Last Memorial Day I discovered the Field of Heroes sponsored by the Westerville Rotary Sunshine Club.  If you only have time to read one blog about Memorial Day in Central Ohio, I suggest you go back to that blog.  I was inspired after my visit.

The display deserved another visit, and it was nothing like the first time to the memorial.

We had no spring in Central Ohio this year.  In April, I had delays in my mural project because of snow and cold.  And now, in May, it's sweltering around 90 degrees.  Last year, the flags waved in the gentle breeze, which made for some beautiful photographs.  This year, the flags hung limp in the dead, still blistering heat.   I didn't manage the situation any better.

However, the biggest difference between this year and last year was my introduction to the Thin Blue Line flag.  In case you haven't seen it and don't know what I'm talking about, it's a black and white version of Old Glory, with a thin blue line crossing the middle of the flag.  It's meant to honor the men and women of law enforcement.  I am here to testify, the first time I saw it, I had no idea behind the meaning of the flag.  It was a little shocking.  Research was required!  Immediately!

Unfortunately, in the past year, people of Central Ohio have become all too familiar with this flag, its meaning, and the sacrifices made by too many of those who put on the blue uniform.  This past February, two officers were slain in the line of duty as they approached a domestic disturbance.  It had never happened before in the quiet community of Westerville.  The citizens of Westerville were pulled together in grief and unity as never before.  Westerville Strong T-shirts, flags, banners and bumper stickers are common sights these days.

In addition to the field of red poppies (which are meant to represent Flanders fields in Belgium), this year there was a collection of blue poppies at the Field of Heroes.  It gave a new twist to Memorial Day for me.  I've always known that the day was meant to honor those who have lain down their lives in sacrifice so that we may enjoy the freedoms we have today.  Somewhere in my memory, I recall a fact that one million people have given their lives in the defense of our country from the Revolutionary War to the Civil War and on through Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East and too many other locations.  But in the past, on Memorial Day, I've only thought about those who have given their lives on distant shores.  The blue poppies, however, reminded me that those sacrifices are also much closer to home.  We have much to be thankful for on this holiday, thankful for those who heed the call abroad as well as for those who protect us on our shores. 

Be thankful, wave the flag and remember.

Two years ago I contacted schools in Central Ohio to introduce my murals and hopefully generate local interest.  It didn't.  And then, I was discovered by U.S. embassies and I never looked back. 
 
That was then.  This is now.
 
In the past year, I contacted approximately 180 embassies.  Several expressed genuine interest.  A few talked about specific months.  None committed to actual dates.  As months ticked by, I decided it was time to give schools another try.  If I could contact nearly two hundred embassies, I could certainly do as well in Central Ohio.  I contacted more than two hundred fifty elementary, middle and high schools throughout Columbus and the surrounding counties.  E-mailings included messages, photos and videos to principals, assistant principals, art teachers, librarians and special needs teachers.  I decided it was best to cover all of my bases.  In other words, I threw an extremely wide net. 
 
I didn’t get as many bites, or even nibbles, as you might expect or I might have hoped for.  One principal said that the e-mail address located on the district website was not the one normally used.  Whatever the reason, not many people replied.  But, thank goodness, it caught the eye of the principal of Tremont Elementary School in Upper Arlington.  He had a committee that wanted a face-to-face.
 
It was obvious as soon as I entered Tremont Elementary, that this was the kind of school anyone would want their child to attend.  It was clean.  It was cheerful.  It was bright.  And, the art teacher must have been amazing because terrific student art was visible everywhere.  As it turned out, there were three art teachers.  And, as I sat down to brainstorm with them and their principal, I kind of wondered, “Why am I here at this building that has three art teachers, one of whom is a Columbus muralist?”
 
The answer to that was, I do something amazing and what they wanted was something bigger than any regular classroom teacher normally had time to do.  The people at Tremont Elementary School wanted one of my largest murals ever, eighteen yards by two yards, and they wanted every student in the school to participate in the project.  Every student included about six hundred fifty children.
 
No other school had ever asked that of me before.
 
The brainstorming session went well.  I suggested a mural similar to one I created in another corner of Columbus at the NNEMAP food pantry.  My idea was huge letters in the background spelling TREMONT with designs inside each letter.  The committee I met with wanted student input in the design.  I had the perfect suggestion.  Yes, sometimes that happens.  Each letter of the mural could represent a specific grade level in the school.  Students could brainstorm the collection of events that they most remembered from that year.
 
The mural was planned for an exterior wall by the playground.  I had plenty of time to plan for it.  Since it was outside, I had to wait six months for winter weather to pass.  That sounds like an incredibly long wait, but it was an unusually awful winter in Ohio with cold, rain, snow, more snow, bitter cold, a hint of spring and then tornadoes, flooding, more rain and repeatedly more snow over and over.  I expected all along for the mural to start on April 1st.  I guess I was the fool this time.  The freezing, horrid, extremely miserable weather lasted a few weeks longer than that, with an extra freezing mess thrown in for good measure the day we were supposed to start painting.
 
It gave the teachers plenty of time to prepare the students for my arrival.  I have never been to a school more prepared.  Other places have put up signs in the past and told their students and parents I was going to paint, but these kids were really, really prepared.  One of the art teachers created a PowerPoint presentation about me and shared it eighteen times.  I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself.  Anyway, obviously, every kid with ears to hear, heard about the most non-famous world-famous artist on the planet who was coming to their school.

They knew my name.
 
The mural was so large that it took three days of preparation.  (Usually, it only takes about three hours.)  One day was used in painting a primer on the brick wall and then it took two days to sketch the design.  That meant, there were a lot of recesses when the muralist was on display, drawing, for all the world to watch, at least the world of Tremont.  And, much to my amazement, there were always kids who wanted to sit down along side of the mural and watch it take shape.  What kind of kids give up their recess time to do that?  I guess the answer is the kind that have an art teacher who gives eighteen PowerPoint presentations.
 
The kids were uniquely interested in the design.  After all, it depicted their suggestions and they were so very familiar with the contents included in each grade level.  I might not have understood each event, but the kids surely did.
 
T Kindergarten:  One of the highlights of the year was hatching eggs.  The littlest Lions at Tremont had their own playground with a unique kind of swing.  They also made rockets and had reading buddies with older students.  And, they had a pet teddy bear that mysteriously disappeared on campus.  They needed scavenger hunts to locate their friend.
 
R Grade One:  I knew I liked Tremont Elementary when I heard about the Buddy Bench.  If you happen to sit on it during recess, it means it’s a day when  you need some special T.L.C. and those who sit on this bench find it given by other caring kids on campus.  Birds were studied and bird houses constructed in grade one.  They enjoyed a roller skating party and participated in the Turkey Train, where food supplies were gathered school-wide for those in need.  I assume that 100 Days of School is a big event in most first grade classes.  And this year, Upper Arlington celebrated its 100th anniversary.  So, I included a huge 100 in the background of this letter.  To make it even more special, every participant put their thumbprint inside the “one hundred”.   In the bottom left corner of each grade level, I indicated the target grade.  Therefore, for first grade, I put a one.  It wasn't intended, but some very clever students noticed that the wheels of the wagon next to that one created an additional "one hundred".  I seriously wish I'd thought of that.

E Grade Two:  As a part of a community fund-raiser, student art is sold at an auction.  This young artist painted a dinosaur.  Along with those critters, rockets and butterflies were studied in grade two.  The whole school celebrated Cake Bingo.  I must have just missed it because one young girl was very excited to tell me about it.  Nobody saved me a piece of cake.
 
M depicted a map of Upper Arlington and their very unique lion mascot.  The quote to live by, above the entrance to the elementary school, was "Growing Together".

O Grade Three:  Tremont Elementary was located right next to the community swimming pool, which was a big event in Grade Three.  They celebrated with an Ice Cream Social and were introduced to Guitar Club.  The Empty Bowls program introduced the students to world hunger and water shortages.  And, as Hunger Warriors, they created sack lunches to help solve the problems locally.
 
N Grade Four:  An introductions to strings came in Grade Four.  Other ways to express creativity were through Valentine boxes and Intramurals.  The wagon wheel was part of their study of the Old West and Packing for the Street was another program to make meals for the hungry.

T Grade Five:  The oldest kids at school had a luau and participated in a mile run.  In addition to that, there was a Grade Five Breakfast.  At the end of the year, the Clap Off was an event to walk around the school and celebrate, applaud, a very good year at Tremont.
 
It took a lot of parent volunteers to help pull off a mural this huge.  The whole process took about four weeks, with a few snow and rain days in the mix.  But, it was a tremendous success for the entire community.  Of course, I'm going to say that, but the best comment came out of the mouth of one of the boys as he painted.  He declared, "I'd rather paint a mural than have recess any day."  Can a kid possibly give higher praise?  I seriously doubt it.

One of the Peace Corps volunteers with me while I was in Liberia had what I have always considered to be the greatest last name ever.  Love.  I'd never heard of that as a name before.  Seriously, if that was my last name, I'd sign all of my letters simply "Love".  So, this has been my favorite last name for many, many years.  But, it might have met its match with Ndayishimiye.  Even though I can't really pronounce it correctly, my friend Gerard from Rwanda has this wonderful name.  In his language of Kinyarwanda, it means "thank God".  Every time he says his name, it's a reminder to be grateful.  And, I believe Gerard does just that.  Yep, Love has finally met it's match.

I met Gerard three years ago when I painted murals at local schools in Costa Rica with students from Earth University.  Gerard was one of two students from Rwanda to earn full scholarships to this agricultural university.  It had an amazingly diverse population with students from all over the world.  Everyone attending had to learn, speak, study and write in Spanish.  But, I spent a lot of time with the African students because most of them also spoke English. 

Even if Gerard spoke no English, I would have wanted to know him.  As a child, he survived the Rwanda genocide that took place in 1994.  He lost his parents and many other family members.  But, you'd never know it if you spoke with Gerard.  I fear if this happened to me, I'd struggle with anger, resentment and just plain bitterness.  Not Gerard.  He is one of the most gracious, kind and positive people I've ever met.  It was his decision to live this way.  His personality is a magnet that draws people to him.  And if you ever met him, you would also want to get to know him better.

I feared that he'd graduate before I ever made it back to Costa Rica (I was right.) and I might not ever be able to see him again.  (I was wrong.)  Of course, I do hope that one day he'll become Minister of Agriculture in Rwanda and decide the entire countryside needs educational murals.  It may not be his dream, but it is mine.  And, if you don't dream it, it certainly will never happen.  Anyway, I wasn't sure if I'd ever see him again, but life and the universe had other plans in mind.

Gerard finished his four years of study in Costa Rica and was accepted into an internship program with the Ohio State University.  The same OSU that is just about twenty minutes from my home.  When I learned he was coming to Ohio, I was thrilled.  I hoped he'd be stationed in Ohio for this internship, but that didn't happen.  He was on his way to California.  However, before that happened, there was a day of orientation in Columbus and 60 hours that I had to introduce him to the "Home of the Buckeyes".  My visit lasted from about 4:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday until 4:00 in the morning on Saturday.  I never would have selected a departure that early in the wee hours of Saturday, but I've traveled enough to know that some times you just don't have a choice.

I did my best to plan a full 60 hours.  It was Gerard's first experience in the United States.  I wondered what he would find unique.  It didn't take long to learn.  In his hotel the first night, he didn't know how to turn on the hot water in his shower.  He took a cold shower.  That would never happen to me.  I always consider taxi drivers, waiters and hotel staff as vital local resources.  I would have asked for help.  Gerard didn't, but he did ask at my home.

Our adventure started off with a trip to an international grocery store not so far from my home.  We were going to prepare an African meal.  I really didn't care what was on the menu as long as it was from Africa.  So, Gerard strolled the aisle and decided it would be cassava leaves, which just happens to be my favorite African dish!  But, his Rwandan version was not like anything I've ever had before.  (I will soon link to the recipe.)

Since Gerard painted on my muraling project in Costa Rica, I wanted him to join the list of the very few people who painted with me in two countries.  (Currently, five people including him.)  So, he painted with me on mural 55 in the morning before heading out for a tour of Columbus with my friend Anne.  I suggested two locations: the botanical gardens to tie into his agriculture degree and my only other exterior mural in the city.  They didn't visit either of them.  But, Gerard crisscrossed Ohio's largest city and saw a whole lot of traffic, congested living and big city bustle.  He later told me that he wondered if the entire country was like this.

He wanted to see a village in America.

Now, I've lived in Africa and seen the difference between city-life and village-life.  In an African village, there will usually not be any electricity or running water.  There will be goats, chickens, brilliant stars at night, smoky fires for cooking and a lot of family living in close proximity.  I assured Gerard that an American village was nothing like he imagined.  No matter where I could take him in Ohio, there would be electricity, running water, cars and a decreased amount of cooking fires, goats, chickens and stars...

So, in the morning, we headed north to farm country - and a whole lot of open countryside - where some of my relatives live.  The first village we went to was Waldo.  It's not where the "Where's" guy is from, but this Waldo does have its own "world-famous balogna sandwich" at the G & R Tavern.  Personally, it may be even less world-famous than me and I've been advised by those who have to never have one myself.  Waldo may possibly be three streets wide.  It's the smallest village I knew to take Gerard.

The next village we passed was Prospect.  When passing through Prospect, the "must see" spot is the Pastimes Dairy Bar.  I'm not sure if Gerard ever had an ice cream sundae, but he had seen enough villages to assure me that Prospect was not one.

After driving through these villages, as well as La Rue and Green Camp, the real reason for this trip was to explore farming first-hand in Ohio.  My Aunt Marge along with her three sons grows crops.  Not caring at all about farming myself, hating it from my youth when I had to garden all summer - every summer - I'd never had this tour.  I saw machines bigger than I ever imagined possible, and they cost more than my home!  It was all new for Gerard (and me).  You could almost say he was in hog heaven, but we didn't see or smell any hogs.

We saw cows.

Those who know, know the difference in smells between hogs and cows.  Not me.  But, we visited my cousin's farm where Dwight raises around fifty cows.  Gerard said he needed a staff of ten, but Dwight did all the work by himself.  Okay, he had one very excited dog to help round up cattle, but that was it.  Gerard was so impressed.

The tour wound around through some Amish farms, but it was a little too early in the season to see any farming.  After all, it was still snowing in Ohio the previous week.  But, we finally headed on to a massive dairy farm.   Massive is defined as 3000 cattle with about that many acres.  And with that many cows, there was "udderly" non-stop milking to be done.  I'd never seen anything like it before.  The cattle were ushered into what can only be described as something like a giant clock.  Every five minutes on the "clock" was a cattle stall.  Cows were individually ushered into stalls at about eleven o'clock.  Then, someone attached the automatic milking attachments.  The clock rotated slowly, counter-clockwise.  By the time the cows reached one o'clock, they were fully milked, dis-attached and backed off the wheel.  It must be said, it flowed like clock-work.  It had to!  All 3000 cows were milked two or three times a day.

It wasn't until the farm tour was completed that I realized that I almost missed out on all of this day.  If things had gone as planned, I would have been starting another mural at an unnamed local school.  If that mural had actually taken place, I would have spent this day drawing the design on the wall and setting up for the invasion of happy student painters the following day.  Gerard would still have gone to the airport at four o'clock in the morning and I would have been an exhausted wreck on the main day of painting.  And, probably the next day as well.

Instead, I shared a very special day with my aunt, a few cousins, Gerard, a whole bunch of cows and one very excited dog.  And, truthfully, I was exhausted the next day after that 4:00 A.M. airport run.  That day required two naps!  But, I am just so thrilled that I had the opportunity to share Ohio with my friend.  When I explained how I almost missed this day, Gerard said, "It was God's will for us to have this experience."

All I can say is, "Ndayishimiye".

................Warning: Some of this won't make sense if you are too young to know this song.

I travel with a short list of things to do.  If I get to do them, well, that’s great.  And, if I get to do anything on top of that, it’s just like having extra dessert.  Goodness knows I love extra dessert.

On my last trip to Costa Rica, three years ago, I only had one item on my “tourist to-do” list.  I wanted to zip line over the rainforest.  I emailed my Costa Rican friends to tell them about my desire for a zip line tour.  I said I could do this by myself with my own pathetic Spanish, or they were welcome to come with me if they liked the idea.  I mentioned the words “zip line tour” in multiple email messages, just to be sure there was no confusion because we both have to use Google Translate to fully communicate. As it turned out, the whole family wanted to zip-a-dee-doo-dah with me.

I know a little about rainforests.  I camped in them while living in the Philippines.  The town where I lived in Liberia was surrounded by the rainforest.  My Peace Corps friends and I zipped and zoomed along lumber trails through the forest on our motorcycles.  (I only remember one accident then, and – yes – I was driving.)  Anyway, we churned up all kinds of red dust to coat ourselves and the rest of the forest on our way to the Cavalla River that separated Liberia from the Ivory Coast.  When the water level was down in the dry season, it was possible to swim to the Ivory Coast.  Nobody was stupid enough to try that in the rainy season when the current was too fast and the water level was just too high.

So, like I said, I know a little about the rainforest. 

In the morning that we packed up for this little day trip in Costa Rica, I wore shorts and a T-shirt.  My friends looked at me like I was crazy.  We weren’t going to the kind of rainforest I knew about in Africa or Asia.  This was a cloud rainforest.  Yep, up in the clouds with a lot of dew, rain and, of course, clouds.  You don’t wear shorts there.  Mosquitoes would eat you up – especially me since I tend to be a mosquito magnet.  A T-shirt would most likely not keep me warm because we were nearly guaranteed to get rained upon.  Hey, it was after all a rainforest.  A quick trip back to my room for a wardrobe change was in order.

After I reappeared wearing layers, we were ready for the hour or so drive into the c­louds.  My mind was boggled that something this spectacular was an hour from San Jose.  I know where I live in Ohio.  I’ve driven an hour in almost every direction.  The closet thing of interest is maybe the beginning of Amish farm country.  Yes, that is interesting, but it doesn’t compare to a cloud rainforest. 

We left San Jose somewhere around nine o’clock in the morning.  The mountains loomed ahead of us with thick grey clouds.  Much of the rainforest was completely hidden and I seriously wondered if we’d see anything from the zip line.  There was a chill in the air and the mist wove its way through the trees.  It was so very evident that we were driving through clouds.  Very fortunately for us, everything cleared up a little before our arrival at the park.

To get the full experience, and I certainly wanted that, there were a couple things that I wanted to do. On this trip with my friends from San Jose, we booked a "teleferico" ride. If that's a new word for you, well, your Spanish isn't any better than mine. It was sort of like an open-air, cable car ride up through the different levels of the rainforest.  And, I personally think you should do this before you zip your little doo dah.

It was truly a wonderful experience.  A zip line would have been a quick flight over the area without really seeing everything below me as I zipped by.  The cable car ride was slow with occasional stops.  We traveled through the various layers of the rainforest at a slow pace with a very good guide who spoke excellent English.  He was funny, entertaining, and could switch back and forth between English, Spanish and German with complete ease. 
 
We viewed all kinds of plants at different levels of the rainforest, but I was much more entertained by the toucan and Morpho butterflies.  The only animal I didn’t see that I really wanted to find were tropical frogs.  Everyone agreed that there was so much to learn and the trip was infinitely better with a guide.

I’ve heard of flying by the seat of your pants, but this was probably my first time to really actually, literally, do it.  Everything was double buckled on two wires.  There was no chance for anything to really go seriously wrong.  Then, it was time to grab the wire with both hands, lean back, raise my legs, stick my butt out, and fly, fly away.  And, just like skydiving, I was the first one in the group to take that leap into the open air.
   
The experience was easy and just so much fun.  There were a series of flights, similar to baby steps.  The first time into the forest green was a very, non-terrifying, ten feet off the ground.  Steadily, we flew further, higher and faster.  And, we flew way better than Tarzan.  He had to hold on to scratchy vines, without thick gloves to protect his hands.  We aimed for tree-top perches, high above the forest floor, and each time we landed, we were attached to a cord to prevent accidental flying down to the ground on an unscheduled trip.

If there was any fly in the ointment on this very wonderful experience, it was that I forgot to spray on the repellent before entering the rainforest.  Normally, I am not one to hurt a fly.  Well, that may not be completely true, but I’m not into hunting anything or even killing most insects.  All mercy, however, stops where mosquitoes are concerned.  I have had malaria five times.  I hate those little blood-suckers!  The forest had way too many mosquitoes – and even one spider -- that enjoyed me a whole lot more than I enjoyed them.  Yes, I had several bites – none spider – and there is no malaria in Costa Rica.  Whew!
   
Speaking of flies in the ointment, I avoided a big one.  My group of zippers had eleven tourists and three guides.  It was small enough to have personal attention and the guides even called me by name.  But, I learned one more reason why I never really want to take a cruise.  On cruise ship days, they have up to 200 guests in line to zip their way over the rainforest.  Nobody gets personal attention.  Two guides are assigned to each station.  It’s pretty much, “Welcome, get in line, zip your little doo-dah, and next,” times 200.  I would hate that!

Anyway, the flights continued to progress.  We no longer flew through, across, around or by the trees; we flew over them.  Yep, one of the last zips of my doo-dah day was 1000 feet above the ground!   And, it just was not scary at all.  At that height and speed, there was very little time to look down and worry about anything that was so far below.  I concentrated on keeping my zip line straight and not twirling like a flying fool.
   
And then, there was the final zip.  Everything in the day built up to it.  This time, I must confess, there were a few second thoughts.  It towered 700 meters way above everything else I’d seen that day.  Now, since meters mean nothing to most Americans, it may not sound so scary.  But, 700 is a big number.  Translated to feet, it was about 2,300 feet.  That’s close enough to a half mile to not worry about almost or not quite the distance.  I was half a mile high when I jumped out of an airplane! That’s flying high!  But, it wasn’t just high; it was also long!  It was so far that I couldn’t even see my friend Marvin as he neared the end of his trip.  I could only feel the zip line shaking so I knew he was still attached and alive.

I came too far to ever consider turning back.  In fact, I was having a grand time of it all.  I know that you’re supposed to be careful what you wish for.  It might come true.  Well, this time, it was better than I wished for.  It was so much more incredible than I ever could have imagined.  And, one of our guides agreed.  He said it was always a good day if he doesn’t lose a member of his group. 

Perhaps I loved it more than most people.  Before leaving Costa Rica, I zipped my little doo-dah one more time with Gerard, one of my friends from Earth University.