers who died or were listed as missing from 1957 to 1975. Since 1997, the names of 75 more soldiers have been added but are not included in the above counts.

The wall’s black aluminum panels are 8.5 feet tall at their highest point and span 380 feet. Just as they do at the permanent 493-foot granite memorial in Washington, D.C., people leave messages and tributes of flowers, wreaths, feathers and other items of cultural or personal significance next to or at the foot of the traveling wall, which is an 80 percent replica of the original. Some individuals also take rubbings of the names with them to keep as a remembrance.

The traveling memorial also commemorates those who died in Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait and Djibouti, the latter bordered by Ethiopia, Somalia and the Red Sea. Replicas of the soldiers’ dog tags are displayed under glass; each full display case contains 680 tags. In this exhibition, six cases bearing the slogan “Enduring Freedom, Iraqi Freedom” were counted, with the last dog tag recording a death in Iraq on May 31, 2007.

Among other memorial exhibits was a pair of black columns symbolizing the twin towers, and the names of those who died in the towers and in the planes that crashed into them on September 11, 2001, as well as the names of victims of the Pentagon and Pennsylvania crashes.

More information about the traveling wall can be found at www.avtt.org.

Posted by editor at 02:03 AM | Comments (0)

Glen Arbor’s crowned prince tickles the ivories

This story, about the late Andy Anderson, who passed away earlier this month, originally ran in the Glen Arbor Sun on June 19, 1998

Here in Glen Arbor Andy Anderson’s suave demeanor makes him the local icon. This is the man who owns not one, but five cars that most locals consider luxurious. And he softens women’s hearts every time he churns out ragtime tunes from a piano bench. His storytelling of years past made a lasting impression on me the first time I met Glen Arbor’s most popular man …

You see Andy has yarns to tell from plenty of different places. He fought in the Pacific in World War II; He went to Harvard for a degree in business and played piano with Leonard Bernstein. He started his own business in Akron, Ohio, which has since expanded nationwide. But my favorite stories of Andy’s are from his sailing days in the Caribbean since his retirement.

Listen: “I retired about ‘71 or ‘72 because I had an objective. I always wanted to go back to sea, but not on a light cruiser. So I bought a Ketch. I talked my wife into going along and I convinced my kids to become the crew. We took off and sailed down to the Caribbean. We were fascinated by Costa Rica — the people, their system of government — so we stayed the maximum allowed 90 days. But by the end of the 90 days I knew the immigration guy. He was nice, spoke pretty good English, so I bought him a bottle of rum — a present so I could stay a little longer.”

Andy once dreamed of circumnavigating the globe, but the engine on his boat broke down and he never bought a new one. Anderson has taken more to land toys since then and he’s best known in Glen Arbor for driving classic cars. On any given day Andy might be seen in his ‘84 Mercedes Benz station wagen, his miniscule ‘71 convertible, his ‘80 four-door sedan or his ‘80 Toyota which he’s been restoring ever since he got it. Andy also owns a 1951 Chevy truck, which he only uses to haul furniture.

But mostly he uses a car to come play the piano at the Leelanau Coffee Roasters, where he stops by sometimes four or five times a day. Andy is such a fixture at the Arens brothers’ place that they bought a piano — an antique 1912 Grinnel Brothers piece just for him ... and then moved it to their new location on Western Avenue just for him.

“Moving the Coffee Roasting Company and not the piano would be like moving the U.S. Archives and not the Constitution,” John Arens said.

Posted by editor at 01:57 AM | Comments (0)

A Dogcart, a Flag, and the Slippery Jims

By Jacqueline Tompkins-Weede
Sun contributor

The Old Settlers Picnic

My cousin Jack Sundling sent me a faded picture of two little girls in a dog cart — a picture of his mother Edna and her younger sister Nan. I took the faded picture to Blue Photo on Eight Street in Traverse City.

“Yes,” the clerk said, “if the picture is in focus, Lisa can restore it digitally on her computer.”

A week later, I watched Lisa’s computer keystrokes bring my Aunt Edna and Aunt Nan back to life.

“That’s interesting,” Lisa commented, looking at the screen, “the little one you call Nan is holding an American flag. They must be in a parade.”

The picture had been taken when the Anderson family lived in Burdickville so I called Laura Quackenbush, the curator at the Leelanau Historical Museum for information. She referred me to Dorothy E. Lanham who wrote a book about the Burdickville area. I bought the book and this is what I learned.

The Old Settlers Picnic Grounds

Every year since the early 1800’s, on the third day of August, the people in Leelanau County put down their work, no matter what, and go to the Old Settlers Picnic Grounds to have a day of “frolic.” To the old settlers in Leelanau County, “frolic” was defined as music, games and flirtations — as well as food, drink and conversation.

The Old Settlers Picnic Grounds is a beautifully wooded six-acre tract of land with 200 feet of frontage on [Big] Glen Lake. The property is unfenced with two entrances (one on either side) and one exit in the middle. A small chapel is located on the east side of the road.

The early settlers started having picnics there in the first part of the 1800’s and formed an association to buy the land and make improvements on it. Through donations and memberships, they raised the $450 needed to buy the Property.

So — every summer on August 3, there was a big public picnic. Every family brought its own food in big wash baskets, traveling by horse and buggy or wagon to the Old Settlers’ Picnic Grounds.

Mothers and daughters wore pretty light dresses and broad brimmed hats or poke bonnets, and fathers wore suits with starched collars and bowler hats. Sons, in trousers and white shirts, rolled up their sleeves to that they could play baseball and pitch horseshoes.

In later years, the event was changed into a potluck picnic although there were always several tents called “Eating Houses” where food, beer and cold drinks could be purchased. In spite of these changes, many families still brought their own favorite food.

During World War II, the date of the picnic was changed to the first Sunday in August, and it was not unusual for a thousand people to attend the all-day affair. The Old Settlers Picnic still attracts hundreds of people each summer and everybody, including locals and out-of-towners, agree it is the best picnic in the whole state of Michigan and that includes the Upper Peninsula.

By the time my ancestors, the A.P. Anderson family, moved to Burdickville, the Picnic Grounds had many improvements including a gazebo, benches, several fire pits, and a couple of outhouses on the east side of the road.

The two little girls in the dogcart picture, Edna and Nan Anderson, were going to the Old Settlers Picnic with their parents, brothers and sisters. This is their story.

A Dogcart, a Flag, and the Slippery Jims

Jennie Anderson wipes the cellar dust off from two jars — one of stewed peaches and the other containing her cucumber pickles — the ones her son Seigurd calls Slippery Jims. She polishes the jars until they shine. She is a good homemaker. She likes her food, her house and her family to look good. She works very hard to see to it that they do. She is 38 years old and has six children.

Her big wicker clothes basket is lined with a red checkered cloth that matches the one she will put on the grass — to eat on. She fills the basket with crisp fried chicken, cold roast beef with horseradish sauce, a crock of Bruna Bonor (Swedish Baked Beans), freshly baked Limpa Bread, stewed peaches, Slippery Jims, lemonade, and two apple pies, Appelkaka, too.

She knows there will be huge pots of coffee already brewing over the open fire pits at the picnic grounds, and her husband and Seigurd will start cranking the ice cream maker as soon as they get there. The Potet Salat (Potato Salad) is still in the icebox in a chilled bowl packed in a crock of cracked ice. Jennie will pack the Potet Salat at the very last minute, taking more ice to keep it cold.

Her two little girls are waiting patiently for their mother to tell them they can go outside. They look so pretty in the dresses she made for them. Their dark hair has been brushed until it glistens, and then arranged in fat corkscrews. She uses a curling iron to make their curls, heating it on the cook stove. Edna and Nan are good girls. They don’t even cry when she is distracted and lets the hot iron touch their soft apple cheeks. One last touch, Jennie thinks to herself. She ties red, white and blue ribbons in their hair. Oh, they look so pretty.

She calls to her oldest daughters, Cigne and Sadie. Cigne is 18 and growing up fast. She wants to go to nurses’ training in Chicago. Sadie is only 13 but boys are starting to notice her too. Jennie will have to keep her eye on both of them, and on Seigurd who likes to talk to the girls.

“Ready, Ma? Pa wants to know.”

“Yes, Seigurd, tell him I’m ready,” she said.

The Andersen Family gets to the Old Settlers Picnic Grounds at a quarter to 11 — early enough to get a spot fairly close to the gazebo.

Good, she thinks to herself. We’ll be able to see everything. Jennie spreads the checkered cloth on the ground and starts to unpack her basket. Her family is hungry. She is hungry too.

A band, made up of local musicians, plays throughout the day. They stop only when Rose Meyers starts to play her accordion. The musicians like Rose and pay their respect to her in this way. It is a picnic tradition — Rose Meyers walks around the entire picnic grounds with her accordion and plays like a troubadour, visiting each family like a favored aunt.

Jennie likes Rose’s informal promenade, and she colors with pleasure when the musician sits down beside her. Rose plays a special little song for Jennie and her children, and then she moves on.

Finally, Nan Helm comes to where Jennie is sitting and tells the young mother that someday she will write a book about Burdickville. Jennie believes her. She has never known anyone as smart as Nan Helm nor as talented as Rose Meyers. Only her grandfather. The two women remind Jennie of those golden days in Sweden when her grandfather played his violin and read stories to her from his large collection of books — when students came to his house to take violin lessons. Jennie is glad that she has named her little Nannie after the gifted writing lady of Burdickville. Perhaps she would name her next daughter after the musician — oh, but what if it was a boy?

Edna and Nan get many compliments as they walk around the picnic grounds. Nan waves her flag from the dogcart and Edna leads the patient Jumbo by his collar. He is a good dog. People stop by to talk to Jennie while Peter and Sig play horseshoes with the other men. The day is perfect. The musicians play dance tunes and many couples dance on the grassy space in front of the Gazebo. Finally, Peter looks at his pocket watch. It is four o’clock, and people are starting to drift out of the picnic ground.

Peter says, “It’s time to go home. What will those cows be thinking?”

“Yes, Peter,” Jennie answers. “I’m ready.”

It was a day to remember.

Rose Meyers gave accordion lessons to many people throughout her life, and Nan Meyers wrote two books, Village Days and Village Wags (of Burdickville) and Footprints Where Once They Walked. She also wrote a song called “Glen Lake” that is printed in Dorothy E. Lanham’s book. The Old Settles Picnic Grounds has been declared a Michigan Historic Site with the formal dedication of the historic market on October 11, 2003.

Posted by editor at 01:52 AM | Comments (0)

Change your mind on Global Warming?

By James Coleman
Sun contributor

A “mind set” is a short circuit of a powerful human capacity. When I hear someone talk about “tree huggers,” I don’t expect to have a meaningful conversation about whether there is global warming or not. My information is useless to this person whose mind is, as we say, “made up,” or finished thinking and considering.

I run into this “made-upness” when I talk to my children about credit card debt. The discussion is over before it starts, even though, in the end, the rules of compound interest will enforce themselves on these people about whom I care. The mindset that they must participate in America’s binge of debt is too strong for reason, or so it seems. My thesis is that our state of denial about the science of global warming is similar; we are accumulating debt in the form of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. The interest is compounding, yet denial is the easiest and most acceptable response for the same reasons that people are reluctant to face up to credit card debt. There’s a whiff of Puritanism and an encouragement of responsibility attached, which, the argument goes, life right now is too stressful to permit.

Let’s try another example of a “mind set.” Everyone experiences or practices the highway problem of following too closely. At a mile a minute or more, the two-tenths of a second reaction time when someone’s brake lights come on in front of you ensures that you will cover 20 feet before you apply your brakes. If you are driving a large heavy vehicle, and the one in front of you is smaller and lighter, there can be a further difference in stopping distance of 40 feet. The result is that the vehicle in front of you can stop 60 feet before you can, with obvious results. Two-tenths of a second is an optimum reaction time. Often, it takes a full second to react, or 88 feet. The math is certain, yet drivers characteristically defy the laws of momentum and physics to save four-tenths of a second.

Only a “mind-set” of NASCAR proportions — “I am Dale Earnhardt reincarnated” — can explain the denial of reality in evidence on our roads, even without factoring in eating, applying make-up, and/or cell phoning. Why risk massive personal injury and property damage to save tenths of a second? A desire to test air bags? Defiance of a “police state?”

In this era of mind-sets and quick dismissal of scientific consensus, as long as someone is willing to tell us what we want to hear, a problem such as a threat to the planet which requires attention to scientific fact and a commitment to policies without an immediate tangible result seems unlikely to be addressed. We won’t do what we need to do, anymore than we will back off on the highway, or stop spending on our cards.

The fate of the planet may seem remote as one enjoys the summer ambience of Leelanau County. Tailgaters and plastic problems have been left behind, and all seems forgiven as one samples a cold one at Art’s, or just plants hot feet into the wet sand. “Look into the pewter pot/ to see the world as the world’s not,” the poet A.E. Housman tells us, “and faith, ‘tis pleasant till ‘tis past:/ the mischief is that ‘twill not last.” I’m not going to close with facts and figures. That won’t change your mind anyway. One fellow said to me, “I’m not going to let Al Gore tell me when to flip the light switch,“ and I believe him. Read Elizabeth Kolbert’s Field Notes from a Catastrophe, and if you don’t feel that we live in threatened beauty, then I’ll expect you in the rearview mirror, defying the laws of physics, which is your right.

Posted by editor at 01:49 AM | Comments (0)

Manitou Music Festival presents Northwinds Trio and Whit Hill and the Postcards

Press release

The Manitou Music Festival is excited to present a performance by the classical ensemble, The Northwinds Trio comprised of oboe, clarinet and bassoon performers. This combination of instruments offers a rich, yet homogeneous sound. The members of the ensemble: Gretchen Morse, Stephanie Wernli and Melissa Kritzer bring a wealth of experience and training to the music they perform. The program will showcase works by Haydn, Morse, Canteloube, D’Rivera and Milhaud.

Gretchen Morse received her Doctorate in Oboe Performance from Michigan State University in 1994. She plays Oboe and English Horn in the Lansing Symphony and has performed with many other orchestras throughout Michigan and the United States. Stephanie Wernli lives in East Lansing, and in 2006 she completed a three-year fellowship with the New World Symphony under the direction of Michael Tilson Thomas. Stephanie has a Masters of Music from DePaul University, where she studied with Larry Combs. Melissa Kritzer holds degrees from Northwestern University and Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music. She will begin a Doctor of Musical Arts at Michigan State University in the fall.

The Manitou Music Festival invites you to an evening of fine music and exquisite instrumental performance. The performance is set for Sunday, July 29 at 8 p.m. at the Lake Street Studio Stage in Glen Arbor. Tickets are $18 in advance and $20 at the door.

The next performance in the Festival’s summer-long lineup features Whit Hill and the Postcards. The performance is set for Wednesday August 8 at 8 p.m. at the Lake Street Studio Stage. Whitley Hill was born and raised in New York City, the child of Southern-born actors: a WASP from Mississippi and an Armenian from the moonshine mountains of West Virginia. A child actor herself, she performed at New York’s famed La Mama Theater, with the New York City Shakespeare Festival and the New York City Opera. She is a drama graduate of NYC’s High School for Performing Arts and has a degree in dance from the University of Michigan. For years she was a professional dancer and choreographer; her dances have been commissioned and performed by companies across the country

But she really likes music. As a singer, Whit was a member of the renowned folk band Dick Siegel and the Na-Nas, with whom she toured the country — from New York’s Bottom Line to the Vancouver Music Festival. A prolific songwriter, Whit formed the Postcards in 2001. The band’s two albums, “We Are Here” (2003) and “Farsighted” (2006) have received wide critical acclaim. Whit plays a Martin guitar and loves it very much. Other interesting things about Whitley: Her Armenian grandfather owned a saloon in West Virginia called the Sanitary Lunch. She once unintentionally delivered a friend’s baby by herself. Her dad was on the Sopranos.

Whit Hill and the Postcards was formed in the winter of the year 2001 in order to bring interesting, literate and unexpectedly beautiful alt-country music to the good people of the greater Detroit area. The Postcards are: Singer/songwriter Whitley Hill, Singer/keyboardist/guitarist/husband Al Hill, Bass player Patrick Prouty, and Drummer Chuck Navyac.

Whitley’s husband Al Hill’s credits are too numerous to fully recount here, but in brief, this native son of Ann Arbor has toured the country with his band, the Love Butlers, and is currently music director for soul legend Bettye Lavette with whom he tours internationally. Al’s album “Willie Mae,” co-written with Whitley, was voted Best Blues CD by the Detroit/Windsor Blues Society, and helped the Love Butlers win the 2000 “Best Unsigned Band” competition at Buddy Guy’s Legends in Chicago. Patrick Prouty is a graduate of Wayne State University’s music department, and also tours with Bettye Lavette. Chuck Navyac is a recent graduate of the University of Michigan Department of music.

Manitou Music Festival’s summer of the arts is delighted to presenting Whit Hill and the Postcards in concert on August 8 at 8 p.m. The performance is at the Lake Street Studio Stage. Tickets are $12 in advance and $15 at the door. Tickets for both concerts are available at the Glen Arbor Art Association, Lake Street Studios in Glen Arbor, Cedar City Market in Cedar and Oryana Food Cooperative in Traverse City. More information may be found at www.manitoumusicfestival.com.

Posted by editor at 01:44 AM | Comments (0)

July 12, 2007

Empire’s yoga instructor stretches body and mind

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

The one question Jessica Sharry hears more often than any other is, “What is the purpose of yoga?” The Empire Community Center yoga instructor has had plenty of practice answering. “It’s a method to work out all of the kinks, to stretch and strengthen,” Jessica says. “It’s a great physical workout.”

When she isn’t bartending or waiting tables at The Friendly Tavern, Jessica is teaching Ashtanga yoga on Wednesdays at Empire’s town hall, as she has for the last 18 months, or at Sacred Space in Traverse City. As far as she knows, she’s the only person teaching this particular type of yoga in the area.

Ashtanga yoga is a physical and mental exercise or practice that synchronizes breathing and physical stretching in a series of poses called “asanas” that generate heat and sweat, just as other workouts do. It also focuses the mind.

“Asanas are just as beneficial as any sport or exercise,” Jessica says.

The difference, she explained, between other types of workouts and yoga is, anyone can do yoga — young or old, slim or corpulent, injured or sick. Her contagious laugh bubbles forth as she recalls the one type of person who cannot do yoga. In the words of the grandson of the oldest living Ashtanga yoga master/instructor:

“…a lazy man,” said Sharath Rangaswamy, with a wide smile. “A lazy man cannot do yoga.”

There are eight limbs in Ashtanga yoga, and the third limb is the asanas or postures that Jessica’s class teaches. A person who is not lazy may begin learning a primary set of poses, (such as those taught in Empire), and, once mastered, (as determined by an instructor), consider progressing to the next level. In all, there are six levels of postures ranging from primary to advanced. Most people, though they spend a lifetime practicing Ashtanga yoga, never reach the more advanced levels. Many are comfortable to practice and perfect the primary level of postures.

Unlike other yoga classes, where the instructor leads the class by doing the poses with the students, Jessica said the Ashtanga instructor gives commands verbally while making numerous hands-on adjustments to each student’s pose, correcting postures and reminding students to breathe. After the physical workout, students are encouraged to sit still in meditation. Her students tell her that they leave the 90-minute class feeling better than when they came in, both physically and mentally. The “coolest thing” about the Empire class in particular, she said, is that many are now doing just exactly what they thought they couldn’t do in the beginning.

“It quiets the mind, so you can realize your full potential. Some people say ‘self-realization’ or ‘enlightenment.’ Yoga is not a religion, it’s a practice. It’s a physical and mental practice that can also be a spiritual practice — that doesn’t adhere to any one god or religion — but it doesn’t have to be spiritual.”

Ideally, class would be two-and-a-half hours long, Jessica says, to accommodate a period of meditation that follows the intensity of the workout — but no one today can devote that much time, including the instructor.

In her free time, she enjoys practicing her yoga postures, which she calls her “daily vitamin,” learning Reiki (a Japanese healing art) or playing bass guitar with a friend.

“For a yoga instructor I’m kind of weird, because I like heavy metal music,” she says with a belly laugh.

One of Jessica’s other loves, running, was supplanted by yoga when she found that the vigorous and engaging exercises satisfied her need for a physical workout and balanced her energetic personality.

“I do have a lot of energy, and yoga gives me more, but it’s a more even, balanced energy,” she says, adding that her nickname at work used to be “Stressica.”

A quote by Patanjali, who wrote the yoga sutras, one of the oldest yoga texts, is among her favorites: “Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.”

She says yoga helped her through the deaths of her father and grandmother, a marriage and a divorce. She was so taken with its grounding influence on her life, that she trained as a teacher at the Yoga Hawaii studio in Honolulu with instructors Anthony Carlisi and Rupali. Once, during the 30-day intensive workshop, Carlisi was “so into it” that he led his class in mediation for an hour past time to go home.

“That’s a good example of where yoga can take you,” Jessica says, emphasizing that any style of yoga can confer this type of benefit and many others. “Find a style that suits you,” she says.

Drop-ins are welcome at her Empire class, held at 11:15 a.m. on Wednesdays during the summer and Saturdays the rest of the year. “Be ready to sweat,” Jessica says. The free class is offered through the Community Center, and in-class donations are gratefully accepted. Outside of her regularly-scheduled Empire and Traverse City classes, she offers private instruction to small groups in people’s homes. For more information, call 228-7835 or email her at yogagrrl75@yahoo.com.

Posted by editor at 06:22 PM | Comments (0)

Music in the Dunes

The most popular event of the Manitou Music Festival is the free concert at the Dune Climb, which takes placec on Sunday, July 15 and this summer features the Traverse Symphony Orchestra Brass Ensemble.

Photo courtesy of the Glen Arbor Art Association

Stay tuned in future editions of the Glen Arbor Sun for previews of the upcoming Empire Dunegrass Festival and the circus coming to town in August, as well as essays by Native American activist Lois Beardslee.

Posted by editor at 06:17 PM | Comments (0)

Arts Collage returns to Lake Street Studios for second go-round

By Corin Blust
Sun contributor

The Glen Arbor art scene is traditionally dominated by landscape paintings and folk music, but during the second annual Arts Collage at the Lake Street Studios on July 21, Harry Fried will share something different with our community. Fried has organized a unique event that includes a wide array of diverse artistic media: modern dance, spoken word poetry, independent film, fusion and jazz music, and more.

After renovating the stage behind the Lake Street Studios last summer, Fried decided that the kind of things shown there would center exclusively on art. Tired of the typical commercialistic venues whose true goal in presenting an artist is to sell beer or food, Fried just wants to sell art to his patrons, and hopefully open their minds about the incredible local performers we have in our area.

One of the most important criteria that Fried follows when organizing this event is to give his audience the feeling of an intimate setting. “Most people see performance on television, so they don’t get to meet the performer, they don’t get any kind of personal interaction with the performer or the performance — that’s the normal perspective that the mainstream media gives us on this type of thing,” says Fried.

Performance has a much stronger impact when the artists are right there in real life, not digitized and manipulated by the camera. At the Arts Collage, the audience is given an opportunity to feel included in art on a level that is becoming rare in our world of mega concert venues and Hollywood films. “We aim to give the audience a look at the other stuff right in their own backyard — they might even know some of the performers,” he explains.

The evening will include Mika Perrine, poets from the Beach Bards Bonfire, Jazz North, Gen Obata, The Uborigines, Andrea Maio and Alexandance. All of the performers “have their own take on what can happen in a space,” says Fried.

Mika Perrine is a short fiction writer and graduate student at the University of Michigan where she studies English language and literature [Her partner Matthew McGovern’s pottery was on display at the Center Gallery last month and featured in the June 14 issue of the Glen Arbor Sun]. She will be sharing excerpts from her recent writing. The Arts Collage will also feature spoken word poetry courtesy of the Beach Bards, who perform at the Bonfire during Friday nights in the summer on The Leelanau School beach north of Glen Arbor. “We might not have noticed, but there are some incredible spoken word poets in our community,” explains Fried.

Jazz North is an ensemble of jazz musicians who hail from Leelanau County, while Gen Obata is a folk and roots artist who performs mainly in the St. Louis area. He takes traditional American folk music and infuses it with his own original perspective, writing many songs himself. The Uborigines are a group from Ann Arbor that includes Fried himself. Their sound is a fusion of contemporary musical styles that should be a great addition to the lineup.

It is rare to see independent film in Leelanau County, but Andrea Maio is a local artist who will be showing a clip of her work. Originally from Ann Arbor, Maio has contributed to National Public Radio’s “This American Life,” and is returning to the Collage for her second year. Maio’s contribution last year — a virtual journey down the Mississippi River — was riveting.

This special evening will also include a modern dance performance. “It’s bizarre that you can’t go into a nightclub and see a modern dance performance,” says Fried, who believes that contemporary modern dance is ignored far too often in the world of performance. Leaving out dance from the spectrum is “like walking into a forest and not hearing any birds, or seeing no leaves on the trees, but that’s what the landscape of performance has been for years. I can’t explain it but I can offer an antidote to it.”

Fried’s antidote is in the form of Alexandance, a modern dance duo who will be performing an original composition at the Collage. After meeting at the University of Michigan while studying dance, Alexandra Burley and Alexander Springer discovered that they had a natural harmony, and founded Alexandance in September, 2006. They have performed for renowned artists such as Alexandra Beller, Leyya Tawil, Doug Varone, the Umbigada Dance Company in Colombia and the Leopold Group in San Francisco.

“I think the Arts Collage brings a really refreshing sense of community back to Glen Arbor, allowing us to experience the art together,” says Hannah Clark, a Glen Arbor native who is planning to attend the unique event.

The Arts Collage is on Saturday, July 21, beginning at 7:30 p.m. at the stage at Lake Street Studios in Glen Arbor, across from Cherry Republic. Tickets are $10 in advance and $12 at the door. Tickets are available at Lake Street Studios, or by visiting www.glenarborart.org/mmf_index.asp.

Posted by editor at 06:15 PM | Comments (0)

Protecting the Crystal River’s manmade history

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

Dr. Chuck Olson is on a mission to protect historic structures in the Crystal River. Ever since he and his wife Connie acquired a seasonal home on the river just off County Road 675 northeast of Glen Arbor 20 years ago, the former professor at the University of Michigan School of Natural Resources and former trustee at The Leelanau School has watched historic, manmade structures disappear at an alarming rate. He thinks the culprits are unknowing canoers and kayakers, or the flood of new homeowners on the river who, understandably, believe they are doing a service when they remove hazardous, nail-filled boards for the benefit of future recreation or clean up the river in front of their property.

Glen Arbor boasts two commercial canoe and kayak liveries and a surge of new homes, especially in the Woodstone neighborhood, between 675 and the east end of town, where the Crystal River flows southwest before reversing its direction and emptying into Lake Michigan at The Homestead resort. Not surprisingly, the growth in our area since Olson arrived (he and Connie still spend most of their time in Ann Arbor) has collided with efforts to preserve nature and local history.

“Whoever was doing this was not thinking about it from an historical perspective, or that it might be a violation of existing laws,” Olson guesses.

The structures Dr. Olson pointed out to the Glen Arbor Sun during a canoe trip in mid-June are either remnants of manmade fish sanctuaries — logs or stumps nailed onto much older water control structures in the early twentieth century by Trout Unlimited and the Michigan Department of Natural Resources (DNR) to create fish habitat in the river — or the remains of water wheels from before 1900 that early settlers used to irrigate cranberry fields in the bogs and low swales just east of the river.

In any case, the fish habitat features and the waterwheels are both protected, in principle, under state law and may not be legally removed without a permit from the Department of Environment Quality (DEQ). Olson believes that the structures dating from the 1880s may also be covered under the Federal Antiquities Act.

Though Olson originally thought the DNR held jurisdiction over historic objects in the river, the Department’s conservation agent for Leelanau County, Mike Borkovich, yielded to the DEQ. According to John Arevalo, the DEQ’s Cadillac District Supervisor for the Land and Water Management Division, one needs a permit to place new structures on the bottomland, to excavate or to build a dam — but that rule envisions larger projects that involve heavy equipment. “Someone could easily use their bare hands to remove a structure,” says Arevalo. “Technically, someone drifting by in a boat would need the permission of the structure’s riparian owner to remove it. But the reality is that we have a limited staff and a limited budget. Normally, if there really isn’t a large impact … and if it was impeding navigation … you could probably just remove it.”

Dr. Olson doesn’t necessarily expect government help to preserve the structures in the Crystal River. His primary goal is to inform local residents and canoers that these objects are relics of history, and deserve respect. He appeals to aerial photographs from 1952 for evidence of cranberry bogs, which he believes were once commercially farmed by Native Americans. “That’s why I like aerial photos,” he says. “Some say a photo never lies, but it never tells the whole truth either. A photo only answers the questions you’re asking.”

Local history guru John Tobin corroborates his belief that water control structures there were temporarily designed to transport water over the ridge to grow cranberries, especially when the river was low. Olson believes that the previous owner of his home, Jack Russell, wanted a fish farm on the east side of the ridge and that he paid a contractor and heavy equipment operator named Martin Egeler to dig a pond and use wooden conduits to channel water away from the river before the DNR stopped him.

Olson found a hollowed-out, split cedar conduit on his land in 1989 that may have been connected years ago to a water wheel. He’s also found numerous nails in the river structures — rough and square, clearly forged by a blacksmith — that he believes date back to the 1880s.

Dr. Olson has also been instrumental in initiating other endeavors to promote local history. Through his friendship with Guy Meadows, a professor of naval architecture and marine engineering, and director of the ocean engineering laboratory at the University of Michigan, they brought the M-Rover submarine to Big Glen Lake in the early summer of 2003 to search the depths for the remains of a steamboat called the Rescue, which captain John Dorsey allegedly sank intentionally in 1914 under mysterious circumstances that prompted a community-wide debate and search four years ago. Read about the search for the Rescue on our website at http://www.glenarborsun.com/archives/2003/06/dorseys_sunken.html.

Posted by editor at 06:11 PM | Comments (0)

Sigue Adelante! Guatemalan non-profit Safe Passage moves forward, in Hanley’s spirit

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor

Safe Passage, one of the most successful non-profits in Central America and the guiding light of hope for families living and scavenging for food on the periphery of Guatemala City’s enormous garbage dump, is alive and well despite the death of its founder Hanley Denning in a car accident last January. The Great Lakes Friends of Safe Passage, the local branch of the organization known throughout Guatemala as Camino Seguro, will hold their third annual Fiesta fundraiser on Tuesday, July 17 from 5:30-8 p.m. at the Hagerty Center in Traverse City.

This year’s event, a “Journey to Guatemala,” will feature a “virtual visit” to Safe Passage, live music, food and drink, silent and live auctions of Guatemalan arts and crafts, as well as a short film tribute to Hanley by Leslie Iwerks, whose documentary “Recycled Life” about families in the garbage dump was nominated for an Academy Award. The auction will include art made by the children of Safe Passage, and guests can also buy an “Angel of Hope” like the one Hanley carried on her keychain.

In the wake of Hanley’s passing, northern Michigan locals are playing increasingly important roles in the brain trust of Safe Passage, which now helps almost 600 local children leave the dump’s squalid conditions and pursue an education unimaginable to most in Guatemala’s impoverished, desperate capital. Half a dozen Safe Passage children were recently accepted into some of Guatemala’s most competitive private schools; and Safe Passage was recognized and visited this spring by both U.S. First Lady Laura Bush and Guatemalan First Lady Wendy Berger.

Sharon Workman, of Cedar, was recently named Chair of the Board of Directors at Safe Passage, replacing outgoing Chairman Paul Sutherland of the Traverse City-based Financial Investment Management Group, who started our area’s relationship with Camino Seguro when he met Hanley on an airplane — an event that changed his life. “Like most people who met Hanley, I was so moved by her dedication to these children, and by the difference Safe Passage was making in their lives, I knew I had to stay involved,” says Workman. In the past two years, over 40 area residents have traveled to Guatemala as volunteers on service-learning trips. And Northwestern Michigan College (NMC) just announced a new educational partnership with the organization. Professor Mary Pierce, who returned from a visit to Safe Passage in late June, explains, “It is our hope that we would send students and interested staff and faculty, on a rotating basis, to do volunteer work. It would be an invaluable opportunity for the College to provide this rich and rewarding learning experience for our students.”

Maggie Cassem (who has 10-year-old twins adopted from Guatemala) and her 17-year-old daughter Kaitlynn of Cedar — a future doctor who performed dental hygiene work with the children —were among the locals who embarked on a service-learning trip in February, just three weeks after Hanley’s passing. “I thought I had seen poverty from being down there before to adopt,” says Maggie. “I thought I was somewhat prepared for it. But I just cried when I saw [the people competing with the vultures in the dump for food]. It’s unbelievable what they have to go through to put a meal on the table.”

What struck Wendy Martin, a retired Glen Lake schoolteacher who also visited in February, was the contrast between the dump and its desperation, and the program and the hope it fosters. “You snap a photo of the dump and then turn around and here is this program that offers so much hope, so much faith in the future. [The prevailing mood was not about Hanley’s] death or about how the dump is taking over the city and all human life around it. The new children’s guarderia [daycare] is immaculate. You could eat off the floor in that place, and the kids there are singing, smiling and reading. The overwhelming feeling was one of hope and possibilities.”

Hanley Denning, a native of Yarmouth, Maine and graduate of Bowdoin College, founded Safe Passage in 1999 when she sold her car and computer and returned to Guatemala City to fund a drop-in center for tutoring and shelter. The organization quickly grew into a comprehensive support program that guides children into school and on to graduation. But Hanley, the guiding light of hope for families in the garbage dump, perished on the night of January 18 as she was returning from the capital to her home in nearby Antigua after attending meetings to establish the guarderia so that children in Safe Passage could leave their younger siblings in good hands while continuing their studies. Also killed in the accident was her driver Bayron Aroldo Chiquito de Leon, who was at the wheel.

To those children and their families, Hanley was akin to Mother Teresa. In fact, she was often referred to in the Guatemalan media as the “angel of the garbage dump”. As the news of her passing spread through Guatemala City’s poorest slums, mourners gathered throughout the night at the hospital, and crowds packed the streets at a memorial service later that week, especially grieving mothers with young children. “Before meeting her, I never would have imagined that my children would go far in their studies,” Yolanda Campos, a 33-year-old mother of Safe Passage kids, told the national Prensa Libre.

Hanley twice graced our presence in northern Michigan, most recently at last summer’s Fiesta at the Haggerty Center. Great Lakes Friends has raised over $50,000 for Safe Passage since Hanley’s first visit in 2005. Today, nearly 600 children who live around the Guatemala City dump spend their mornings or afternoons at the program where they receive assistance with school work, a healthy meal (often the only one they eat each day), access to a medical clinic, exposure to the arts, and vocational programs in a caring and safe environment. Many of the children in the program are the first in their families to attend school.

“I want the next president of Guatemala to come out of Safe Passage,” says Paul Sutherland.

Tickets to this year’s “Journey to Guatemala” Fiesta on July 17 at the Hagerty Center in Traverse City are $25 each and can be reserved ahead of time by calling (231) 590-6072 or emailing safepassageglf@yahoo.com. More information about Safe Passage is available at www.safepassage.org. If you’re unable to make it, donations in honor of Hanley Denning — to continue her legacy and sustain Safe Passage – can be sent to Great Lakes Friends, P.O. Box 621, Traverse City, MI.

Posted by editor at 06:07 PM | Comments (0)

Toward Inter-dependence: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness in a Difficult World

By Holly Wren Spaulding
Sun contributor

On the fourth of July we were 20 friends gathered around a long wooden table for a meal of moussaka, rice and greens from the garden. It was a time for collective reflection, not for blowing things up. We didn’t miss the fireworks even slightly. Harriet Barlow, the great social justice activist and one of the minds behind such projects as The Tomales Bay Project which advocates for protecting the Commons, brought out a copy of the Declaration of Independence to be read after dinner. Was it high school when I last looked at this document? I needed a refresher.

Alexis De Veaux, an African American poet and writer stood to read, her voice rich and clear. A voice capable of bringing those words into the present. A magnum of wine was passed, and another, and then Baklava was served on every plate.

Amidst the bunting and barbecues one could almost forget that it was on this day in 1776 that the 13 American colonies unanimously declared their independence from Britain. This is a fraught history, the bulk of which I’ll not go into here, however it bears considering what the reasons for this occasion were, and how they are in dialogue with the present era.

The King of England, failing to be a force of good, was notified in no uncertain terms that, as the signers saw it, people are justified in rebelling against a government that violates their rights and impedes their ability to exercise self-determination. And so it begins: “When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another …”

Forgive me if this seems remedial, but I was startled at how worthwhile it was to revisit this founding document. In the introduction and preamble, the drafters expose their rationale for declaring independence from the Crown, and were, as we remember them, thoughtful and judicious. They believed that in the effort to seek redress for their grievances and concerns, including the wish for a true and functional democracy, they had explored all of the other options available to them. Finally it had come to the point where more assertive actions were needed.

“That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men (sic), deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

The settlers had in mind a revolution, and the “repeated injuries and usurpations” of Americans' rights and liberties are detailed, and King George III is indicted for, among other things, the following:

“He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.”

Does any of this sound familiar? Further on, the list of violations continues:

“He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.”

The list is long and the infractions are serious. Concluding the list of reasons for a revolution, are these words:

“In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.”

You can imagine that in certain company — and the company swells by the day — such a reading would result in plenty of head nodding, “uh-huhs,” and sighs of recognition and agreement. If you haven’t lately, consider re-reading this founding document. It is by no means without flaw or error, chief among them the contradiction in the introduction which states that “all men are created equal” while we know that several of the signers kept African slaves. Likewise, in the body of the text, Native Americans are referred to as “merciless savages.” It is a complex and in certain respects, troubled document, but it is also critical in the formation of this country as we know it. Perhaps in reading it we can remember some of our ancestral urges toward independence.

******

Have you heard how Northern Vermont has lately produced a secessionist movement? They call themselves the 2nd Republic. No kidding. Without pronouncing on whether or not this is an effective strategy for political change, I did notice while I was there that people have an independent streak that is most notably expressed in terms of preserving land and solidifying local economies, especially with respect to renewable fuels and food. These are things worth emulating, even whilst embedded in a federal structure that is overwhelming, cumbersome and often lacking in mindfulness toward sustainability, true political participation or inter-dependence.

******

It seemed like a grave and serious occasion to be gathered on July the Fourth. On the one hand, we have this opportunity to remember our history of rebellion against tyranny and illegitimate authority (while, unfortunately, at the same time our fore-bearers brought oppression upon this country’s first inhabitants). On the other, Independence Day does not give much attention to this these days. I’m not one for bombast and flag waving, and even less so when the flag is being plunged into the heart of another nation whose own independence is thus in peril. Hence, some of us thought a Fire of July would suit the mood.

******

Circles are comprised of sensual swerving, curves, should be inclusive, contain many, and often invite good conversation. Fire is elemental, and being hot, we remove layers, imagine what can be burned, is burning, the flames eating toward some form of purification. In terms of psycho-geography and the above, one would do well to construct seating around a fire ring in such a way that those approaching feel welcomed, eager to participate as equals in a forum. Makers of fires should construct entrances through which to enter the circle, and to one side, heap kindling and wood. Turn off the house lights. Stay out until it is truly dark, then later still. Watch the stars flicker.

******

Some of those assembled at our fire read poems, and everyone shared somber thoughts. It was a rare coterie, it being rare that any group of people will plunge into such unabashed acts of sincerity. Conversation turned from history to severe storms and recent cases of catastrophic weather — tremors, as we all saw it, portending an increasingly uncertain weather future. We’d been talking about the scale of human suffering in a world where conquest continues, where war is easy, fast, lethal and beyond our comprehension. We each had our own questions about what we can do, and what can be done. We all wonder how to comprehend what it means that today three young enlistees are dead from a roadside bomb? That a family has gone up in flames when the rocket missed its target? That million-year-old ice is melting. That dozens, hundreds, thousands yet to be counted, are having their lives cut short every week — for whom? For what? We read the papers, and we catch fragments of what is happening in Iraq, Afghanistan, Gaza; we turn the information over in our heads — or don’t. How can I feel the meaning of this stuff? The mind boggles, the heart numbs, the suffering of so many people and landscapes is relentless.

******

Reading “Patriots for the American Land,” an essay about the Tongass National Forest by Richard Nelson, I find some solace in his words on how we can manifest our desire to truly belong and be helpful in a difficult world by caring for it: “This is the place that nurtures and sustains me; the place on which — and for which — I stand; the place where my engagement with democracy is rooted; the place where I have found an unbeckoned and unexpected sense of patriotism.” I know many people — though I wish I knew more — who express this sentiment in the work that roots them in Leelanau County. If we could each find our place, dig in, and do the work of giving care and fostering life, then the horrors of the world would have a better match, a force for good that might tip the balance.

Concluding his essay, Nelson says, “Working in service to the land is a powerful source of hope — the kind of hope that comes by doing something rather than standing by in the face of loss. By this I mean working to protect both the natural environment and the human traditions that infuse every place with power and meaning. There is real joy in this work . . . ”

Posted by editor at 06:02 PM | Comments (0)

The path of Laughing Waters

By Ian Vertel
Sun contributor

Carol Laughing Waters: “[that’s] a name I received in a waterfall in Yellow Stone National Park.” During a trip of camping and traveling, Carol of Maple City says, “it was very clear that that was my name. It was my first real experience of connecting with the Earth.” At first, Carol only used the name in circles of close friends or gatherings. However, she says that it became even clearer that Laughing Waters “was my legal name and I had to claim it.” She describes how, according to Native American tradition, names often change and are something one has to grow into. For Carol, it was for her to become a “laughing person [with] more lightness and joy.”

But it wasn’t always easy for Carol to use her true name. It was “difficult to use that name; I was feeling fear which was mine to overcome,” remembers Carol, filled with apprehension that native people would judge her. However, her fears were dispelled when native elder John Bailey told her at a Bioneers Conference that “there are many ways of knowing,” quotes Carol. She was giving a workshop on natural dyes and weaving — one of her passions — when John cast out her fear.

For 10 years, Carol has been a weaver. Initially, she used harsh, chemical commercial dyes, but became concerned when she saw other dyers who used the same products fall ill. At this point, “[I became] curious about the plants” and the dyes they could offer. Simultaneously, she immersed herself into the medicines of the plant world, and as a member of the Weaving Guild, she “met other women interested in the medicines.” Soon after, she decided that it “was time for us to get together and explore the medicines of the plants. We were small in number, but strong in passion,” describes Carol. As a result, the Herbal Alliance of Northern Michigan was organized, with Carol as one of the guiding members on the “Steering Wheel,” a group of the original herbal enthusiasts who wanted the power of directing the group to be shared equally rather than distributed in a system of hierarchy.

Fascinated in the healing power of the herbs, Carol has allowed the medicines of the plants to come to her when they are needed instead of seeking them out. “I watch what grows around my door and my land,” she comments. She remembers how she fell in love with the perennial plant boneset, a remedy for flu, fevers and viral infections. In turn, she harvested much of the enchanting plant. That winter, Carol, who will turn 70 in September, became ill, plagued by high fevers and intense night sweats. The sickness held onto Carol, reoccurring in severe bouts. She finally researched the properties of boneset and discovered that it was the perfect medicine for her condition. The remedy found her before any sign of illness manifested, as “it would have been pretty hard to find in the winter,” Carol now says in a lighthearted tone.

While Carol practices her own herbal medicine or receives alternative medical care from other practitioners, her true passion is for healing the Earth. “I have huge amounts of grief because of what’s happening” to the Earth, she says, due to all the harm human beings are incurring on the planet. But Carol will not allow the sadness to consume her and cloud her vision. “I can spend the rest of my life grieving, or I can see what I can do to be a part of the solution.” Along with working with the herbs and natural dyes, and teaching how to return to natural ways of living, Carol directs most of her energy to the formation of a Community Land Trust. “I’m concerned with the land in Leelanau County and how fast it is disappearing,” she explains, which has a profoundly negative effect on the community, deterring young families from starting their lives here.

A Community Land Trust “is about giving the land back to Herself (the Earth); this ownership thing is something we made up,” says Carol. In a Land Trust, a person can put a piece of land in it, but the Trust holds the title. Homes, farms, etc. can be built on the land affordably while still insuring that “it will never escalate” in terms of development, explains Carol. Another advantageous result of the formation of a Community Land Trust is that “land will never be used as a commodity.” The Trust can also stipulate whatever parameters it decides are necessary to preserve the pieces of land. For instance, one such stipulation could be that the farming done on a particular parcel of land must be organic to promote sustainability and extend protection to that ecosystem.

But while some support exists for the Community Land Trust, Carol encourages people to become motivated and active, as the current proponents are just a “handful of people,” she says. The proponents of the Land Trust have met with the Michigan Land Use Institute and have had extensive interviews posted on the website. Furthermore, this group has also approached the Leelanau Conservancy and the Grand Traverse Conservation District, and are currently “seeing what types of collaboration” can occur. Carol invites anyone interested in learning more about the Community Land Trust or who wishes to become involved to contact her at (231) 228-6591. She is confident that support will grow like the herbs, appearing when the time is right.

Posted by editor at 05:59 PM | Comments (0)

Immersion under the crescent: an exchange experience in Istanbul

By Codi Yeager
Sun contributor

“The city is CRAZY!” wrote Zambak Bayrakcan, aka Lily Springsteen. Her e-mail, dated June 10, was flowing and excited, a rush of words that, piece by piece, created a wonderful, jumbled picture of her Turkish home. For the past year Lily, a resident of nearby Long Lake Township, has lived halfway around the world, in Istanbul, as part of a Rotary Exchange program.

A culture shock unlike any other for an upcoming senior at Glen Lake High School, Lily says her exchange was, “not only U.S. to Turkey, but also small town to metropolitan city. Everything [in Istanbul] is unorganized and unexpected. The streets are in no pattern whatsoever.” Add that to the time, which seems only to exist because of the five Islamic calls to prayer, and a mass of stores, cafes and bazaars, and you have a tumbling, turbulent Eastern capital. “There’s lots of horn honking and yelling; the people are so dramatic, very passionate about everything. They worry about everyone and everything is their problem,” says Lily. “It can be overwhelming, and when I first got here it was unbearable, but I’ve gotten used to it and see now that it is because they care about everyone and want everyone to be happy and comfortable.”

Despite the initial alarm at the commotion, Lily found that she enjoyed the chaos and confusion, and especially liked the bazaars. “In each section of the city on a certain day, starting in the morning, they begin setting up their tables under big white tents. There are fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, cheese, olives, fish, knick-knacks and vacuum cleaners and hair clips and clothes … anything you could want, you can find,” she said.

In addition to sifting through the traditional bazaars, Istanbulians do their shopping at modern malls and stores, much like in the United States. However, unlike in northern Michigan, in Istanbul the right clothes are absolutely essential. “Women dress very nicely here. They wear lots of makeup, skirts, jewelry and heels,” says Lily. “It is popular and not unusual to go to the hairdresser multiple times a week.” Istanbul’s male population is also concerned with fashion. “[They] dress nicely too, but not to my liking … they gel their hair and wear lots of purple and dress shirts with jeans and pointy black shoes. And lots of cologne,” she adds.

Taking a break from the busy streets, the average Turk might stop in at one of the many tiny cafés to socialize and drink tea. “Turks drink tea 24/7,” says Lily. “There isn’t so much to do during the day, so everyone goes to the café and sits for hours and chats with friends. It’s like a wasting-time method.” Like a mini vacation, teatime is a chance for relaxation, something that an eager, first-time visitor might find as a nuisance. “I didn’t like it at all when I came, but now it is wonderful to sit down and do nothing and have no plans to do anything for the next few hours.” Of course, you can’t take the break without the tea. “If you sit down for more than 10 minutes, you will be given a little cup of tea,” she explains.

In a Turkish home, not only tea that appears in front of you, but also endless helpings of delicious food. “If you even go to a friend’s house, just to say hello, you won’t get out of there without food in your belly. They love to give and serve. It doesn’t matter whether you are best friends and have known each other for years; you are a guest, and your food will come on a silver tray,” says Lily, who fell in love with the food as well as the city. “They have fresh everything. Fruits — they make lots of sugary desserts with them — and vegetables: they cook them with olive oil at every dinner, breads, pastries, cakes, desserts …” She pauses to explain baklava, which is “thin layers of crisp pastry with crushed nuts in between and is soaked in honey or sugary syrup,” then continues with a story about her friend’s mother.

“Last night at dinner, I finished my plate and she asked, ‘should I give you more?’ I said ‘no, I’m full.’ She asked again and again and then ended up putting more food on my plate even after I explained over and over that I couldn’t eat anymore.” In Turkish culture, Lily says, people may want the food, but to be polite they say ‘no thanks’ and decline over and over, so people just give them food anyway. “I told her that when I say ‘no’, it means no. But it is only because I know her well that I can say these things to her and not eat her food without being rude.” As the hours whittle away, either drowned in tea or food, the only reminder of real time is the muezzin’s fourth call to prayer, when the day is three-quarters over. It beckons devout Muslims to stop, face Mecca, and pray; once again revealing that Istanbul is an Islamic city.

“A lot of the culture differences that I see have to do with the religion. Turkey is 98 percent Muslim,” says Lily. Walking down the street, she observed that, on average, about half the women wear headscarves. Once, Lily decided to go to a mosque along with other Muslim women. “It was on a holiday, so it was FULL,” she remembers, “I covered my head and went in, but had to go up into the loft where the women sit. They aren’t allowed to sit in the main area; they have to walk up these tiny little stone stairs and sit in their balcony and watch. It was very interesting. The prayer is sung by the muezzin on a loud speaker and is very different [than anything in the Christian world], but pretty.”

In a primarily Islamic country, women’s rights are certainly different from those in our country. “There are places I am not allowed to go because I am a woman. I had never seen anything like that in the United States, and the first time I saw it, it freaked me out. There are also places I don’t want to go because I’m a woman,” Lily continues. However, the variations in rights between men and women do little to restrict a confident, Turkish female. “These places that I can’t, and that I don’t want to go, are few. If a woman says and knows she has rights (which she does by law) then she is respected and treated equally.”

This is especially true in the school setting, as both males and females receive an equal high school education. Lily, on the other hand, is restricted by another factor: language. “At school, I don’t actually do any classes. I tried at first, but all the teachers asked me why I was trying, and what was I doing? I knew no Turkish at the time, so I spent most of my time at school learning Turkish from a book and then practicing with the kids at break.” Of the 15 Rotary Exchange students in Istanbul, only five learned Turkish, including Lily. “I’m not fluent,” she says, “I can speak and have conversations and understand, but it is a very creative Turkish. I have people who understand me, and people who don’t at all.”

She offers as a contrast speaking with her friend Damla, who understands Lily and speaks slowly so she can understand, and speaking with Damla’s mother. “Her mom has NO idea what I’m saying. So Damla translates from Lily Turkish to real Turkish,” she says. What helped her learn the language the most though, since she had no formal Turkish schooling, was when, “I started going to the library. I spend all day talking with the librarian, Ijlal, who knows no English, so I speak only Turkish with her, and it is the best Turkish class ever. She is my best friend here.”

Lily has made many friends and many memories during her stay. In another e-mail she wrote, “I’m living up my last few weeks,” before her return to the United States on July 9, which is sure to be a bittersweet journey. And though it is difficult to leave a place that’s come to be home, especially a home as unique and vibrant as Istanbul, it is only by leaving that one can anticipate returning.

Posted by editor at 05:55 PM | Comments (0)

LOST in Leelanau — Part II

By Pat Stinson
Sun contributor

What follows is the continuation of a story we ran on June 14, with a not so cheery ending. We hope you’ll like this conclusion much more.

Leelanau County Animal Control Officer Paul Peschel took my little, lost Boston Terrier buddy, Grumpy, in the pet carrier to Cherryland Humane Society. Officer Peschel said Grumpy lived up to his temporary nickname while being transferred from the carrier to the shelter cage. After recently giving a little of his trust to a stranger (me) and having it abruptly taken away, Grumps was entitled to his grouchiness. Some lost animals that display aggressive tendencies while roaming free settle down once they are accustomed to their cage and the care of the shelter attendants, he said. I hoped that would be the case with Grumpy.

“A dog acts differently than when it’s just me chasing it around with a bite stick, (stick with a noose on one end),” he explained.

In the summer months, Officer Peschel responds to 70 to 80 complaints per month, anywhere in the county. The exception is the National Park, where he has no jurisdiction. Some calls are about lost or wandering dogs. (For those of you who are wondering, cats are considered “free will” creatures and aren’t, he said, covered under municipal law, though he tries to be helpful over the phone.) Other calls result in various animal control duties, including getting cows back into their pasture, removing dogs from chicken pens, gathering loose livestock or poultry and responding to neglect or abuse cases.

Officer Peschel said his best stories are about lost dogs that can be identified by tags or microchips. Less than half of the dogs he captures (such as Grumpy) have identification.

One of his big frustrations, he said, is when a dog runs away from him. If it’s wearing a tag, however, he can try to read it through binoculars. If the tag is from a veterinarian, he will call the vet’s office to obtain the owner’s phone number.

His favorite story is about a dog found wandering near Fort Road and M-22 with a Louisiana veterinarian’s tag. He called the New Orleans area vet’s office and got the dog owners’ phone number. When he called the number, an answering machine message conveyed the news that the owner had recently moved to Suttons Bay and it also supplied the new phone number. The dog was returned to its owner just half a mile from where it was found.

A person finding a dog at large with tags should try to locate the owner first, if he or she recognizes the dog. If it’s not wearing tags or the dog isn’t familiar, call the Sheriff’s Department.

“Don’t approach it, unless it comes to you,” he said. “If it’s near its own property, it may be more protective.” Whether or not the dog is wearing tags, if the dog is injured or unfriendly, (telltale signs of the latter may include ears back, tail down or between legs and otherwise acting nervous or afraid), call Animal Control.

“Be wary, because you can’t always tell,” he continued. “A wagging tail doesn’t always mean (it’s) friendly.”

Preferring to call himself a “dog finder” rather than “dog catcher,” Officer Peschel, though he’s been working in Animal Control for six years, still has tense moments of his own when approaching and capturing dogs.

“My most hesitant moment is lifting the dog from the ground to the truck, when the dog is at face level. The dog is the most vulnerable and so am I.”

Once Leelanau Animal Control brings the dog to Cherryland, it is observed carefully by staff to check its condition and behavior. Grumpy’s tail was bleeding and his eye was irritated, but he otherwise seemed to be in good physical shape. Since he wasn’t wearing a collar, he would not be put up for adoption for five days, in order to give the owner an opportunity to call and claim him. Officer Peschel said dogs with collars are given seven days before they are made available to adopt. Shelter attendants evaluate the dog’s temperament according to a classification system in place since 2003. Categories, as listed on Cherryland’s website, include: A - Adoptable to any home, B - No first time dog owners, C - No children (pre-schoolers), D - No other dogs or pets, E - No elderly or disabled persons.

I called on Grumpy’s condition a few days after he arrived at the shelter and discovered he was, indeed, a Boston Terrier, and that he had been named “Star” for adoption purposes. Star had given one of the attendants “kisses.” I was thrilled … and little more hopeful about his adoption chances. What I didn’t know was that Grumpy’s photo, description and classification codes were posted on Cherryland’s website, along with those of the other dogs and cats. (Cats are not assigned temperament codes.)

“Cherryland’s crew does a good job of deciding adoptability,” Officer Peschel said. “Unless a dog is unidentified and aggressive or bit someone, they work very hard.”

In fact, the shelter has a waiting list of people hoping to adopt certain breeds, something else I didn’t know when I was postponing my call to Animal Control.

For those two reasons, I was taken completely by surprise when I called Cherryland two weeks after Star was “admitted” and was told he had been adopted. I was ecstatic, in fact, until my husband came home and asked me if I would spend the same energy on a homeless person sleeping in our outdoor lean-to. Could we be guilty of calling ourselves stewards of the planet when we help man’s best friend, while sometimes ignoring the “man?”

Officer Peschel might be in a better position to (unwittingly) answer these questions. At home, his critter companions include a cat, three dogs and llamas. An EMT and EMT Specialist, he spent 17 years in emergency dispatch before joining Animal Control. Over the phone, he has helped mothers breathe for their babies and guided the novice to perform successful CPR. When the county A.C. position became available, he answered the “call.” Of the less than 10 dogs or so per year he guesses are purposely released in Leelanau County without collars, he said, “It would be like turning out your child and having it fend for itself.”

Then, he added: “To help things that can’t speak for themselves takes it to a different level.”

Thank you, Officer Peschel, and thanks to Cherryland Humane Society, an organization that truly promotes stewardship.

The number of the Leelanau County Sheriff’s Department (ask for Animal Control) is (231) 256-8800. For more on Cherryland Humane Society, visit www.cherrylandhumane.org

Posted by editor at 05:46 PM | Comments (0)