Can you cook?

From as far back as I can recall, I have always answered the question, "Can you cook?" with an unwavering response: Nope. Most of the time, this was accompanied by a sad little shake of the head and downcast eyes: my way of apologizing for somehow having given them the wrong impression of me and my culinary abilities. Part of the misunderstanding might stem from the fact that I like to eat. A lot. Although it's important to consider the quality of the food being eaten, what I'm generally after is quantity. I rarely eat less than two servings during a meal, and have been known to devour an entire plate of unattended cookies with such devotion and fervor that people sitting nearby are often left wondering what the cookies ever did to me.
Honestly though, I don't think my enthusiasm for eating is so unreasonable. I've heard of bodybuilders who eat something like 13 steaks in the course of a single day. Then again, those guys are probably twice my size and work out for maybe 6 hours a day, so we know where that food is going. Regardless, when I eat two plates of spaghetti, the experience is generally enjoyable, and the food somehow goes to good, healthy use (I've been the exact same weight since sophomore year of high school).
Because of my obvious enthusiasm for food, some people assume that I know how to cook and, as I said earlier, I've always been a disappointment in that category. Until now, I guess.
In the past year or so, I've started trying to put together meals which are a) satisfying, b) plentiful and, c) relatively inexpensive. Understandably, I began with pasta. Don't misunderstand me here, I'm not saying that I make the pasta from scratch or can my own red sauce. It seemed wiser to start with something that works (dried whole wheat pasta, premade sauce in a jar) and start adding to it. Initially, you might have seen me standing in the kitchen with a zuchini in one hand, a dull knife in the other, and a look of complete bewilderment on my face. It's one thing to microwave a potato, but this was something else. I knew that I was entering a strange and potentially dangerous new world, and there wasn't any turning back. Even then, I realized that I was crossing a point of no return. Whatever lessons I learned (be it from disaster or success) couldn't be unlearned.
And so I added more and different vegetables, experimented with spices, and even tried baking a thing or two. I remember the night that I called my mother to ask her for her lasagna recipe. "My what?", she asked. "Lasagna? You know that has to be cooked, right?". After I convinced her that I knew where the fire extinquisher was, she told me the necessary steps and wished me good luck. The next day, I called her after eating four pieces of lasagna to tell her of my success and that she didn't need to worry about me anymore: I could cook. Realizing that I wasn't in any obvious gastrointestinal distress, she packed up and went to Cuba. I guess she figured, "The boy can feed himself. I'm going on vacation."
Today, I achieved something which was no less remarkable than the lasagna success (except that I had no idea where the fire extinguisher was): I made cookies, by myself, from scratch. Okay, so maybe that last part isn't exactly true. I didn't grind the flour or churn the butter, but I did combine all the correct ingredients in the proper order, and finished it off by baking them all to damn-near perfection. As a kid, it was always my job to lick every piece of utensil and equipment before placing it in the sink to be washed. I thought mine was an important task, but upon reflection it occurs to me that this was simply my mother's way of keeping me out of the way. It was a clever diversion because a) there was no way I was going to let any of that sweet, gooey heaven go to waste and, b)there was a certain incident when I, as a young child, decided to confirm whether or not the stove top was in fact hot by placing my hand on the glowing red coil. So really, she was acting on previous experience in order to protect me and the cookies at the same time.
As I did after the Lasagna Challenge, I called my mother to boast of my latest success in the kitchen, this time with cookies. Again she congratulated me, but this time distractedly. I think she was looking up plane tickets.

Paradise? Not really.

An interesting thing happens when you decide to pack up the few things you own, say goodbye to friends and family, then fly all the way over to Maui to start a new chapter in your life: you quickly wonder why you did it.
It's a beautiful place here for sure, but Maui really isn't the place for young people looking for jobs to come to in hopes of "making it". It's a place to come, see, spend money, and leave. Everything (food, housing, transportation) is expensive, there's not many jobs (ESPECIALLY with the current dismal state of the global economy), and what few jobs come available are quickly given to those who are familiar to the ones doing the hiring (and not necessarily those best qualified). Add to this the underlying hostility directed towards all those who aren't born and raised on the island, and you're looking at a tough place to get your foot in the door. The great irony in this case is that Jenn is way OVER qualified for the job she's doing, and I haven't found work despite the grumblings that locals are lazy and not dependable. If I don't stop myself now, I'm likely to say a few nasty things about the prevalent and dominant mentalities on this island (look up "Polynesian paralysis"), but suffice it to say that I doubt this will be one of those places that I always dream of returning to.
On the very plus side of things, Jenn and I are really happy together. We are enjoying our lovely little ohana (think: cottage) and we've even got banana and papaya trees in the back yard!
So, all in all, this is a good challenge for us as individuals and as a couple. In that sense, things are very good.

A BIG Day in American History!

A number of adjectives come to mind when describing the recent election of Barrack Obama as the next president of the United States: exciting, surprising, frightening, uplifting, etc. As the nation's blackest president to ever be elected (sorry Bill, you've been moved down a spot), and also one of the youngest, he's got a lot riding on his shoulders.
These are simply statistics, however. What impresses and intrigues me most about him at this point is the effect he's had on the young voters of this country: more were involved in this election than any other in American history, and it's about damned time! America's youth (myself included, at this point) are a difficult group to engage in politic discussion, much less involvement. Why is that? I suspect it's because we are told from an early age that America is the "greatest", "strongest", "most influential" government in the world. This being the case, why should we bother taking time away from our busy lives of having fun and thinking of our own best interests in order to get involved in seemingly irrelevant topics like (yawn) foreign affairs?
Well, maybe that's beginning to change. Even the most naive of teenagers can't help but be at least peripherally aware that the US economy is in a disastrous state. And even if they don't know what exactly that means, one can't help but notice when mum and dad say they can't afford to buy them a new $300 cellphone so they can chat with their friends on the opposite side of campus. Oh, and they can't really expect to be able to get a job and save up to buy it for themselves because there aren't any good jobs available! Well, that last bit might be a bit of an overstatement, but still it's no secret that simply having a high school diploma will get you nowhere, and a college degree is on the brink of becoming similarly outdated. To put it bluntly: suddenly, young Americans are receiving mixed messages about their so called "God-given" rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Things are tough these days. And, although many see the upcoming inauguration of President-elect Obama as a cause for renewed optimism, I hope that most of us realize that a simple slowing down of the rapid decline of our economy over the next four years should be seen as a victory for him, and for us. Whether you like him or not, no one in their right mind can reasonably deny that George Bush has dug a VERY deep hole for America to climb out of. And although I believe that Obama has the vision, fortitude, and resolve to turn things around, I think that, at best, we'll find ourselves inching our way out of this abyss, rather than leaping from it during his presidency. I hope that the pessimists of this society realize that it took 8 years for Bush to get us into this mess, but it will take far longer than that to get us out of it.

Wow...I mean Wakawao!

So much has happened since leaving Monterey nearly a month and a half ago that I'm really not sure how to go about explaining it all. I guess the best (although least interesting) way is to simply take the chronological approach. If anyone finds it tedious reading about the ground I've covered between then and now, I won't take it personally. It's a lot!
The first stop was a one-way flight up to Anchorage, Alaska. After a quick overnight visit with a friend, I hitchhiked for all of the following day in order to return to Denali National Park, where I met up once again with Jenn. The plan? Hang around for a week until the end of the summer season, then head south in search of fertile plains (ie, new jobs!). A couple of days before the closing of the west end of the park, Jenn got the good news that she'd gotten a job on...are you ready for this...Maui, Hawaii!! With this turn of events, we decided to spend a week or so with some of her friends at their rustic homes in the outskirts of Fairbanks before beginning the loooooong drive south to California (where we both had some obligations to take care of before heading to Aloha land). We were able to dog sled, drive (and damn near destroy) a four-wheeler in desolate woods, build and burn the largest bonfire I've ever seen, experience true log cabins (ie, lacking in modern amenities and amazing because of it!), and we even saw the northern lights! All this, and we still had roughly 6000 miles over land and sea ahead of us!
For three days following departure from Fairbanks-ish, we drove south through parts of Yukon and British Columbia, Canada and then back into southeast Alaska. From there, we drove onto a ferry, which took us to Juneau and then a nearly 48 hour trip through the Inside Passage down to southern British Columbia. On the ferry, we saw whales, porpoises, bald eagles, and slept on the floor. Yep, that was part of the adventure as well. By the last day, I was going a little stir crazy from the lack of activity, and so we walked laps around the ship for an hour before dinner. Each lap took 8 minutes. That's how big it was!
Whew...I'm getting tired just thinking of all the ground we'd covered, but there was more...
After resuming our drive in Prince Rupert, we had several long days of driving ahead of us. We were very fortunate to have friends (some old, some newly acquired) to stay overnight with in Prince George, Vancouver, Portland, and Sacramento, before finally making it back to Monterey Peninsula. It's kind of bizarre to consider that I went so far, and then wound up right back where I started, but it was an entirely new kind of adventure which was no less thrilling for the fact that it was circular.
After less than a week in Monterey (actually, I managed to squeeze in a quick road trip down to Santa Barbara to see my family), Jenn and I were on a plane bound for Maui.
My head is spinning at this point, just thinking about this whirlwind travelling. It's actually quite entertaining to see the look on people's faces when they ask where we "came from". It's a difficult question to answer! In one sentence, I can throw in Santa Barbara, Monterey, and Alaska. I mean geez, who does that?! I'm not complaining though, quite the opposite. Now that we've been in Maui for nearly a week, it's finally sinking in that all of that flying, driving, and boating was to get us here, where we can start the real adventure! Just this morning, Jenn and I awoke at 5am in a chilly tent on the side of Mt. Haleakala in order to make it to the summit in time to see the sunrise over the moonscape terrain that the volcano features. It was amazing. I'm too tired to write about it though, so instead I'll try putting some of the photos up on my flickr site for those interested to see: http://flickr.com/photos/48159374@N00/sets/
whew...

Final Tour of Duty

Well, that's it: my last dive tour here in Monterey. Although I'm leaving the area before the dive "season" (ie, summertime) is complete, I feel totally satisfied with what I've accomplished in the time I've spent here. I assumed responsibility for 34 divers (sometimes alone, sometimes in groups), and managed to safely return back to the beach with every one of them despite their best (and and often fascinating) efforts to prevent me from doing so. I'm quite proud of the progress I've made both as a diver and a dive guide, based largely on the overwhelmingly positive response I've received from the customers. Although there were a few dives that went less well than I would have liked (bashed knee, lost customer who I feared dead, etc.), overall I don't think that I could have hoped for much better. Furthermore, all of the so-called "problems" that arose during the few difficult dives could have been prevented had I done something differently. Thus, I have plenty of room to improve!
So now that I'm done with the diving, there are just a handful of things to take care of before moving on one week from today. I need to collect the remaining $3000 or so that I'm owed from three employers, figure out what to do with my scant possessions, and spend some time working out options for this winter.
Oh right, this winter! Next week, I head up to Oakland to go backpacking with good friends for several days. As soon as I get back, I board a plane for distant plains. More on that later, but for now let me quote Will Hunting by saying that I'm going "to see about a girl"...

Feeling good, and soggy

When I was 6 years old, I was introduced to soccer, the ocean, and a life of activity in general. In junior high school, I played basketball as often as six times per day. And as a 17 year old, I decided on a whim to try water polo, and discovered that physical exhaustion takes on a whole new intensity when you're in the deep end of the pool with 200lb guys trying their best to drown you.
I've been fortunate to have a healthy body that allows me to push myself the way I have and, although I've perhaps been fitter at some point in my young life, it's hard to imagine being much more active than I am right now!
I have been working 7 days a week for what seems like months now, mostly as a scuba divemaster. During the weeks, I guide customers on beach dives in Monterey an average of twice per day. The routine involves getting myself and my customers suited up with roughly 70lbs of dive gear, walking 300 metres to the beach, swimming on the surface another 200 metres, and then beginning the actual dive. Afterwards, we walk back to the shop, refill our tanks, and do the whole thing over again. Oh, and did I mention that my wetsuit is 12mm thick? It's not exactly the most forgiving piece of clothing to jostle about in. This month in particular has been quite intense physically. In the month of July, I dived 23 times (which includes the dives I did while cleaning boats in the harbor for up to 5 hours at a time). Last week alone however, I got in, through, and out of the water thirteen times in just six days! Not only is that a personal record for diving, I'm starting to notice a level of physical fitness the likes of which I haven't experienced since playing varsity soccer in high school. When I play pick up soccer on mondays and wednesdays (for fun, of course), I regularly discover that I'm able to run (and breathe) much more easily than I have in years. Not bad for a guy who had asthma as a kid, and was told that I'd never be able to dive because of problems with my ears.
It's a great feeling to be able to bike up a long hill on the way to work, complete several dives which may or may not involve towing an exhausted man 100lbs my superior, scrub boats in the harbor for 3 hours, bike home again, and then run around with friends for two hours on the soccer field.
But to be totally honest, it isn't too hard for me to fall asleep these days...

Damned stupid turkey!

You know those days when you're driving home from the golf course, covered in tiny squirming leeches after having been scuba diving for golf balls in the absolute zero visibility/light ponds for an hour and a half, and a damned stupid turkey runs right out in front of your car?
What's that? You don't have those kind of days? Huh. Now that you mention it, it was a first for me as well.
The good news here is that a) the leeches seem rather disinterested in remaining attached to me and, b) the stupid damned turkey survived the encounter without a scratch and was last seen running at breakneck speed back and forth on the side of a small hill for no apparent reason, like the brainless creature it is.

Accursed?

It's been a rather dismal week. Without going into too much details (which would probably depress me to see in writing), the following events have transpired. This week, I...
-smashed my knee on a rock while trying to help a scuba diving customer exit the beach when he shouldn't have
-lost a mooring ball in the depths of the harbor when in fact I was supposed to be doing the relatively simple job of replacing the chain
-thought I experienced my first scuba diving casualty, only to find out that the guy I was guiding had separated and decided to swim the whole rest of the way back to the beach without me. I thought he was dead on the bottom somewhere.
-woke up yesterday with the beginnings of a cold (which shouldn't happen, because I'm on a boat or underwater most days of the week!)
-woke up this morning with a full fledged cold, but still had to get up at 5:45am, put on my cold and wet wetsuit, and work as divemaster on a dive boat.
-and finally, I drove straight through a red light on a main street here in Monterey while in some kind of daze, but managed not to cause an accident. I was SO lucky not to hurt anyone else or myself, when it could have easily gone another way entirely.

After all this has transpired, I've found myself wondering if there's some cosmic lesson that I'm supposed to learn from all of this. Then, my good friend John-Paul provided a different perspective. He told me the story of a seemingly healthy middle aged man in the hospital he works at who has genetic health problems which, in all honesty, should have killed him long ago. Instead, the man has been bedridden for a year following a heart transplant. Despite all this, the man apparently maintains a cheerful disposition and routinely expresses his gratitude for the good things in his life. After that, what excuse do I have to bitch? A bum knee, head cold, nearly-dead customer...bah!

As far as the eye can see!

This weekend, while working as Divemaster aboard a 2-tank dive boat in Monterey (the same one I've been on for several months now), I heard rumor of 60-80 feet of visibility at a few spots inside the bay. Seeing as how the report came from customers on one of the other boats, I thought to myself, "Yeah right. I'll bet it's 40 feet or so". Now don't get me wrong, 40 feet of horizontal visibility here in Central California is downright awesome, so that wouldn't be anything to complain about. However, I've seen how far off some people can be when it comes to estimating everything from the clarity of the water, to the temperature, so I tend to take most comments with a grain of salt. Regardless, when I heard talk of 80 feet of vis, I asked the captain if it'd be alright for me to dive. I don't often make this request, because I spend 10 or more hours a week underwater and get a little burnt out on getting wet. Man, am I glad I asked!
We dropped the anchor on a pinnacle called Ball Buster, the peak of which is about 50-70 feet (depending on tide). I quickly suited up, hopped in, and headed down the anchor chain.
My first thought was something along the lines of, "Well, looks like they were full of sh*t!". The water was a green haze, but still the visibility looked to be about 20 feet or so, which is just fine for me. Just a few moments later though, I broke through the upper layer and, there before me, was the ENTIRE pinnacle! 75 feet from where the anchor lay, I could not only see the anchor with clarity, but another 30 feet or so beyond! My first thought was that I must have somehow wound up in the tropics, which was quickly followed up by the realization that it was FAR too cold for that! I estimated it to be more than 100 feet of crystal clear visibility if it was an inch. Maybe even 110'.I could read the bloody label on the tank of the diver who had descended ahead of me, and he was on the far side of the pinnacle!
Whenever I dive from a boat upon which I am working, I like to keep it short and quick, so that I don't neglect my duties on board. Thus, I dashed around the pinnacle once or twice, pointed out an octopus to the first diver, and then headed back up to the boat (which was visible from the bottom). I have been training an enthusiastic new guy on the boat to work as deckhand and divemaster, and so when he asked me how it was after I climbed back on board, I said simply, "Get in the water. You won't believe me if I tell you, just get in. Now." He came back with the biggest eyes I've seen on a diver in a long time.
I've never seen, nor even heard of such incredible conditions in California (except perhaps down at the Channel Islands). It's times like these that remind me why I love diving, and the Pacific Ocean, so damned much. Though I try to deny it, my hearing seems to be getting worse these days. This may or may not be a result of diving, but today I was reminded yet again of the need to take full advantage of the time I have underwater, because opportunities like these are rare treasures indeed!

Moving on

I felt I needed some closure to the situation on the whale watching boat before I left the company. I spoke with the Captain yesterday and told him what I thought about the whole fiasco, as well as how I feel the deck crew was wronged by the end result. He essentially agreed, but made as if his hands were tied. That's crap, because he's the captain, but it's out of my hands. I then spoke with the owner this morning and basically gave him the same spiel, to which he responded in a way that makes me glad I'm leaving now, rather than later. It is obvious to me that the problem will persist, and so I thanked him for the opportunity to work for him and told him that I won't be available to work on his boat so long as the current "policy" regarding distribution of tips is in place.
Closure achieved. Just in talking to three of my other employers today, I've wracked up enough work to more than make up for the days I was spending on that boat. In the words of my good pal John-Paul:
See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!

Drawing a line in the sand

Two months ago, I wrote about my frustrations while working aboard a whale watching boat here in Monterey. At the time, I mentioned how our naturalist was taking all of the tips given by the customers at the end of each trip and not sharing them with any of the rest of the crew (one or two deckhands, plus the captain). This was not only unheard of in my experience, but unwarranted given that all of the crew working on the boat receive verbal praise from customers on a daily basis. I've mostly kept my mouth shut about the problem (which, I realize now, was foolish at best), but last week it all came to a head. After a brief confrontation between myself and the naturalist at the end of a trip (she took the cash which had been placed in a tip jar reserved for deck crew), a meeting was scheduled in order to establish a protocol for the collection and distribution of tips. That meeting took place this afternoon, and it was (in my opinion) and total disgrace.
I've worked on a number of boats at this point. Further, I have been talking to several more experienced deckhands and captains and every single one of them expressed their belief that the tips should be split fairly between all the crew, seeing as how the quality of the customers' experience depends on the entire crew. At any rate, the end result of this meeting was that the tips will now be split between the naturalist and the deckhands, but not the captain. Furthermore, the deckhands will split 25% of the tips, with the remaining 75% going to the naturalist.
I'm writing rather poorly at the moment because I'm so completely disappointed with the results of this meeting, for so many reasons. If this was just about taking more money home, I would have quit long ago. It's not. It's about encouraging the crew to work together for the benefit of the customers, and reaping any rewards/punishment that comes from their efforts. The result of this meeting basically implies that a) the naturalist is at least three times more valuable than any deckhand, b) the captain plays no role in customer satisfaction and, c) the customers aren't capable of deciding who is responsible for their pleasant trip.
Before I get myself worked up into a frothing rant, I'll simply say that, as a result of this gross failing of the owner and captain to take a stand against the tyrant naturalist and do what's right by the entire crew, I no longer feel it is appopriate for me to work with them.
On behalf of myself and my fellow hard working deckhands, I feel I've been left with just one recourse to take a stand for what is right: Thus, first thing tomorrow I will be informing them of my immediate departure from the company.

The Best Option

Upon occasion, we are forced into a situation where we have to "choose the lesser of two evils". This suggests a point at which a person must decide upon an action which is not particularly desirable, but is nevertheless the least undesirable of the options available.
But what about when a person must choose from a number of equal (or at least comparable) decision in which all of the options are desirable? This is the dilemma I currently find myself in.
It would take far too much time and effort for me to outline all of the possibilities that I am considering for not-so-distant future endeavors. Thus, for the sake of preserving my sanity, I'll truncate the list to the following:

-driving the 3000+ miles from Denali Park, Alaska all the way down to southern California, stopping in several places to camp, visit friends, and explore cities along the way
-teaching english in South Korea, Japan, Peru, or Argentina
-moving to western Australia, Vancouver, or god-knows-where
-travelling to Peru to explore Machu Pichu
-overwintering in Florida, Hawaii, or somewhere tropical while working as a scuba divemaster

These are just a few of the options that I'm currently considering. So, when I hear people whinge about having to choose the lesser of two evils, I have difficulty empathizing with their plight. I recognize that I am in an incredibly privileged situation, but I nevertheless believe that many of us have a choice about the options we garner for ourselves. And so, for as long as I can get away with it, I will continue to dream big and out of proportion to the realities of an existence in which a day is just 24 hours, and a fortunate person lives to see just his or her 80th year.

Friends to Friends

Having just returned from Germany back to California, I find myself reflecting on one particular lesson learned on this trip. Several times, Aaron and I spoke at length about the remarkable family of friends that Matthias and Melli have been able to surround themselves with. It was so clear, from both the wedding and every other social occasion that we attended, that their friends are as thoughtful, generous, and loving as anyone could hope for. Repeatedly, Aaron and I were amazed and humbled by the lengths to which the Roses' friends go in order to express their affection for the newlyweds. They've set a higher standard that I now aspire to attain.
That being said, it was absolutely fitting that I should depart the company of such incredible friends (Matthias, Melli, and Aaron specifically) and be greeted by John-Paul and Andrea Tyler upon return to California. I met the couple while attending university in Northern California, and since that time our relationships have developed into something beyond simple friendship. They've shown me such unwavering love and support that I struggle to come up with a description of our relationship which is both adequate and accurate.
There are times in my life when I question the nature of friendship. In particular, I wonder if perhaps friendship is only possible when there is something tangible to be gained from such an intimate relationship with other people, beyond simple enjoyment of each other's company. If that were the case though, I could consider several of my friendships in which I can honestly say that I have no idea why they keep me around. Maybe it's a lack of self-confidence, or simply an inability to understand what they "gain" in the equation, but I sometimes look at my few-but-great close friendships and think to myself, "How did this happen? Why are they still talking to me?". After hearing their repeated efforts to explain their motivation to me, and which I still fail to appreciate, I've resigned myself to the much simpler approach of thanking my lucky stars. I've got it good. Not only do I have a family whose support and encouragement of me (despite the plethora and myriad of stupid decisions I've made in my life) borders on the insane, but I'm surrounded by a handful of friends who have no obvious (to me, anyways) explanations for treating me the way they do, but do so regardless.
It is with them in my life that I am able to achieve any and all of my personal successes, and I will forever feel indebted to them all.

Berlin, bombers, and biking buddies

Aaron, Matthias, Melli, and I have just returned from Berlin, where Melli was working at a conference to promote her company. The conference took place at the Berlin airport, and (fortunately for us guys) was presented in conjunction with an incredible airshow. I'm not generally that big on planes, cars, or anything else that goes vroom, but this was amazing! There were fighter jets from Switzerland, helicopters from India, and military transport carriers. There were helicopters that did barrel rolls upside-down (is that even possible?!), and the world's largest passenger jet: the Airbus A380. That sucker was HUGE! It currently holds more than 500 passengers, but is projected to hold 1,000 when they redesign it in the near future. Despite it's gargantuan proportions, the most amazing thing about it was how incredibly graceful it was. It took a surprisingly short stretch of runway to take off and, once aloft, was able to maneuver in tight turns that I wouldn't think any large passenger plane should be capable of. I tell you, it was a thing of beauty.
And then there was the B1 bomber. The announcer warned us to cover our ears when this thing took off because of the noise, but I tell you, he couldn't have prepared us for just how loud it really was! I had fingers jammed in both ears, and it still sounded like I was close enough to count the screws on the landing gear! What's more, the roaring jet engines set my chest to vibrating so much that it made me laugh like a tickled baby. Unbelievable!
Other highlights from the 4 day trip included getting a personal tour through the Reichstag (German parliament building), watching the sun set at the captivating Jewish memorial, biking through Tiergarten (Berlin equivalent to New York's central park), and seeing Aaron get assaulted by a woman dressed as a zombie.
Ahh, the good times...

The wedding

(Written May 25)

Weddings are not usually my thing, but this one was incredible! For starters, Melli and Matthias prepared so well for the day that the whole complicated affair went so smoothly as to seem nearly effortless. The wedding ceremony, reception, and arrangements for all of the family and guests must have required a HUGE amount of work to put together so beautifully, but Melli did so flawlessly (and let's be honest here, we all know that the wedding is the bride's affair, while everyone else simply serves to facilitate her dream day).
Aaron and I (the only non-German guests) enjoyed the ceremony despite having absolutely no idea of what anyone was saying. We simply smiled, stood up and sat down when everyone else did, and marvelled at the obvious effusion of love between the bride and groom, as well as all the guests for the newlyweds. The ceremony took place in the incredible Liebfrauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) in the main square in Nurnberg. Matthias and Melli lovingly involved their close friends and family in the event, and I was honored by them when asked (in advance) if I would participate in the wedding ceremony as well. I was amused to notice more than a few raised eyebrows while reading aloud in english in front of the entire church. Despite their surprise, and although most of the guests had no idea who Aaron or I were, we have been treated with nothing less than affection from everyone that we have had the pleasure to meet.
As for the reception afterwards, most who have known me for more than a minute will be surprised to hear that I, along with eveyone else, danced until the wee hours of the morning. It might not have been pretty, but it was too much fun to miss out on. And of course there was plenty of food and drink to facilitate the merrimaking. Altogether, it was a right perfect wedding and I will treasure it forever as one of the most enjoyable days of my life.

The long road to Germany

(Written May 21)

24 hours, 22 minutes after saying goodbye to John-Paul in Oakland, California, I was greeted cheerfully by Aaron, Melli, and Matthias in Nurnberg, Germany. It's rather exciting to think that I can walk out my front door in Monterey and travel all the way to their place in Nurnberg, and actually know exactly where I'm going and how to get there. It really is a small world.
It's hard to imagine that it's been nearly a year since I've seen M & M, and more than two years since parting ways with Aaron. After all that time though, not a thing has changed. It is absolutely fantastic spending time with these wonderful people again, especially in preparation for the upcoming wedding a few days hence. In between now and then, I imagine there will be some preparations for the wedding but also a fair bit of simply enjoying each others' company. Whoo hoo!

A Tip Earned

I've recently begun to have...difficulties with a woman who serves as the naturalist on the whale watching boat I work on during the week. For some reason, she is allowed to put out her own tip jar when she is on the boat, while we (ie, the two deckhands and the captain) must remove ours from sight. At the end of each trip, when customers choose to put money into the tip jar, they are in fact tipping her alone, rather than the entire crew. Furthermore, it is entirely up to her whether or not she shares the contents of the jar with the rest of us. Most of the time, based on criteria I have yet to understand, she chooses not to share it with the deckhands or the captain. This might not be a problem, except that I know for a fact that most customers assume that they are tipping the entire crew, and not just the naturalist, because that is the way it is on most boats. Traditionally, anything that is put into the tip jar is shared among the entire crew. To that end, whenever I'm handed cash directly (which occurs daily) and complimented/thanked for my efforts, I put it in the tip jar so that it can be shared with my crew mates.
Anyways, to make a long story short, I'm getting quite bloody fed up with this woman keeping the tips that I've earned. And today, I had an epiphany about why exactly this frustrates me so: if it was "just about the money", then I'd probably just keep the cash that was handed to me and be satisfied that I "got mine". But it's not about that. Of course, the money is important to me (after all, I'm working 7 days a week for a reason), but ultimately the tips are a reflection of the quality of service I'm offering. I'm no happier accepting tips that I didn't earn than I am working hard for none. There's pride at stake. If I didn't care about the quality of experience that the customers have, then why would I be working 6 days a week in the hospitality industry?
So anyways, I've pretty much decided that, if things don't improve soon with respect to equal distribution of tips (and by equal, I mean with the rest of the crew as well), then I'll have to leave the company. Without tips, I'm earning just $11 per hour, which is ridiculous when you figure that I'm making at least twice that with all my other jobs, plus the experience and education that I bring to the job.
Rant complete.

Firsts

Since moving to the Monterey Peninsula, I've had several interesting "first" experiences. These include:

-learning to identify a whale by it's smell
-commuting to work on a bike
-getting two pay raises in one day
-attending a wedding shower
-seeing a humpback breach
-scuba diving under an historical wharf
-sharing a house with not one, but two prostitutes
-capsizing a sea kayak
-collecting golf balls in the pitch-black bottom of a lake
-seeing transient Orcas attack a Gray Whale

I'm sure there are others but, regardless, I feel satisfied with the progress I've made towards being able to say, upon my deathbed, that I've led "An Interesting Life".

Mistakes made and unmade

Well, I guess there's some truth to the old saying that some things are too good to be true. The situation at my apartment has gotten so far out of hand that I've finally had to acknowledge the fact that I have to leave it. The apartment itself is perfect for me: small, cozy, full of light and windows, and ridiculously close to the ocean. It's the people in the house that have made the situation unbearable. I could go into high detail (and I have, with several unsuspecting friends whom I victimized with my tales of woe), but here are just a few of the "highlights" of living here:

-my roommate, Alan, is a gay man-whore. He offers "adult massages" to a strictly male clientele (unless, of course, they choose to bring along their spouses). This happens in my apartment when I'm not home. Despite his cash-only inflow, he has yet to pay rent since I moved in 5 months ago.

-my neighbor (who lives in the other separate unit next door) also apparently services men. It's funny because when I first met her, I nicknamed her "CrackHo". Apparently, she also dabbles in drug sales from time to time.

-my landlord, who lives upstairs, appears initially to simply be ignorant of all that is going on around him. However, I now have reason to suspect that he is not only aware of the situation, but is somehow involved in it. Whether he takes a cut, or is a client himself, is anyone's guess.

How did I get involved with these people?! So much for using Craigslist to find a place to live...
And now, the good news: I've found a new home! This time with a seemingly (I'm proceeding with caution now!) sweet 79 year-young Russian lady. She is offering a furnished bedroom, separate living room and dining room, shared kitchen, laundry room, garage storage (perfect for dive gear), and a huge back yard. While I will be paying her rent each month, she has offered to reduce it provided that I help her take care of errands for a few hours per week. She recently lost the use of one eye due to a minor stroke, and so now (honorably, I think) has elected to give up her driver's license. Thus, she would like someone to be available to drive her for things like shopping, appointments, etc. It sounds like a perfect arrangement!
And as for work, things have fortunately gotten quite busy of late. For the last four days, we have been able to watch Orcas on the Princess Monterey whale watching boat. It's been amazing! On the day before yesterday, we watched for a couple of hours while two pods of Orcas (each led by a patriarch bull) led a coordinated and brutal attack on a gray whale calf. At times it was heart-breaking to watch as the mother gray whale desperately struggled to keep her young calf from being battered, bitten, and drowned by the relentless Orcas. Mostly though, it was absolutely captivating. I've never before seen such highly orchestrated behavior in the pursuit of prey, and I feel so incredibly fortunate to witness a spectacle which I never thought I'd be lucky enough to see. To top it all off, there were also Humpback whales involved. For reasons unclear, they (starting with two, and building up to six or more) were placing themselves right in the thick of the brutal action. Some of the customers onboard stated their belief that the Humpbacks (which generally do not associate with either Orcas nor Gray Whales) were somehow trying to protect the young calf by shielding it with their enormous sleek bodies. If that's the case though, I can see no logical reason for the Humpbacks to do so. Furthermore, Captain Leon (who has been out here for nearly 30 years) has never seen such interaction between all three species, and in fact when he called everyone he knew with more experience than he had, they had never seen nor even heard of such behavior! Fantastic!
And so anyhow, things are basically going quite well. I've come to be in high demand with all of my jobs, and it's an honor to be so. Tomorrow, I work as a divemaster on a scuba dive boat in the morning, then guide four customers during shore dives in the afternoon. As I always say, It's better to be busy than bored!

4 months and 7 jobs later...

I haven't written in awhile because I haven't felt the creative urge to do so. Nevertheless, enough interesting occurrences have...um...occurred since moving here to the Monterey Peninsula that I feel an update is warranted. For starters, I have 7 jobs. Yep, that's right, seven. They include:
-deckhand on whale-watching vessel
-scuba beach-dive guide
-divemaster/safety diver aboard two different dive boats
-underwater boat repair and maintenance
-underwater dock repair for a sailboat rental shop
-general laborer at an inn

It's really satisfying to be able to show up to a place where I had no contacts, and within a few months be up to working 6 days per week (it would be 7, but I had to draw the line somewhere). Furthermore, I've decided to trim my trip to Germany down significantly, from 7 weeks to just two and a half, so that I a) don't miss out on the busiest months of the year and, b) don't burn any bridges by leaving employers sans Luke for nearly two months. Although I've had to cut out a huge portion of the trip (including stops in Slovenia, Croatia, and Hungary), I will console myself by planning a trip to south America (Machu Pichu, anyone?) next winter when work slows down enough that I won't be missed much for a couple of months.
And on a more personal note, I've also got a lot of great potential with Jennifer to look forward to.
So all in all, I'm happy. And satisfied. A great combination!

Lesson learned...again!

I like to think of the ocean as the mother of all mothers. She'll cradle you to sleep, introduce you to dazzling new experiences, and impart upon you a form of wisdom which she is uniquely suited to share.
She will also smack you in the mouth for disprespecting her!
Whenever I go for a long period of time without any unplanned surprises from the ocean, I get to thinking that I've finally figured her out. As soon as that happens she will, without fail, remind me to mind my manners when in her presence.
I had planned to go kayaking in Carmel this morning, with a guy that I met playing pick-up soccer on the weekends. Uli has some open water experience but, being born and raised in Germany, is perhaps not as familiar with the Pacific ocean as I (supposedly) am.
When we arrived at Carmel beach, I took my customary five minutes to watch the waves and judge the mood of the sea. I saw that conditions were much rougher than I'd expected and yet, both stubbornly and stupidly, I decided that a surf entry was "doable". Maybe it was, but not by me.
Uli and I managed to get over (or through) the first breaking wave, but that was the extent of our success. The second one gobbled us up, chewed for a moment, and spat us out in disgust. I don't blame the sea for being disappointed with us, because we really shouldn't have been there in the first place. As part of this lesson in humility, we both lost our diving masks. I consider it a fair price though, because we were spared injury to all but our pride.
In the end, I decided to thank her for the relatively painless lesson and show that there were no hard feelings by settling for a bit of body surfing. It was cold, but nevertheless wonderful.
Lesson learned!

Got Work?

At last count, I had 6 different jobs. The funny thing about it is that I'm STILL not working full-time. It's okay though because I'm just trying to get through the slow winter season with the understanding that dive work will pick up significantly in February and March. By summertime, I'm told that there's as much divemaster work as you can handle. I'm looking forward to that!
Here are the current jobs that I have (all of which are on an as-needed basis):

-deckhanding on a whale-watching boat
-underwater maintenance of boats, moorings, etc. in the harbor
-Divemaster beach-dive guide
-Divemaster on one dive boat (soon to be two)
-general laborer for a local innkeeper
-I helped a family move garbage (more or less literally) from one storage unit to another yesterday, with the understanding that they'll want to do it again soon

It's nice to have such a diversity of work. Ultimately, I'm intending to go full-time with the beach-dive guide and boat DM work because a) it pays up to 5 times what any of the other jobs pay, b) I can schedule the dives however I want and, c) it's fun! After all, the main reason I moved to the Monterey Peninsula is to have access the the incredible array of dive sites here.
I've also started playing on a weekly volleyball team in Monterey, which is a nice evening to look forward to each week.