Longkong

The first question you may be asking is: “What in the world is a Longkong?” It is a fruit native to Thailand, slightly larger than a grape but smaller than a strawberry, with a distinctive sweet and sour taste. It has translucent flesh with a shiny seed the size of a marble in the center that has a rich brown color.

The next question would be: “Why devote a blog entry to such a fruit?” Especially a blog where I typically share things I consider to be adventures. I have spent over six years trying to find this fruit. It became a mystical endeavor for me, an adventure in its own right. It made sense I couldn’t find it in upstate New York. But for the past three years I have lived in NYC, where anything and everything you could possible want from around the globe is offered to you. Except, apparently, the Longkong. In every new grocery store, every little hole-in-the-wall deli, every fruit stand, I explored the fruit section looking and hoping without result.

Last week I went to the fruit man by my work and saw a large box filled with small round tan circles. I barely restrained myself to buying two pounds; I wanted the whole box.

The fruit isn’t some ambrosia-like substance. It is about more than just the taste for me. Every time I peel back the thin tan skin, I’m reminded of sitting on benches eating with the girls from the Home of Blessing in Thailand after they returned from school. They didn’t own many possessions but they took such delight in sharing their lives with us. Plus, like all students, it provided a distraction from starting their homework. While working on building a road or clearing the rice fields we had pockets filled with Longkong.

Camp+

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nuT1uvDR64

Labor Day weekend I went to summer camp with my go-to outdoorsy friend M and Urban Escapes. It had all the right ingredients to recreate the world of middle school sleepaway camp, plus a few additions, like wine, to update it for adults. There were roaring bonfires with sing-alongs and smores; small wooden cabins with bunk beds and bugs; games such as volleyball, capture the flag, flag football, and kickball; exercise with yoga and trail runs; crafts such as lanyard keychain making; water events of blobbing and a zip line; and nightly dance parties. There was even a 20+ person cup game. Our behavior matched that of summer camps I remember with new friends, innocent flirtations, mild drama, and sneaking around after curfew. The guides had an amazing comaraderie between themselves though many of them had never met and that created an atmosphere of friendship and fun for the rest of us.

The video and picture are of blobbing. Which, as I so gracefully demonstrate, is a lot more entertaining when it goes slightly wrong. Thanks to R&D for the spectacular gang blob.

This summer has been dominated by water activities. I went kayaking on the Hudson with my sister. Downtown Boathouse is a free kayaking rental program which allows you to kayak against the beautiful backdrop of the Upper West Side. The day was perfect and not only because we did not tip into the sketchy dirty water filled with lotto tickets and other trash.

I also went whitewater rafting. The guides said there were level 3 rapids. I doubt it. Still we did go through rapids backwards as a general rule, hit almost every rock even if it was on the opposite side of the river from us, and propel everyone on my side of the boat into the water.

Biodegradable

From my water bottle:

“This bottle is completely biodegradable… This bottle currently biodegrades in every State in the U.S. except CA”

So does the bottle like CA so much that it wants to stay there forever? Or does it hate the state so much that it refuses to do its part to help with the pollution issue in protest?

Skydiving

The best part about life is every experience is different. I've jumped off things and over things but the sensation of jumping out of a plane while sky diving is unique and not just because my ears hate the change in altitude. I thought the best way to share the experience is through a photo montage. A link to the video is first:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcFOr-kPA-g


Signing our lives away... literally.

My dive group

Getting ready to board!














"Whoa. That's a long..."














"...way down"














No idea you go headfirst towards the ground at 200 miles an hour.














"Look at me I did it!"














Stable but fast. Jumped at 14,000 feet. The little pink chute (not pictured) is for stability. It doesn't seem to slow you down any.














Enjoying the ride.














Spinning in circles.














Trying to take it all in.














Simply smiling and flying














My instructor (Rob) was also keeping an eye on my videographer (Timmayo). Here he is telling him to pull his legs in. Clearly signals sent to me wouldn't be processed. I use their names because if you go this is the team you want. But if you go with me, I get first claim.














Goofing off at 6,000 feet.














Isn't there something you should be doing at 5,000 feet?














Oh yeah, pulling the cord.

I opened the chute! (with a little help). What isn't pictured here is the floating time. Suspended in the air, spinning is circles, taking in the sights.















Coming in for the landing.















A suprisingly graceful landing.

The complete team, back on solid ground.

I never consciously thought I would die but my body responded with a survival instinct. Time slows down, the world seems brighter, and I become very hyper. The views are amazing and because the senses are on overload, it is possible to take in the sights even when in free fall. After the parachute is released you float above the world in a calm manner. My instructor and I followed some hawks because they are the clues to thermals which allow you to stay in the air longer. I was the first one out of the plane of my team and the last to touch down. We spun different ways and I learned how to stop the chute in the air giving an odd feeling of weightlessness and gravity at the same time.

A new friend and fellow team member eloquently captured her personal deeper meaning behind sky diving over lunch as “Letting Go”. For me, it took some time for my survival part of the brain to quiet enough for me to realize that the deep recesses of my brain had also been working while traveling though the air at 200 miles per hour.

When I look at my life and the next steps I’m “supposed” to take, I realize I don’t want the traditional life. I kept trying to ignore that, to force myself into roles that don’t give me purpose. I decided years ago that 27 would be the best year of my life. So far I’m right. The reason: I am purposefully creating this wonderful year. Filling it with the expereinces I want. The theme of this year is perfectly captured in skydiving: Creating amazing, bright, meaningful moments.

I went skydiving in New Jersey at Freefall Adventure. They are the largest center in the Northeast. The instructors are amazing. Everyone responds to the stress of their first jump differently and the instructors work hard to match what is needed for each individual. Calming down those that are nervous, rationally talking through those that are reserved, and blending hyped up excitement with instruction for those that can’t stop talking. Take a wild guess which I would be. If you can’t figure it out re-watch the video.

Hiking

One of the hardest adjustments about living in the City is the lack of weekend hiking trips. Growing up between the Adirondacks and the Catskills meant we went hiking a lot. Since moving to Manhattan, it’s a little more difficult to get out into nature. While my sister was in grad school (Congrats Aimee you’re done!) I would meet up with her for the weekend. Luckily there are a few groups in Manhattan that take hikers up to the mountains. This past weekend my friend M and I decided to go on a hike, swim, wine trip. The idea was to hike for 2.5 miles to a lake, swim in said lake, then hike 2.5 miles back to the car and go to a local vineyard for a wine tasting.

That was the idea.

Instead we and the 13 other people on the trip wandered around lost for approximately 15 miles in 90 degree heat without ever finding the lake.

We wandered along the white path, the blue path, the white/blue path, the white and blue path (they are all different), the yellow path, and there was a touch of the red path in there as well. I’m surprised that everyone stayed as positive as they did. I’m not saying people were happy with the situation. But it could have been a lot worse than the mild grumblings at the tail end of the group as we solemnly marched through the woods.

The only reason we got out of the woods was another participant took a picture of the map and used his iphone to locate our position with GPS. Iphones typically have spotty service but in the middle of the woods it seemed to work fine. We added to the Iphone ad campaign: “15 people lost in the woods… there’s an ap for that”

For me in terms of personal self-growth, I saw again how I don’t have a lot of patience. I’ve been hiking almost my whole life. The groups from Manhattan are usually made up of people who have never been hiking before. Because of this, the pace is slow with a lot of stops. Eventually my friend and I were irritated enough and moved ahead of the group, allowing us to hike at a faster more enjoyable speed. Plus it gave us time to catch up. That is until we got to a road that wasn’t supposed to be there. The first of a few strange roads. The most frustrating part was sitting in a batch of ferns knowing beyond a doubt that this was the way we had come and having the rest of the group decide that taking the white trail was better. Like I said, patience is something I don’t seem to have a lot of.

I hike with a goal in mind. I tend to walk as quickly up the mountain as I can to the summit. It’s a clear cut success or fail approach. In comparison, my dad hikes for the journey. Whether he makes it to the summit or not, he is out in nature, taking pictures of flowers and insects that I never see because I am sprinting ahead. This past weekend we never got to the lake but the journey was memorable. Part of the reason it was so memorable was because it was difficult. That and by the end dehydration was starting causing us to laugh at anything.

Fire-eating

Create the moment, remember the moment, and cherish the moment. ~Isaak Gelbinovich

My favorite moment from the Toastmasters conference I attended this weekend actually occurred after the event itself. As we were leaving, two of the presenters were practicing fire eating. That's right, the circus act type of thing. I was asked if I wanted to learn.

Why not?

Life is all about choices. It can be basic and grey, driven by fear or filled with experiences and colorful. I’m very blessed to have a life where I’m not worried about food or shelter. Instead, I can focus on creating a life filled with powerful moments and limitless snapshots. Some have an adrenaline rush like cliff jumping or trapeze school. But others are precious, like seeing Adi smile for the first time* or watching a group of high school students who’d never experienced anything outside of upper middle class America start to broaden their understanding of the world and take charge of their lives. It’s all about the journey. I never want to look back on my life and say “I wish I had done X when I had the chance but I was too afraid.”

The concept of fire-eating is simple. Limitations we face are often self-imposed responses to obstacles. The human mind and body are capable of so much more than we express. Fire is an influential symbol because we have experience with the power of fire. It cooks food, can destroy forests and houses, can burn a person, and brings needed heat and light. The concept of fire-eating says by overcoming fear and believing you can accomplish this task; you empower and equip yourself to take charge of your life in other areas.

I do want to make a note: I wasn’t alone trying this out in my apartment on a whim. Croix Sather is a motivational speaker/success hypnotist who frequently uses fire-eating in his presentations and has a lot of experience teaching participants how to eat fire safely. (Check out his website here) Before we even started practicing, he explained the physics of the process. Then he explained the personal implications, how the fire symbolized taking control of all aspects of my life. Throughout the experience he stood next to me, talking me through each step. I, however, had to be the one to actually put the fire in my mouth. No one else can do that, or anything else, for you.

As a side note, I think joining the circus might be my Plan B. I've got the trapeze down, riding on an elephant's head, cheetah taming, and now fire eating. Once I learn to juggle I’m set. Does the circus go to Australia and Antarctica? This could be my ticket to finish visiting all seven.

* For those who don’t know: Adi is a sweet young boy I met while working in a Romanian orphanage. All these years later he is still on my heart. For those who do know the story of Adi: Can you believe he is already 14? (He was five when I met him)

Names

This past weekend at a Toastmaster conference, one of the speakers talked about the power of words to create your life whether in blessing or curse. I got to thinking about a subset, the power of names.

Many creation stories describe a process for naming things, but one that is connected to the creation itself. We give names to pets to separate them from other animals and show possession. There are dogs and then there was MY dog Jeremiah. Nicknames are given to demonstrate connection to another person, secret jokes known only to a small group of privileged people. Last names demonstrate lineage, middle names at times are used to show respect to a family member.

Then there are the names that we use in our internal dialog. The same syntax is used (in present day English) to demonstrate a state of being such as I am hungry and names. I am Jennifer. Because of this, the phrase “I am” ties directly into our understanding of who we are as a person. “Names” such as Beautiful or Stupid when used in this syntax over time can become as much a part of ourselves as our given names.

While in Kenya, I was given a “second name” that means Spirit of the Cheetah. I love the second name concept. It isn’t a nickname used by only a few friends, it isn’t a middle name picked by parents. It is a name given after puberty, usually by the group, to pinpoint the defining characteristic of the person, who they truly are. In cultures where a second name is used it has at least equal weight to the person’s given name. Introductions use either name, often both. To the kids at the orphanage, not having a second name was almost as if I was missing part of myself.

In my life at the moment there are a couple intimidating situations. To me, my second name has become a reminder of who I am. Without having to do anything more, I am Wanguarai. Therefore, I already possess the skills needed to overcome the obstacles.

Plus, I’ve pet a grown cheetah. Even though she looks dead or sleeping in the picture, she definitely isn’t. If I can approach a full grown animal that has the ability to rip my arm off before I even start running, can the situations I’m facing now be that difficult? Incidentally, cheetahs purr like giant house cats when petted.