You never know when something good may come your way.  At least, I don't.  And, sometimes, that goodness pops up in my email box.  If it's there waiting for me first thing in the morning, it's a wonderful way to start the day.

I had one of those mornings recently.  The email was from the U.S. Embassy in Togo (already a good sign) and they wanted to know if I was free to come to West Africa next month.  Next month is less than a week away.  As long as I have no trouble getting a visa, it won't take me any time to pack my bags.  Of course, a visa isn't always a fast thing to attain.  The last time I went to Africa, the U.S. State Department had to get involved to push along a certain foreign embassy with their paperwork.  I got my passport and visa the night before departure! 

In my request, the people at the embassy wanted to know if I was interested in a mural project that would include a local artist and some students.  If you know anything about my work, you know that falls into place perfectly with what I do.  I replied with about fifteen lines in all capital letters screaming, "YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!"  And then, I gave a few suggestions to help them plan.  For every other project I've painted with embassies, I've painted two murals over about a two week period.  Since they want me along with a local artist, I thought it might be good to paint two murals (as usual) with me designing one mural and the local artist designing the other.  I like to share the ownership when I can.  

I'm not going to be surprised if none of you know where Togo is located.  But, since I was in the Peace Corps in Liberia, I know that Togo is three countries to the right of Liberia.  (If you don't know where Liberia is located, well, I just can't help you.)  Anyway, the only other thing I know about Togo is that they speak French.  That doesn't phase me in the slightest.  I've painted murals with people who speak French, Spanish, Dutch, Portuguese, Romanian, Albanian, Estonian, Swahili, Afrikaans, Fijian, Quechua, and Russian sign language.   Language is not a barrier.

However, it's been over a week since I sent that reply.  I've not heard a peep from Togo.

I still live in hope.

But, some other good things are brewing for me in West Africa in addition to Togo.  Like I said, Togo is only three countries away from Liberia.  The office in every embassy that I always deal with is the Public Affairs Office.  After all, my murals are great for public relations!  I may or may not meet the ambassador as I paint my murals, but I always have frequent communication with the Public Affairs Officer in every country. 

Well, it just so happened that the current Public Affairs Officer in Liberia is from Columbus, Ohio!  Who knew?  Sometimes it's a very small world, you must agree.  And, it gets even better!  The Public Affairs Officer, Sean, was home visiting family this week and suggested we get together for coffee at his favorite hometown coffee shop, Stauf's Coffee. 

It was perhaps the best cup of coffee I ever had!

If you have ever traveled a lot overseas, you may know that most of the people back home are not interested in what you did on your vacation.  It's too foreign.  They can't relate.  If you talk too long, eyes start to glaze over.  But, if you meet a fellow traveler, that just isn't a concern.  There is so much to talk about -- especially if you share the same country in your travels. 

So, of course, we talked about Liberia. 

I had to tell the Public Affairs Officer that I once was the most famous Peace Corps Volunteer in all of Liberia.  Yep, it was legendary status for a while.  I mean, two of my Peace Corps friends and I survived a bus wreck on the first day of our vacation in the Ivory Coast.  And, then on the third day of the trip, the two women were jumped by rogues with knives.  I had to stop the attack by taking a flying leap into the air like Superman and knocking one of the thieves to the ground.  It's always a little grueling to have to be a superhero, but I saved the day that time.  Of course, I didn't know that those rogues with knives had a habit of slicing up people who resisted them.  However, I'm fairly sure that they never faced Superman very often either.

After talking international experiences, we had a more local conversation about Columbus.  I wanted to be sure he saw one of my murals while he was home.  My most visible mural is at a food pantry not so far from the Ohio State University.  But, another one that is really huge, was in Sean's home stomping grounds of Upper Arlington.  I asked him if he knew where Tremont Elementary was located.  It was a simple question.  I didn't expect to have my sock knocked off.  He did it anyway.  "Yes, I know where it is.  My best friend from middle school days, Tino, teaches music there."

I know Tino! ​

Some days good messages come across my computer screen.   Recently, my sister wrote to me asking, “Would you like to come to Alaska for September?”  Yes, I consider that a very good message indeed.

My sister and her husband run a fishing lodge near King Salmon, Alaska.  If you ever see photos of bears fishing for salmon in a waterfall in Alaska, it is most likely at Katmai National Park.  That’s a brief boat trip from my sister’s place.  So, it is wonderful to head to Alaska to see the bears.  It’s a conversation killer with all her guests when I tell them I did not come to the lodge to fish.  And, it’s just wonderful to spend time with my sister.

On this trip, I would not just be visiting.  I joined the kitchen crew.  She’d lost some of her staff and needed another body in the kitchen.  Currently, there are four of us in the kitchen.  One of my friends asked me if I like preparing the food.  There is none of that kind of nonsense on my part.  Nobody wants to eat my cooking.  I manage to dollop some rice or mashed potatoes when needed.  In a pinch, I can serve food.  But, usually, I find myself nothing more than a glorified busboy, way too old to be called a boy. 

As far as the four in the kitchen go, I’ve blogged about my sister in the past.  Amanda had the best bear story I’ve ever heard in Alaska.  I write about myself just too much.  And then, there is Chef Josh. 

There are four guys named Josh at camp.  Big Josh, LBJ (Little Baby Josh), Shua (short for Joshua), and Chef Josh.  I kinda liked Chefshua, but I have to stick with what he goes by, Josh or Chef. 

Anyway, the four of us in the kitchen get along so very well.  It’s fun to scrape slop, clean clutter, and maintain a kitchen when the crew is so friendly.  Chef is new to the fishing lodge this year.  He’s said that he’s never worked in an environment that was so much like a family before.  I blame that on my sister.  She’s the heart and soul of the place.  And, guests and staff return year after year because they are so welcomed.

Josh has not traveled nearly as much as me.  He’s hardly ever left New England!  But, he had a few stories to rival any of my (mis)adventures.  I rarely ever happen upon people that can do that.  Chef has success in the kitchen as well as with his stories.

I don’t remember the name of the other lodge somewhere further into the wilderness, but Chef worked at another location in the past.  One of his best – or worst – stories happened in his own cabin.  Staff members generally have to share a cabin with another employee.  When Chef walked into his cabin, his roomie sat on the bed with his revolver, spinning the cylinder that held the bullets.  It’s neither a sight nor a sound that you want from somebody who will share your sleeping accommodations.  Imagine what he could do to you if you snore?  And, I do!

Chef did what any sane person would do.  He gathered up all of the guy’s bullets and headed off to have a talk with his employer.  The new boss wasn’t quite as supportive as you would hope for.  He said, “You can’t take the guy’s bullets away!  He has a second amendment right to own them.” 

Well, Chef had a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  All three were threatened by this guy possessing bullets for the revolver.  The rooming situation didn’t last the whole season.  The roommate that nobody would want to have went home to the ex-girlfriend who felt the same way about him.  He ended up shooting her, as well as the new boyfriend, before setting the house on fire.  A national manhunt took place to finally put this guy behind bars where he belonged.

Like I said, I have no stories to match this one.

Chef’s other tale was a whole lot more humbling.  He went on a mission trip to central Mexico.  As a part of the experience, the group went to Axtla, a remote village way up in the mountains.  It’s one thing to live in a remote village.  It’s a whole other experience to live in the countryside near a remote village in the mountains.  Chef came upon a man living in a home he created from cardboard boxes.  There were four walls and no ceiling. 

If you lived in a cardboard home with no ceiling, you can almost imagine what little you’d own inside your home.  It would be little more than the clothes on your back.  But, when Chef visited with this wonderful human being at his cardboard home, the man started to remove his shirt.  He was literally going to give his guest the shirt off his back!
Of course, Chef had to ask what was going on.  Why was this man doing this?

The answer was simple.  The man said, “I can see that you are not used to the sunshine here.  Your skin is burning.  You need to cover it.”

I’ve met wonderful people as I’ve traveled the world.  I have been cared for and supported by people from so many countries and cultures.  But, I’ve never been offered the shirt off of someone’s back.  Of course, Chef didn’t accept the shirt.  But, I think his heart was forever humbled and changed by the kindness of this stranger.

I think we all need to try a little more kindness with everyone we meet, either friend, family, or stranger.  This wonderful human in remote Mexico is an example for us all.  Gracias.

I am seriously finding things in "my own backyard" that I just never really expected.  My most recent discovery was the Hanby House in Westerville, another one of the bedroom communities for Columbus.  The Hanbys lived in the house from 1853 to 1870.  The house is filled with period antiques along with some actual pieces that belonged to the family.  But, if you want to see it, you need to make a reservation.  There are not so many volunteers for the museum run by the Westerville Historical Society.  So, call ahead to make your plans.

The Antique-Lover in Me   I grew up with antiques.  My mother loved them, as did her mother before her.  So, I've seen antiques my whole life.  As soon as you enter the Hanby kitchen, there are so many unique and interesting period pieces.  Some people may never have seen butter molds before.  You can see one at this house, but that wasn't anything new.  (I own three of them.)  The wood-burning stove in the center of the kitchen had several metal irons that would heat up there.  However, I had that kind of iron when I was in the Peace Corps.  (I don't ever want to own one of them again!)  My favorite antique, one which I'd never seen before, was a glass fly trap.  Imagine a plate on three legs with a hole in the middle.  Around the hole is a little trough for honey or sweetened water. Then, place a glass bee hive over the plate.  Those pesky flies smell the sweetness and come up through the hole in the bottom.  But, sorry for those little suckers, they never find their way out.  (I'm on the lookout for one of these.)

A Little William Hanby History    William Hanby was born near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on April 8, 1808.  And, unfortunately, life was hard for the family.  His grandparents came to America as indentured servants, and things were very difficult. They were sold upon arrival in Philadelphia and then auctioned off again in western Pennsylvania.   Instead of indentured servitude, it was a lot closer to convict labor.  When William's mother became an adult, she married a distant cousin to get out of servitude.  However, her husband died leaving the young widow with five children to support.  The only way to survive was to indenture her children.  Nine-year-old William was first sent to work as a farmer with a Quaker family.  They treated him very well, just like you would expect Quakers to do.  

When he was 16, William decided he wanted to work as an apprentice/indentured servant learning the saddler's trade.  It might have been a good trade for the young man, but it was in a horrible situation.  His employer, Jacob Good, didn't live up to his last name.  Good treated William no better than a slave.  Eventually in 1828, three years into the five-year apprenticeship, Hanby decided his future would be better if he fled to Ohio and started his new life there.  He climbed from a second-story window and made his escape. .......

It was a dangerous move to escape the apprenticeship.  If caught, he would have had no more rights than an escaped slave.  But, the kindness of strangers along the way helped Hanby on his journey.  He would never forget the experience.  And, it would direct his steps for the rest of his life.

Hanby lived briefly in Zanesville and then made his way on to Rushville, Ohio, where he found employment as a saddler with the Samuel Miller family.  In 1830, when he earned enough money to pay back what he owed Jacob Good, he returned to Pennsylvania to settle his debt.  Good still didn't live up to his name.  He had Hanby put in jail.  Fortunately, a judge freed him and the debt was settled. 

Then, back in Ohio -- broke but happy -- he returned to the Miller family where he became a partner in the family saddle business.  But, our young William found more than saddles and harnesses there.  He found Samuel Miller's daughter, Ann, and they were married in 1830.  However, Ann had to agree to become the wife of a minister. William, a devote Christian in the United Brethren Church, traveled a circuit as an itenerant minister for about four years.  It took him four weeks to travel the 170 miles of his route.  Eventually, he moved on to Circleville, Ohio, (near my mural at Walnut Elementary School) where he became the editor of the Religious Telescope, a newspaper run by his church. 

In 1845, William Hanby was elected bishop in the United Brethren Church.  In 1847, along with Lewis Davis, Hanby co-founded Otterbein University in Westerville.  It was one of the first colleges in the United States that was founded as a coeducational institution and also one of the first to open up to students of color.  Go Cardinals!  William moved his family to Westerville.  They bought the current home/museum in 1854.  William Hanby served as a local minister, ran a saddler business in the family barn, and eventually became a financial agent for Otterbein University.  
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Who Wouldn't Go     Benny wasn't the only standout among the eight Hanby children.  His sister, Amanda Hanby Billheimer, was the first female missionary sent out by the United Brethren Church.  She and her husband, Jacob Kemp Billheimer, set out for Sierra Leone in West Africa.  Fortunately, those nasty malaria-carrying mosquitoes did not manage to kill them.  They eventually came back to the United States and settled in Alabama.  Kemp died at the age of 69 while Amanda lived to a ripe old 91.   

​And, just another tidbit of history includes their daughter Lulu.  She married Reuchlin Wright.  You most likely haven't ever heard of him, but everyone knows his brothers, Orville and Wilbur.   In Lulu's journals, she wrote about flying as a passenger in Orville's plane.  Orville gave her strict orders not to touch anything!  She followed his orders and very well may have been the first female in flight.  

As for the composer, Ben, he is credited with writing about 80 songs in his career.  You may be like me and never heard of Darling Nelly Gray, but there is another one of his songs that almost everyone knows.  Ben had a singing school in New Paris, Ohio. One Christmas season, he decided to write a sing-along for a performance in nearby Richmond, Indiana.  He called the song Santa Claus, but most of us know it as Up on the Housetop!  If you look over the lyrics, you'll see "Little Will", named after his brother William.  Little Will would have been about 17 when the song was written, attending Otterbein University at that time.  

You may also ask, "Where in the world is New Paris, Ohio, and why did they name it after the capital of France?" Well, I looked it up and it is on the Ohio/Indiana border, not so far from Cincinnati.  It was actually named after Paris, Kentucky, just outside of Lexington.  That town was named after the French capital in honor of their help in the American Revolutionary War.  Now, to come full circle, when I lived near Paris, the original one in France, I created a set of Christmas ornaments on rhea eggs.  The set combined a little bit of America (with my favorite Christmas song when I was a child) and a little bit of Europe (with scenes from Antwerp, Belgium, including Santa in front of the main window at the train station as well as a skyline view of the city).  It's my hope that now that these ornaments are back in the United States that they could possibly be used in a Christmas exhibition at what is now my favorite local museum. 

​Ho!  Ho!  Ho!  Who Wouldn't Go to see that exhibit?

I grew up watching Jeopardy!  The answer is: Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  The question is: Where do you go to find the most Amish?  That would have been my guess.  And, I would have been wrong.  You too?  As it turns out, the 350,000 Amish in the United States span across 31 states.  Lancaster, Pennsylvania, has the third largest Amish population.  The second largest settlement of the Amish is around Elkhart, Indiana.  And, if you want to find the largest concentration of Amish, more than 40,000 people, head to Holmes County in Ohio.  The Amish comprise half of the county's population.

I vaguely remember this because Holmes County was my mother's "go to" destination of choice in Ohio.  She loved everything Amish because of her own German heritage.  And, I loved my German heritage every time she made German potato salad.    

ARRIVAL IN THE NEW WORLD    The Amish first came to Pennsylvania in the early to mid 1700s.  They came for religious freedom because they had been persecuted by both Catholics and Protestants in Europe.  They also came for the chance to own farmland in the United States.  Most of them had been tenant farmers in their homelands.  More Amish came in the 18th and 19th centuries, expanding into Ohio, Indiana, Iowa, and Illinois. The first Amish to settle in Holmes Country arrived in 1809.

If you know anything about the Amish, you know they are farmers.  You can expect to see corn knee-high by the Fourth of July, as well as oats, goats, cows and sows.  Except, one of the first things I learned on a three-hour tour was that only about 10% of the Amish are farmers.  The top two occupations are construction (and they travel across the state to do their work) and hand-crafted furniture (that goes much farther than just the state line).

A THREE HOUR TOUR     Yes, that's right, I took a three-hour-tour through Amish country.  Now, I've known all my life that you should never take a three-hour-tour unless you want to end up on a desert isle with Gilligan and Mary Ann.  Fortunately, the weather never started getting rough and our spacious van was not tossed.  The guide was raised a conservative Mennonite but left the community to go out into the world when he went to Bible College.  He was an excellent source of information about all things Amish and he still had excellent ties with the community. (FYI: The faith beliefs of Amish and Mennonites are similar.  However, Mennonites may own vehicles and telephones as well as have electricity in their homes.) 

Right from the start, it was made clear that in the Amish community, you are either Amish or English.  Think about that English community for a moment.  You can certainly see that there are lots of variations among those English.  It would include Baptists, Catholics, atheists, people with brown, white, or black skin, English-speakers, people who speak no English at all, and an endless supply of other categories.  Still, if you aren't Amish, you are English.  The surprise to me was there are lots of differences among the Amish as well.  They do not all nicely fit into just one group.
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AMISH LIFE    Yes, different groups of Amish communities were explained during the tour.  I couldn't keep them straight. Suffice it to say that some Amish are a lot more conservative than others, but they are all conservative!  If I understood it correctly, cars, smart phones, and electricity are not a part of their lives.  Dress is simple, education only goes as far as grade eight, faith is very important, family ties are strong, and an insulation from the English world concerning modern technology and mass media is maintained.

Part of my tour included a horse-drawn carriage factory.  The factory had two employees (at least on the day I visited).  Because you aren't to dress or do anything flashy, the choice of color for your carriage is either black or black.  For the interior fabric, there is flexibility with black, grey, and certain shades of blue and burgundy.  (I was really surprised about the burgundy.)  But, you better check to see if the color is acceptable before selecting your interior.  And, if the people at the factory don't think the color is acceptable, they just will not use it.  Additionally, some Amish people like rubber around their carriage tires and other prefer metal.  I can't tell you which group prefers what or why.  I do remember that more conservative carriage drivers have open windows with cloth curtains that you can roll up and tie in place.  Other drivers permit actual windows in their buggies.  

I was a little depressed that a new horse-drawn carriage costs more than my current car.  The actual buggy would cost about $6,000.  Then, you'd need a horse that probably would start at $3,000 but could go so much higher. Finally, you'd need a barn for that horse and 60 pounds of grain per week.  And, somebody has to follow behind that horse with a shovel.  Not me, I'm going to stick with my Toyota.
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CLOTHING   I asked.  And, I was told ahead of time that there wouldn't be close-up photography of any Amish people.  It was possible to take photos from a distance while in a vehicle, but I wasn't going to get the kind of portraits I really like to take.  But, how was it that some books had portraits of Amish people on their covers?  The woman at a gift shop counter said that the view on photography was changing.  There was one trusted photographer in the community who could take photos of the Amish.  He had earned their trust. Part of the way he earned that was by keeping the photos for ten years before publishing them.  That way, the people in the photos wouldn't be as easily recognized and it could maintain their privacy.  I really appreciated the photographer's way of respecting privacy.  And, I certainly know that ten years can do a lot of damage, er, ... I mean, a lot changes can happen to your face in that amount of time.

There is an intended purpose behind what and how the Amish dress.  The style of clothing is one more way of expressing their faith in God and maintaining a separation from the world.  There is no jewelry.  Amish women wear long, modest, full-length dresses as well as bonnets covering their heads.  There are many styles of bonnets, but married women wear white bonnets and single women wear black bonnets.  The bonnet is actually a prayer covering and the hair it protects is never cut.  The hair is worn in a bun and pinned to the back of the head.

Of course, the Amish men dress in similarly conservative ways in dark suits with straight-cut coats and no lapels. There are no belts.  Men either wear suspenders or rely on the four buttons along the top of their pants to do the job.  Wide-brimmed hats are either black or made of straw.  Married men grow beards, but they never wear a mustache.  It was a part of maintaining humility.  That was a mystery until my guide explained that in Europe, important people used to wear a mustache.  The more important they thought they were, the bigger and more elaborate the mustache.   Not wearing a mustache stopped that display of vanity. 

MY FAVORITE PART OF THE DAY     In the northern part of Holmes Country, the tour stopped at the farm of a Swartzentruber Amish family, the most conservative of the conservative Amish.  Before we came to a stop in their driveway, my guide said, "Put away your cameras. You are not allowed to photograph anything here.  The father would be very offended if you tried to take a picture."

Bummer.

I really wanted to photograph the beautiful rustic things around the farm.  No, I wouldn't sneak a picture of a family member.  But, what harm would there be in taking a picture of aging red paint on a barn?  I never found out.  I never took a photo.  And, hands down, it was the best moment of the day!

The Miller family (which is the most common last name in Holmes County) made basket items to sell to visiting English tourists.  When everyone finished shopping, I had time to talk to the son who handled the shop.  This stop was my only chance to speak to the Amish while on the tour.  And the young man was warm and friendly, with his bare feet, straw hat, and button-up trousers.  

Since I live in Columbus, he was very interested in the Columbus Zoo.  It appears that two of his brothers and a sister had visited it.  I don't know how they managed to do that.  Some Amish are just fine and dandy riding in an automobile if they don't own the vehicle.  That is not the way of the Shwartzentruber.  They won't ride in a car unless it is a medical emergency.  And, I'm not sure how they'd ever call for help because they don't have cell phones either.

Actually, there is quite a list of things the Shwartzentruber Amish don't have.  No indoor bathrooms, no running water, no gas lights, no solar power.  If you happen to pass a Shwartzentruber Amish buggy in your neighborhood, you'll notice they don't have windshields, mirrors, reflectors, or the slow-moving vehicle triangles to warn approaching traffic.  That would just be too showy.

After talking with the son, I also spoke to the mother.  She probably also made baskets.  It appeared the whole family did, but at that moment, she showed off her quilting skills.  As it turns out, I have the top of a quilt that my grandmother made.  It needs the interior padding as well as a backing applied.  I've never known anyone able to do this because it must be done by hand (the way my grandmother did it).  If you find a quilter today, most people use their sewing machine.  But now, thanks to my own little Shwarzentruber connection, I may have found a way to complete the quilt.  If I'm just forced to keep in touch with this family, it will be a pleasure.  And maybe, possibly, if I have enough communication with them, I'll see how it might be possible for one certain young man to visit the Columbus Zoo.​