Africa Called & I Answered

My desire to return to Africa has finally been made a reality!

I've applied and been selected to make a trip with One Child Campaign to travel to Ethiopia this fall. And I am once away blown away by the fact that things have "fallen" into place as I'm checking my inoculation records, searching for flights, and stocking up on sunscreen.

When the idea was still just a whisper in my head I decided that I would not ask for fundraising from any of my family or friends to cover the cost of the trip. I could not ask any of you to when it feels like every other weekend I'm hopping in a plane, car, or train for my next European adventure. So, for the past few months I've been scaling back (and saving my vacation days!) to make sure that when that balance is due I can write that check.

But, here's the deal...

We're traveling to Ethiopia to go into the orphanages filled with kids. Kids that have gone through more in their first years of life that most of us ever will in our entire lifetime.

It is my goal to be able to take clothing, shoes, medical supplies (bandages, etc), small toys, and educational supplies as donations for the ministries we're pairing up with on this mission to be distributed as need. (It will be another month or so until we get a more specific list.) I am more than willing to scale back my belongings to take as much stuff as I can.

If you feel led, and want to contribute to the items taken by the team you can assist in a few ways:

1. Place those Amazon orders and have supplies sent directly to me to hand carry over.
2. Send a box (flat rate boxes are awesome) my way with items.
3. Make a monetary donation (giftcards?) and I'll do the shopping.
4. Assist financially to defray the costs of excess baggage and/or overweight bags.

And yes, I'm always accepting prayers. God has once again showed just how faithful He is in allowing for all of this to come together.

And just because He is God...

Remember how while in Italy all I wanted to do was to head back to Kenya to visit my girls? That is finally becoming a reality as well! After the team disperses in Addis Abba, I'll be headed to Nairobi to see a different side of Kenya. Paired with Compassion International's office I'll be traveling to both of the villages where Caroline and Catherine live, meeting their families, seeing their centers. The sheer joy of seeing Caroline again overwhelms me to the point of no words. Meeting little Catherine for the first time after being her sponsor for only 2 years? Excites me when I think of the possibilities that she and I will have to foster our relationship in the years to come. And meeting their siblings and parents? Chills.

I'm still in awe that all my "let's run away to Kenya" comments, knowing exactly what time the flight left from Naples daily, and spending 3 years trying to make this work from Italy, it's happening within the first few months of being in Spain. Well played, well played.  

Living on Borrowed Time

Ever have those segments of time when you're so focused on something that everything revolves around it? I'm talking dreams, plans, conversations, work, finances?

Well that's what this job search has turned out to be.

8 days out from my original rotation date (when I return to Monterey from Naples) and it's time to fess up- about 2 months ago in a state of panic, I signed a 3 month extension "blocking" my return to Monterey (in the event that I had not yet found a new job) and thus staying in Naples until the end of August. Not the ideal option, but since it's non-binding and my supervisors were willing to take the risk (that I'd find another job and leave in the mean time) I figured it was worth sticking around a tad longer. This way I could continue the search to get a job I was a tad more interested in rather than being placed in a similar job as the one I left (same pay grade too) back at NPS. Plus with a structure change in our office, the work load was finally picking up again, curbing my boredom when too much "free time" occurs at work. I know you all know what I'm talking about...

So, since signing that extension a few nibbles have turned into substantial bites which means my resume is working in our convoluted system. Of course I also was spotted casting the line into dense populations, praying for a bite, even by a small agency and literally watched them turn up their nose in rejection. Lucky for me, I have a few fabulous friends that just reminded me that every rejection just meant it wasn't where I was meant to be.  Few hurt, like the FBI, but I made it to round 2 which is better than in the past. 

Where does it all stand right now? I've got something on the line but haven't been able to reel it in just yet which is why so many of my plans are still up in the air, my house is in a state of disarray, and Nico got his passport. What is meant to be will happen; it always does albeit sometimes it's milliseconds before the buzzer sounds and the ball was just launched. In the mean time I continue to work on my least favorite thing- patience.

Every Monday for the past...um 3 weeks I start optimistically with a "this is the week I'll hear from them" and by Friday all hope has faded as I see the clock tick to 10pm out here meaning their work day is also over and find my inbox still empty.

Yeah. It sucks, but knowing that when this all works out it's going to be fabulous seems to get me through the fact that friends who were supposed to leave after me are already have their orders in hand, scheduled their pack outs, and have started everything else when it comes to out processing while I'm renewing all my Naples related documents. Not quite how I thought it was going to play out, but then again it very seldom is.

Good Friday

Sitting on my couch this evening in my typical end of work week daze, the voice I've come to call Mr. Monte di Procida came over the PA system. Since my movie had just ended I walked to my kitchen to see find out the answer to this episode of "why is my street closed?"

Like before I saw a large fraction of the town filling the street. Behind the polizia moto 3 kids walked next to each other, the one in the center holding a simple wooden cross while the one on either side held a large olive branch. Behind each of the olive branch carriers, a line of 10 kids dressed in white robes. Primarily women followed, presumably mothers of the kids, around one of the transportable speakers transmitting the prayer by the priest while the crowd responded.

The priests followed immediately behind the Commune di Monte di Procida, and then several hundred people, bundled up in their winter coats, holding prayer sheets.

Nope! Not my balcony.

When the head of the group stopped in the piazza I live next to, the people in the street packed in more. I'm talking 6-8 across from the "icky pizza place" all way to the coffee bar.  Additional people watched on and participated from their balconies above the street.

This is the first year I've been in down for the processions and despite not being Catholic and only understanding every 3rd word (since Ave Maria doesn't really count as understanding) the sight still was overwhelming. The prayers being sent up. The music filling the air. All of it was... WOW! These people recognizing the fact that Jesus died on a cross all those years ago.

For about the million time out here I'm reminded about just how awesome of a God I serve. A God that sent His only son to die for me, the crazy driver that cut me off on the drive home, and the coworker that annoys me. It doesn't matter if I only speak English, or if I can speak 20 languages because He knows them all! It doesn't matter where I am in the world because He is there and always listening for my little voice among all wind, chatter, alarms, and zooming cars. I don't need to be in the Duomo, I can praise him just as well watching the sun set over the Bay of Gaeta from my rooftop.

Then again, it could just be Him delivering the message to me that I should spend a little less time focusing (and worrying) about a plan that was set into motion a long, long, long time ago and more on Him.  See? That's how awesome God is- He sends a large percentage of the town I live in to my house to remind me that sometimes it's not all about me. {Yes, I realize I'm implying that this whole parade was for me isn't really taking the focus away from me, but what I'm trying to say and am more rambling at this point is, God has got it all taken care of so it's about time I "let" Him do his job- right?}

Yeah, I'm sure my theology is less than sound here (sorry dad) and I really did just want to share a few pics and the video with you all so I'm not sure why I'm (still) rambling.

"When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, 'Truly this was the Son of God!'”

Matthew 27:54

Treitman Travel Testimonial

I love visitors and I love them even more when they agree to my request of writing a guest blog post! My most recent guests and I hadn't seen each other in over 3 years, but like with all great friendships we picked it up right where we left of...just thousands of more miles traveled! Although they were taken on the Standard Katie O. Tour I was amazed how that "Naples factor" kicked up the surprise factor making the tour even more memorable. Thank you both for heading to southern Italy to see me and getting a feel for my life here in Bella Napoli, I hope you loved it as much as I do.

Hello Readers,

I’m Tyler, and recently my wife Lexie and I stayed at the Oropeza B&B just outside of Naples. Our train from Rome arrived mid morning on Saturday and the Katie, the proprietor of said B&B was gracious enough to provide a shuttle service from the train station in Naples to her establishment in Monte di Procida. I highly recommend this service as navigating the Italian freeway system requires a higher level of understanding than this tourist has.

The B&B was located in a lovely neighborhood that is close to the coast but also on the highest point of the point at Monte di Procida. Accommodations were more spacious than we had imagined and very tidy. The other guests were nice folks as well. They were always quiet and reserved, tip toeing around like cats as to not disturb the serenity that come from time spent enjoying the view. That view alone is worth the visit, rooftop terrace has 360 degree views of Monte di Procida, Naples and the surrounding isles. You could really while away the hours there with a bottle or two of your favorite libation, as you soak in ancient vista, and contemplate the “bigger picture” or what ever that may mean to you.

What followed our tour of the accommodations was what I would call “hands on traveling”. We found ourselves slicing, mashing, roasting and frying. Indeed this was work on our vacation, how perverse! At least it was work till our task master provided us with wine to drink. At that moment perspective shifted as I realized I was in a cooking class that was hosted by a top local chef. We were taught how to shop for the right ingredients to make some delicious local meals. I do not recall how many courses we made as I may have eaten myself into a euphoric state between the 2^rd and 3^rd courses, or maybe I became overwhelmed and slept through a course somewhere…I can’t quite recall. We made a lemon and muscle pasta, eggplant parmesan, and a pear and ricotta tort. Learning can be delicious. 

Day two was a busy one. We started the morning at Vietri Sul Mare which features a beach that is often covered with broken and wave tossed colored ceramics from the local craftsmen. This sounds like it might be an awful form of pollution but it actually makes for a dynamically colorful painted pebble beach. We filled our pockets with potential mosaic components before hitting the road. The spaghetti noodle that is the road linking the cities along the Amalfi coast brought us to our second course of the day. An aromatic dish Sorrento was. Famous for its production of lemoncello, Sorrento is a city that is best understood once you have walked through the lemon orchard in the middle of downtown. Once you see some of the lemons that are the size of [American] footballs you can understand why the shops and restaurants are so proud of their relationship to the acidic fruit.

The last scheduled stop on our journey, was Herculaneum (and I mean “scheduled” as I don’t count the coastal bicycle race that closed the freeway down for about half an hour). Herculaneum was very important to me being that I have a degree in Archaeology.  Herculaneum, if you don’t know, is the other Roman city to be covered/preserved by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Pompeii is the city that everyone knows of as it was discovered many years ago. My last trip to Italy was regretfully lacking due to the fact that Herculaneum was not open to the public at the time.  Herculaneum was by many accounts a more aristocratic community than Pompeii. The tour starts at what is called the ancient beach which is where the shore line used to be prior to the volcanic eruption. The first thing you notice is how many stories down and inland this beach is. I’ve seen many ancient monuments and so far in my travels but Herculaneum has been the most exciting.

 

As you make your way up from the beach you see alcoves built into the dock typically used to store seafaring items and cargo. From there you walk up a long ramp as the city appears to rise up out of the sea for several stories. Once at the top you find your self flanked by rows of multi level buildings on each side. A quick peak into a few of the buildings generally rewards you with clues as to its intended function. To the left there was a building that had a long table with giant amphora pots embedded in it, this was a restaurant. Down the road was a bath house with changing rooms and robe cubbies and hot cold rooms. Around the corner is a lavish house with several rooms and fountain next to a temple, a wealthy priest’s house. A large two story building with several rooms, this was an apartment building. Another large multi roomed building with common areas, this was a hotel. A building with a mill and a giant brick oven, this was a bakery. There was even a building with a large press at floor level, this was a laundromat. Togas apparently needed pressing too. Actually the typical roman laundromat would wash clothes with ammonia derived from human urine. There you have it, next time some one pisses themselves you are equipped with some fun facts which might lift their spirits, no guarantees.

 

 After an hour or so of walking the ancient roads the city will start to transform. At some point it transcends its condition, it ceases to be ruins and becomes a community. Herculaneum is so exciting to me because it is infinitely relatable in the way the Roman Coliseum or medieval castles are not. It takes no effort to imagine the people who lived there, no effort to see the city as they did, and no effort to sympathize with their fate. 

On August 24th 79 AD Mount Vesuvius began to quake and fume intensely. Some may have tried to evacuate through the ash raining down across the Bay of Naples, but several remained in what they through might be a safe place. Remember the alcoves at the docks I spoke about earlier? Some 300 of the inhabitants of the town hid inside these niches built into the rock. Young and old, rich, and poor, baker, blacksmith, and priest were likely praying to their gods for safety. On August 25^th around 1:00 the mountain erupted and Herculaneum would be hit by the pyroclastic flow, a wall of hot gasses burning at 932 degrees blasted the town at 100 mph. Our huddling townsfolk’s blood instantly boiled and their teeth popped like popcorn kernels in their heads. This happened 6 times before the ash settled and entombed the skeletons in the docks. I hesitate to call them “skeletons” because the word is too hollow, at the end of the day they became neighbors with lives and stories to me.

I can’t finish this letter on a somber note, let’s pick it up a bit... 

We got back to the Oropeza B&B and rested our weary feet from our long day. Soon though, our stomachs had a craving that can only be alleviated by pizza. “When in Naples, eat pizza,” I just quoted myself. Katie had a great idea to host a pizza tasting competition, which is a challenge I’ve never turned down. We ordered 4 pizza’s for the 3 of us and started eating like it was August 23, 79 AD (too soon?). There was one margherita pizza, one prosciutto pizza, an eggplant pizza and a weird non traditional one with arugula and corn. We all lost count of how many slices we ate for science.   In the end the margherita pizza from our host’s favorite place was the clear winner. I’d like to think the Herculanean baker would have agreed. 

There's a Line for Baguettes

The stars aligned so Jeff and I got a second trip in while he was in Europe. Next destination? PARIS! With his sense of adventure and willingness to do things I didn't get to do last trip, we adapted to the city's pace and spent a fabulous long spring weekend exploring, eating, and getting cultured. But, this is his post- not mine! Enjoy!

Paris has a pollution problem right now. Several times this year already it's exceeded the maximum PPM levels for particulate matter and as a solution, the city has offered free public transportation on the weekends, including bicycles ("velos"). This was not the case during the two days Katie and I were there, and the one time we tried to rent velos in Versailles, the shop was closed. But that was probably the only disappointment of the trip.

Nevertheless Paris delivered on its promise of being big and beautiful in a rustic kind of way. Cobblestones and ancient stone buildings made a nice backdrop for the tailored snappiness of groomed Parisians. Crepes, frog legs, and truffle chicken made its way into my mouth along with a few carafes and bottles of wine in cafes and parks.

The common social bond shared amongst its residents perhaps stems from the outstanding amount of taxes that supports the French way of life. With a fag in hand, legs crossed, and a beer next to an ashtray, Parisians regale each other in sidewalk seating all hours of the day with their swooning vowels and machine gun consonants. C'est la vie, I've heard.

The Mona Lisa, the Eiffel tower, Notre Dame, Versailles, and 6 million dead bodies were all visited by my sister and I. We came, we saw, and we conquered some universal bucket list items. We en guarded against pick pockets. We discussed the ramifications of giving every US citizen 1 airstrike to call in at will. And we had croissants.

In all, a fine trip and a perfect way to cap off my stay abroad. Big shout out to my metro navigator, hotel booker, and big sister Katie!

And Now We Wait. (Yes, Still.)

It's been a week since the job I think that I really (really) want closed for applications. Now I'm playing the waiting game.

A game a suck at.

I'm so terrible at it that when I was little I would know 95% of my presents under the Christmas tree well before the 25th.

I'm the one that will start down a new path while waiting for the results of the path I just jumped from.

My nights are restless. My food choices terrible. And my credit card bills seems to spike around all important life decision.

So, imagine my shock when I received an "all hands" email today announcing that the next command event in a mere 2 weeks would be including my upcoming farewell. Lots of thoughts raced through my brain, especially since my departure was still fresh on my mind after discussions earlier in the day.

But really? End of March for an end of May departure? Sure, let's make me more anxious about a situation I'm already losing sleep and gaining pounds over.

I've got to applaud our group though as there have been several folks leaving the command lately that have left just like everyone else out the door on a Friday afternoon, not to return on Monday. But really?!?! Way to throw it in my face with streamers, searchlights, and a loud speaker reminding me that I still don't have an answer as to where I'm going in 75 days from now.

Then I got to thinking. Yes, I do a lot of thinking. It's part of the living alone and having really long commutes every day. Monterey is my default solution. Is it the preferred solution? Not by a long shot, but if it's the "worst" destination that I can think of right now? I guess it's not all that bad?

Just Another Travel Adventure

This is one of those stories that you are hearing about because it turned out okay. And it already happened. And I don't plan on doing it again, nor should you attempt it. And yes, the guys at the office have already mandated that I re-do all my trainings because apparently I did not apply the skills set they are trying to teach. I love all my big brothers that can look me dead in the eye and ask how can I be so stupid and yet smart at the same time. 

Now, with that kind of lead up...

$#!% that Happens When I'm Left to My Own Devices: 

Katie's 1st Adventure in Brussels

Bag collected, train station located, ticket purchased & platform located.

Determined to execute my plan of getting the Brussels' central train station and getting a cab for the short distance to the hotel given the late hour, suitcase, and the simple fact that I'm exhausted and have no patience to get lost I find the taxi stand.

The first guy passes me to the next car, claiming he doesn't understand the hotel name (despite me showing it on the paper, complete with address.) The original guy comes and asks and then proceeds to give me instructions because it's "really close."

I must have made him repeat the instructions 3 times, and I repeated them back to him each time. Direction number one? Cut through a dark looking park area which wasn't too long of a stretch.

At this point I didn't even mind the stairs because I was more concerned with the swaying drunk man, beer still in hand, walking in front of me. I purposely slowed down until we were on the street before passing him at which point he starting to serenade me. Fortunately, even in the late hour, our hotel was in the thick of things so there were lots of people still out and I was able to head off in the direction I was told.

Problem is, none of the roads I saw were on the craptastic map I had BECAUSE I was planning to have a cab take me! I walked around for a good 20 minutes, trying to remember which landmarks our hotel was by after doing the search for where we wanted to stay. I hit the main street and knew I needed to back track into the cobblestone alley ways (fabulous for rolling a suitcase by the way) so I did.

It was probably about 15 more minutes of this when a guy on the street asks if everything is okay. Actually it was more of a Mademoiselle, what's wrong? As he crossed the street to his car. So I asked him where we were on the map and if he knew which direction I needed to go because it's midnight, I've been up since 5 and I'm lost. Why? Cause the taxi drivers decided that it was close enough I could walk. Ha. I can't read maps and oh, I don't have one and the directions he gave me to where he "thought" it was? Um there was the dark park to kick it off which I was okay with but then there was a really drunk guy and he was singing me a song so I booked it out of there.

No. He didn't speak English all that well so I kept all of that in my head.

He of course didn't really know where the hotel was so he asks 2 younger guys (with beers in their hands) headed our direction if they knew where my hotel is. I soon realize he's getting driving instructions and when I protest that I'll walk, my suitcase ends up in his trunk while the other 2 guys start "dude, California" and ask if I want beer. And suggest I should call them. Then one of the guys  asked me for his number but his wing man totally failed at his job because he encouraged us to get out of there.

So I get in the car. Cell phone out. (No there weren't any new numbers in there!) Seriously. at this point I could end up in Africa a lot faster than I've ever planned, but I just didn't care. I'm tired. We get to the main road and he stops and asks people. They're tourist too. Next stop was a guy...he point in some direction.

We go that direction. Flag another person down. Sends us another direction.

Flag a cab driver down. He gets us to the right street then I see a cafe with the same name as the hotel and we're on the right street. My friend Samil from Cameroon goes in and comes out with a waiter who tells us its down the street. He moves back towards the car, but I tell him I an walk the rest of the way. He claims it's a 3 minute walk...it was the across the alley and 2 doors in. 

And I was already excited to see Jeff, but after this ordeal? Words cannot even express the thrill I had when he opened the door and we promptly laughed at both our "adventures" getting to the hotel. 

In summary...

1. I would not have gotten in the car if I really didn't feel good about the situation, but it passed the gut check. 
2. I'm happy to report that the people of Brussels are super friendly, helpful, and kind. 
3. Yes, I had my personal items in my lap, door was unlocked, hand near door handle, and I was ready to see if I could run just in case events turned to something that crazy; and luckily they did not because wearing the same clothes all weekend would have sucked.