I thought I'd deviate from my typical blog style and post about a topic a little closer to home... reading!

I have been an avid reader from as far back as I can remember.  My mom would take us to the public library in the summers and we'd sign up for reading clubs.  Oh, the joy of coming home with an armful of books!  I think the librarian, and even my mom on some occasions, would think I was overly ambitious with the height of the stack of books I'd want to check out at one time.  But I could not be deterred.  I would read until my eyes were red and burning, but I just couldn't stop.  I'd read Nancy Drew by the light of a flashlight with the covers pulled over my head long after bed time.   No matter the type of book, I was addicted to the feeling of being transported to another world.  My own life was perfectly fine, but the glimpse into one other than my own was a guilty little pleasure in which I loved to indulge.

In my mid-20s, I got the inkling that I may want to go to college.  The Navy broadened my horizons in too many ways to articulate, but the yearning for an education was certainly one of them.  I had never really been exposed to higher learning and what obtaining a college education would entail.  On a commercial flight one day, I pulled an airline magazine from the seat pocket and was flipping through the retail items when a subscription to a book club listing the "100 greatest books of all time" caught my eye.  Of course I couldn't afford to opt into such a subscription, but I tore out that page listing the 100 greatest books and decided I would start preparing myself for college.  I don't know why, but in my naive mind, a college education was synonymous with a literature degree!  So I decided right then and there to start reading those classics so that I would have a head start on college when the time came.  It makes me chuckle now to think how misguided my perception of college was!

Several degrees later and what seems like a lifetime of experiences, I've come to appreciate that reading those classic books may not have really prepared me for university, but it certainly helped to round out my outlook of the world.  I still love to read and have abstained from cable TV subscriptions for most of my adult life in favor of written words. Although my preference is usually for "real life" stuff, I occasionally partake in fiction of various varieties.  I tend to be turned off by books, movies, workouts, diets, trends, etc. that enjoy mass buy-in (I don't like being a follower!), but recently, the story line of the Hunger Games intrigued me enough to go out and buy the book.  I'm about halfway through it and have not been disappointed by my concession to pop culture yet.

Just as some people can recall a particular smell or scene associated with a journey, I'm able to look back on most long trips throughout my life and recollect the book I was reading throughout the journey.  During my frequent deployments to Crete, Greece in my Navy days, I read the Odyssey by Homer; one of the first books on the 100 classic books list I conquered!  I could relate to the epic journey of Odysseus while experiencing the culture and geography first hand.  Even with several years of living away from home under my belt, I felt connected to the hero's drive to get back home to hearth and family.  My paperback edition of this classic read is marked up with meanings of words I didn't know; definitions scribbled in the margins was the start of my "higher" education.  It was during the exploration of this book that I began to understand the shortcomings of my own vocabulary and refinement.  Only by exposing yourself to foreign concepts and opposing views can you truly formulate an informed opinion.  Another Greek culture inspired book that resonated with me during that time in my life was Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis.  The dichotomy of the live-life-like-there's-no-tomorrow Alexis Zorba and the introspective Basil seemed to speak to the opposing ends of the spectrum of my own personality. 

The association of books and journeys stand out in my mind as much as the food and culture of each.  It was during my travels surrounding the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens Greece that I tackled the daunting tome of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy.  The epic European vacation I took with Andy and Alexis in 2006 is forever marked by the strength of the heroine in the fictional biography of Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund.  From a single sentence mention of the wife of the the legendary hero in Moby Dick, the author weaved an intriguing story of feminine strength for this novel.  While living in Coronado, I read Combat Corpsman by Greg McPartlin. The story was the true life account of the Vietnam experience of the owner of a popular local dining establishment called McPs Pub two blocks from my apartment.  The memorabilia and stories filling the restaurant had added meaning once coupled with the back story provided in the book.  Driving home last Christmas, I listened to the audio version of Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.  I found myself so engrossed in the eerily relevant story line the I actually postponed needed gas and bathroom stops in order to finish a chapter or extended dialogue.  I may not be able to share insight into the latest episode of American Idol or Dancing with the Stars, but I can certainly grasp the significance of the question "Who is John Galt"!

My hope is that this blog post will inspire you to shut off the boob tube for a couple extra hours a night and indulge in a good book.  No matter your genre preference, there's something for everyone out there! 

Out and about locally

Riding the Sandhills

My life has been revolving around work and the weather lately.  The weather has been beautifully warm during the week but then getting cooler and/or overcast on the weekends.  I'm not complaining too much about the good weather during the week though because we managed to get in a textbook perfect jumping day last week.  A flawless exit, accurate canopy navigation and a soft, clear landing made me a happy jumper last week.  It's amazing how an afternoon away from paperwork participating in a "real" Army event can put everything back in perspective!

Continuing on my windblown escapades, the short deviation from the pattern of cool and overcast conditions yesterday morning provided a perfect opportunity to soak in the 80 degree weather and roll out some miles.  Clear skies and roads didn't last much longer than early afternoon, but it was enough to refresh my spirit and clear my mind.  Therapy on two wheels for $3.90 a gallon is a steal in my book!

Even though the weather has fluctuated between winter and spring the last few weeks, mother nature is clearly leaning towards the downhill slide to summer.  Dogwoods, azaleas and numerous other blooming plants that I don't know the names of have provided an explosion of color to my daily commute, rides and walks.  Although I didn't get a good picture of any to post today, the brilliant red and fuscia pink shades of azaleas around here remind me of my Mama (Grandmother) Daigle's front yard growing up.  She had a green thumb like no other making her yard a sight to behold during any season. It may not be Louisiana but I'm fortunate to live in a quaint, historic downtown district where homeowners take great pride in their landscaping.  There's one particular house down the street whose yard is always immaculately manicured, and right now it's a sea of tulips!  The first time I can remember acknowledging a tulip was on a two week detachment to Iceland during my Air National Guard days.  Although there was still snow on the ground, there was no denying the coming of spring as red and yellow tulips pushed their way through the slush in their pursuit of sunlight.  For some reason, those colors and flowers have stuck in my mind over the years.

Airborne & Special Operations Museum lobby

Since the weather today wasn't as bright and warm as I prefer for outdoor adventures, I decided to make another trip to the Airborne & Special Operations Museum.  Just as I've visited the Naval Aviation Museum dozens of times while stationed and visiting Pensacola over the years, I've taken many outings to the ASOM since being stationed at Fort Bragg.  With temporary exhibits rotating through on a regular basis, there's always something new to take in.  I used to roll my eyes and bemoan history classes during high school, but now that I'm old enough to have lived through some of the events now depicted as "history", it's suddenly much more interesting!

With the opening of the North Carolina Veterans Park last year right across the parking lot from the ASOM, there's a ton of things to see in the two landmarks.  The 15 foot "Iron Mike" statue posted out front of the museum  symbolizes the World War II era paratrooper and represents all Paratroopers who have come through Fort Bragg.  The overcast sky today didn't provide good contrasting for my outdoor pictures, but I'll try again another day.

Like everyone reading this blog, I'm gearing up for another busy week.  I hope everyone has a fulfilling week waiting for them!

Nothing new to report :-(

So, my past experience has been that maintaining a blog has made me really look around to find interesting events in my life to post about.  But, it's been 3 weeks and I still find myself struggling to come up with something witty or fascinating to weave a story around.  To be honest, my life over the last several weeks has been pretty mundane.  The weather has been fickle lately, so it's been hit or miss in regards to participating in some of my favorite past-times.  I went to the shooting range once and shot sporting clays, rode my Harley once and sat out a DZ once waiting on a jump that never happened due to high winds since I've last posted. No cool pics or intriguing stories to tell unfortunately.

But I guess that's life, right?  I've been absorbed in my daily routine of endless administrative tasks at work, morning workouts and rehab at the gym, reading or studying in the evenings, and enjoying the occasional lunch or dinner with friends.  But I don't mind really.  I'm comfortable with my life; the predictable right along with the exciting.  So although I have nothing stimulating to relay today, all is well :-)      

Airborne...finally!

It's been a couple of weeks since I've posted.  This lag in updates is due to a busy schedule and lackluster occurrences.  My work presents many challenges, but my administrative victories don't really make for exciting posts.  So, filling you in on two packed days of meetings in the DC area isn't very noteworthy, except that I got to collaborate with a great colleague and friend during those meetings (thanks Rob!).  I will, however mention that I got to catch up with a grad school friend as well as a former Commanding Officer from my Navy days during my two days to the north.  It never ceases to amaze me how small and intertwined our worlds are.  A fellow classmate from my masters program and internship at FSU is also in the Army.  Although our official job titles in the military are the same, our professional focus' couldn't be more different.  I take great personal satisfaction in the fact that my life experiences have been anything but traditional.  I don't belittle traditional roles, I simply choose not to follow them.  So when I come into contact with people from my past who have taken the traditional path, I am appreciative, yet befuddled by their choices.  I understand the necessity of following well-established roles in order to progress in well-established institutions, I just can't internalize settling on those necessities.  Of course I say this with full acknowledgment that I will do what I have to do to survive and succeed, I'm just thankful that I've not had to accept "settling" just yet.  I'll elaborate on that "non-traditional" theme by giving kudos to my former Navy CO Rob (I mean no disrespect by calling my former Skipper by his first name, I don't use last names on this blog due to privacy concerns).  For some unknown reason, I've been blessed with mentors throughout my life who have gone above and beyond to ensure that wayward souls like myself are provided with sound guidance and advice.  Rob is one of those mentors in my life and played a pivotal role in my decision to leave the Navy in pursuit of a college education.  I always enjoy our short encounters whenever our schedules allow it.

There's no modesty during the rigging process.

Once back from my meetings in DC and back at Fort Bragg, I resumed my professional and military duties.  During a sub-30 degree morning, I showed up to a military DZ (drop zone) once again hoping to exit an aircraft.  Even while wearing enough snivel gear to add a couple of pounds to my body weight yet still shivering, I found myself standing around the DZ in an upbeat, optimistic mood.  We went through all the steps previously described in my last post about my failed jump attempt, then hung out anticipating the arrival of the aircraft that would deliver us to an altitude worthy of making a parachute jump.  The vapor formed by our words and breath hung in the cold air while we kept our bodies in continuous motion in an effort to keep warm.  Shifting weight quickly from one foot to another and rubbing gloved hands together in an attempt to generate heat, seasoned and newbie jumpers alike recounted memories of previous jumps and aircraft antics as we waited for the inevitably delayed aircraft.  It was a crystal clear, frigid morning and everyone was ready to GO!

Seasoned jumpers ensure safe jumps for us novices.

Military static line jumps are a well-orchestrated event steeped in tradition.  After going through the pre-jump training, we help each other to rig up and go through inspections to verify our gear and preparations are sufficient to carry us to safe landings.  The guys who have executed dozens of jumps look out for us novices by double and triple checking our rigs.  Each man is the other man's  keeper; a bad jump by one is a bad jump by all.

One of the easiest exits around; a CASA 212. I'm 7th from the left.

Due to my hip surgery, it had been several months since I jumped.  Since normalcy is relative, jumping every month makes the act of exiting an aircraft seem routine.  The lapse of those continuous months, however, allowed the butterflies to flutter back in to my stomach ever so slightly.  The smell of turboprop exhaust and the feel of specks of debris in the prop wash while walking up to a turning aircraft always stirs familiar visceral memories of my Navy aircrew days.  Being rigged up in a parachute and reserve chute however, adds a wave of novel excitement and nervousness to those established aircraft memories. Once seated in the aircraft climbing to a safe parachuting altitude, each Paratrooper goes into his own thought process in preparation for a sound exit.  With only a dozen military static line jumps under my belt, I can't really say that I have an established mental routine down yet.  My thoughts oscillate between procedure checklists and just being in the moment of such a unique experience.  I look to my left and right and feel a solid camaraderie with these uniformed jumpers.

Nice exits.

As the ramp opens like a slow yawn to reveal the changing landscape of earth at a little over 1000 feet, I can't help but to feel proud, nervous, privileged, excited and determined all at the same time.  I've heard of cases of "jump refusals", but down in my soul I just cannot comprehend that concept.  I'm rigged up, trained and ready to exit this aircraft; the thought of doing anything other than that really never enters my brain.  "One minute!"..."30 seconds!"... "GO!"..."GO!"..."GO!"...  We shuffle in single-file line toward the ramp with static line in hand careful not to crowd the jumper to the front us.  As the jumpmaster looks each one of us in the eye at one-second intervals, points his hand in our direction and yells "GO!", we take the 4-5 steps down the open ramp into an abyss of exposed space and start counting "One Thousand", "Two Thousand", "Three Thousand"...  Somewhere between three-thousand and six-thousand, the familiar feeling of a tug followed by suspension in space tells me that my chute has opened and the need to deploy my reserve chute and emergency procedures will not be needed today.  It all happens so quickly that my focused mind doesn't really register a falling sensation before the chute is pulled from the pack.  I look up at a beautifully round, inflated canopy silhouetted by a cold, frigid sky; less than 10 seconds has elapsed.  I smile and let out a sigh of relief that I executed a sound exit, causing not even a single twist in my risers, and now am only faced with determining wind direction and navigating myself to a safe landing.

I pull on the right and left toggles sequentially to determine that I have gained canopy control, then look below me to orient myself to the drop zone.  Although minimal, I run with the wind to position myself as close to the equipment turn-in point as possible.  I suddenly remember that this is the first real test of my surgically repaired hip and search for the softest landing spot possible.  Usually I steer away from soggy, wet patches of land, but this time I aim for the scar of low-lying ground running the length of the drop zone.  Soggy means soft and cushiony, exactly what I need to ensure a forgiving landing.  At the edge of the bog and at the last minute, I turn into the wind to slow my descent.  I fall a little further and feel the balls of my feet touch the ground.  The lack of wind caused me to lose any momentum from which to execute a side PLF (Parachute Landing Fundamentals) and I found myself crumpling straight down over my boots.  I managed to throw my right hip out to avoid a direct spinal impact landing and made contact with the ground just sightly right of center.  The landing was gentle and the distinct lack of wind caused my chute to come down directly on top of me.  I pushed the chute over as it deflated into a mound of nylon right next to me, then disconnected my reserve chute and all harness straps.  I layed there on my back for just a minute gazing up at the crystal clear sky above me grinning like a fool.  Another jump from which I would walk away; another life experience added to my collection to give me confidence.  What a charmed life I lead!

Nothing but a thankful day can happen after such an enchanted morning like I had just experienced.  I was back at my office answering emails by 10:30 a.m.  Other than the random grains of red dirt lingering from my morning of Airborne Ops falling from my scalp onto my keyboard, my day progressed as any other administrative personnel's would.  These sporadic moments of extraordinary help to balance out my otherwise uneventful existence.

Even if jumping out of airplanes does not appeal to you, look for those extraordinary moments that are surely veiled in your own life.  Although disguised as everyday events, open your mind to the remarkable occurrences masquerading as a child's laugh, a stranger's heartfelt handshake or just a loved one's hug.  They're all around and all you need to appreciate them is to allow yourself a moment to acknowledge them.

Running & Jumping...kinda

Whew, a full first full week back at work after being off the electronic grid for my vacation.  I barely made a dent in the hundreds of emails I received during my absence, but I feel like I at least handled the most pressing issues.  For someone with such a Type A personality, it's hard for me to accept that I just can't get everything done.  I'm very good at prioritizing, but I'm not so good at accepting that the lower priority things just may not get done.  At any rate, my disposition at work was much improved by my time away at the beach.

Two long-awaited events happened this week.  Well actually, attempts at two long-awaited events occurred this week.  The first was running.  I'm about five months post arthroscopic hip surgery and was finally cleared by my Physical Therapist to make an attempt at running.  I'm using the term "running" quite loosely since what I was actually allowed to do was a jog/shuffle for a quarter mile.  Hey, I'll take what I can get!  The short little jog felt good, but I have a long way to go with lateral movements and just overall strength in the affected hip.  My PT begrudgingly gave me the OK to resume Airborne Ops.  Um, truth be told he only said OK because he knew I'd probably do it anyway.  Let me just interject at this point in the story that I have been a very compliant patient throughout my rehab; and those of you that have known me for any length of time would agree that the word compliant is not often used to describe me!  When in an Airborne unit, you are required to jump once a quarter in order to stay proficient.  I love to jump, so before my surgery I was trying to jump once a month when my work schedule would allow it.  If you go longer than 6 months without jumping however, you're required to go through refresher training and you start to lose jump pay (which is referred to as being a Pay Loss).  I had to chuckle out loud when I received an email from the command Air NCOIC (Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge of Airborne Operations) that stated "you must exit an aircraft by the end of the month."  Have I mentioned lately how much I love my job?! 

So, on Thursday, I went out to the drop zone and figured I'd see how I felt on pre-jump training and then make a decision if I was ready to jump or not.  Before every jump, we do sustainment training.  After final manifest has been done, everyone is assigned to a chalk or stick (line-up of personnel who will exit the aircraft on the same pass) and are checked for ID card, dog tags and combat helmet integrity.  From there, the five points of performance are reviewed.  We actually all repeat and physically mimic the movements for each:
1.  Proper exit, check body position and count.  Gravity always works but if you don't exit the aircraft correctly and maintain the proper body position, it can be a pretty violent, twisting and confusing ride down.  If you don't feel an opening shock after counting out 6 seconds, it's time to deploy the reserve parachute.  At this time we also review what to do if your static line doesn't deploy properly or your equipment gets hung up on the aircraft and you become a "towed jumper."
2.  Check canopy and immediately gain canopy control.  After the initial relief to feel the rate of your fall slowed by something opening over your head, you still have to look up at the chute and make sure that it fully deployed and doesn't have any malfunctions.  During this part of the sustainment training, we review several types of malfunctions and what to do for each.
3.  Keep a sharp lookout for other jumpers during your entire descent.  This sounds like a no-brainer, but you'd be surprised.  We follow each other out the aircraft at roughly one-second intervals which is enough space for us to gain control of our movements, but at varying body/equipment weights, everyone falls at different rates which can put folks on collision courses with each other if they aren't paying attention to the winds and maintaining situational awareness of the whereabouts of the other jumpers.
4.  Prepare to land.  This involves steering and proper body position. Although not as maneuverable as a free fall parachute, the round canopy chutes we use for static jumps do have some steerability.  Beyond the obvious avoidance of trees, power lines, ponds and various other obstacles, you need to be facing into the wind when you land to facilitate a safe landing.  As you get more experience, you're also trying to steer yourself to land as close to the equipment drop off point as you can to minimize the distance you have to hump all your gear in :-)
5.  Land.  Not having your feet and knees together and having your arms/hands too far away from your body when you hit the ground can result in broken bones or soft tissue damage.  We actually jump off a raised platform multiple times before every jump to practice PLFs (Parachute Landing Fundamentals) as a refresher.

After reviewing the 5 points of performance, we perform mockup training.  We go through emergency aircraft procedures and run through the jump sequence and exit inside of a wingless fuselage complete with jump seats, doors and a ramp.  Once mockup training is complete, you draw a parachute and reserve chute, then help each other rig up.  After you're rigged up, a Jump Master performs a JMPI on you (Jump Master Personnel Inspection) and you pretty much just hang out and wait for the aircraft to pick up your chalk.  Well, on Thursday we never actually made it to the point of drawing chutes because of a weather delay.  After the weather cleared up and much waiting, the aircraft never showed so we dispersed late in the afternoon without actually getting to exit an aircraft.  Anti-climactic; I know.  Although very disappointed that I didn't get to jump, hanging out in a big open field in relatively nice weather with like-minded individuals sharing stories and experiences isn't a  bad way to spend a day away from the office.

Sally and Karen at Joe's Crab Shack

Another highlight of my week was catching up with a friend from my USOC days.  Although I knew Sally as a resident wrestler back at the Olympic Training Center, we now both have taken career paths that put us in an Army uniform.  She was in town for some training and we managed to align our schedules long enough to have dinner together.  She looks great, seems happy and is still full of positive Sally spirit!!  So glad that we were able to connect and catch up- I hope our paths will cross again soon.

I have some work stuff to catch up on this weekend, but I'm planning on taking a leisurely pace to accomplish it.  Hope everyone else had a great week too.

Dominican Republic vacation wrap-up

Christi and Monica poolside

Monica and Christi were great travel partners for this luxury vacation!  Although the three of us spent most of our time together, it wasn't out of obligation.  I learned a long time ago that not only do you and your travel companions need to agree on the goal of the journey, you also have to genuinely enjoy each others' company.  With the objective of a relaxing, lounge around on the beach and at the pool kind of vacation already established before departure, it was pretty easy to all just hang out without feeling the need to entertain each other.  For the most part, we all got hungry around the same time (I'll explain my decreased appetite shortly) and seemed to synchronize our need to come in out of the sun.  I lucked out and picked up a really good book at the airport that carried me through the week of lounging in the sun while Christi came armed with several books and magazines. The relaxing powers of the sun on our skin actually made the presence of reading material trivial.  Unfortunately, if you chose the wrong section of the beach or the pool designated as the "party" pool for that day, your quiet lounging time of reading evaporated with the over-amplified voice of a party emcee.

Monica and Christi getting pedicures

Of course, one of the major draws of this vacation for my travel companions was the spa.  Included with our vacation package was $1500 of credits to be applied on various amenities throughout the resort.  This is the part where I get to my lack of enthusiasm about the all-inclusive vacation.  That $1500 is arbitrarily distributed amongst various activities. Only $300 could be applied toward the spa, the remaining $1200 could only go towards golf, four preselected "excursions" (which of course did not include scuba diving), or upgrades of wine.  Let me remind you at this point, that alcohol is included in the "all inclusive" package.  What that really means is that mediocre supermarket wine and liquors are included (ironically, everywhere but the night club!).  In order to have a nice bottle of wine with dinner (or drinks at the night club), you have to use the $1500 worth of credits.  As an example, a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz (a supermarket Australian brand wine) would set you back $100 of credits.  For those of you who don't pay much attention to wine brands, you can get a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz at your local grocery store in the U.S. for $15.  A nice enough wine, but certainly not a $100 bottle of wine.  Monica and Christi easily exceeded their $300 room limit for the spa (I donated my portion of the $300 to them).  We each got a free manicure, pedicure and back massage though since we were using the room of a "member", so yes, I had painted (neutral) toenails and fingernails for a couple of days!

Post dive celebratory Brahma beer :-)

Although not included, I opted for an activity of my own...a day of scuba diving!  Dressel Divers took a van load of folks from the Punta Cana resorts two hours southwest to the National Park.  From there we took a boat to Cacon dive site and enjoyed sightseeing the coral reef off the coast of Saona island at approx. 40 feet.  From there, we waited out our surface interval by hanging out and eating BBQ on the island.  As part of a protected National Park, the island is pristine and has no construction (other than a few thatched covered open structures).  After lunch settled, we did our second dive at El Penon, this time viewing the coral reefs from a depth of approx. 60 feet.  For both dives, the water temp was 78 degrees F with visibility ranging from 50 to 65 feet.  We saw moray eel, crabs, sting rays, various species of fish (lionfish, cherubfish) and different colors of brain and fan coral.  I'd love to post some photos for you, but the dive shop wouldn't let me purchase a disposable underwater camera before boarding the boat since there were videos of the dive made available for $80.  Note to self, don't forget to purchase your own underwater camera before you leave the States!  Oh, and that $9 bottle of sunscreen you didn't pack so you wouldn't have to check a bag at the airport now costs you $32 at the resort "store"!  Suddenly, that airline baggage fee is looking like a deal! 

Coastline of Saona Island

Lack of underwater photos notwithstanding, the day was a blast!  As a single diver in a sport where having a buddy is required, I've been paired up with quite the array of dive partners over the years.  I lucked out on this trip and paired up with a guy named Mike who also happened to be east coast Army (figure the odds!).  His wife opted for a full day at the spa, so he was more than happy to pair up with me for the underwater sightseeing.  He was a great dive buddy (i.e. safe, attentive and fun) and added to my enjoyment of the whole day.  I would post a pic of us together, but I forgot to ask him if he'd be OK with me posting a pic so I don't want to invade his privacy online.  

Dive cooler of Brahma beer, rum and coke!

After the last dive, lots of boats full of divers and snorkelers converged on a shallow sandbar area just off the coastline of the island to hang out and tell stories about all we'd seen.  Of course, the cooler full of beer, rum and coke added to the embellishment of those stories!  There's no doubt, the day of diving was one of the highlights of my vacation.

Let me back up and fill you in on something I mentioned in the first vacation post- my lack of appetite.  For those of you who know me, I am in a constant state of hunger.  Certainly not in a literal starving-to-death kind of way, but in a "yep, I could go for a snack right now" kind of way.  Before departing on this vacation, I had readied myself for the inevitable weight gain that was sure to come with having unlimited access to gourmet food for a week.  Well, just like with the mediocre alcohol, the lackluster array of ordinary tasting food did not entice my appetite.  This lack of exceptional food was probably my biggest disappointment of the trip.  The one shining standout however, was my birthday dinner at the Brazilian Steakhouse.

Birthday dinner at Brazilian Steakhouse

City sites

On the night before departing the resort, the one remaining restaurant for us to try was the Brazilian Steakhouse.  So, we got all dressed up and walked on over.  To our pleasant surprise, the food was quite good as was the service.  We mentioned to our server Luddy that we were celebrating my birthday and she took it upon herself to make it a memorable event.  Christi and Monica had somehow acquired a tiara for me to where for the occasion and Luddy produced a very chocolaty cake!  Before we knew it, a whole crew of performers came out and serenaded me with an unidentifiable, though quite melodious version of "Happy Birthday"! Since there was no candle on the cake, Luddy produced a lighter for me to blow out!!  At the end of the celebration, we were finally introduced to the elusive Dominican drink we'd heard about all week- Mama Juana!  It's made with rum that's been infused with sticks, leaves and roots of various trees and plants native to the Dominican Republic.  This rum is mixed with red wine, honey and various other ingredients based on the personal preference of the person mixing the drink.  The version we had was very smooth, which we were told was attributed to the dash of ammareto added to it.  


Lest I sound oblivious to the challenges being faced by the population on the island of Hispaniola, let me acknowledge what was on the back of my mind throughout this vacation.  The personal income of the two counties that cohabitate this island, Haiti and the Dominican Republic, have annual per capita incomes of $1300 and $8200 respectively.  It was only 2 years ago (to the date that I arrived in Dom Rep) that Haiti experienced a 7.0 magnitude earthquake that killed 220,000 people and injured another 300,000.  As of a few months ago, 6000 people have died of a cholera outbreak there and another 200,000+ have been infected.  This has, and is happening, roughly 300 miles from where we vacationed.  So however disappointed I may have been in the "all-inclusive" experience, I absolutely recognize that the world is not a fair place and that I have benefited immensely from that lack of fairness.  It is not "fair" that I was born in a country whose per capita income is roughly $40,000 instead of $1300.  It is not "fair" that I have access to clean drinking water 24/7.  It is not "fair" that I have ready access to drugs that keep me from contracting malaria when I vacation in countries whose preventive medicine standards pale in comparison to those of the country to which I was fortunate enough to be born.  So to avoid sounding like a spoiled princess disappointed in the amenities of my vacation, let me just state for the record that I fully recognize how fortunate I am to have the ability and means to take this type of vacation.  I immensely enjoyed the time I spent with Monica and Christi and felt the trip was well worth taking.  I'll probably just skip the "all-inclusive" part next time :-) 

Hope you enjoyed my wrap-up.  Not sure what's awaiting me over the next week or so, but I'll certainly try to find something interesting to share. 

Girls' Week Birthday Bash

Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

I won't even apologize for taking more than a week to post again since I have the perfect excuse...I was out of the country!  For the first time in more years than I care to admit, I didn't touch a computer, cell phone or TV for seven glorious days.  For my birthday weekend, Monica and Christi accompanied me to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic for a girls' getaway.  Historically, I've been a backpacker type of traveler; I truly enjoy meeting other like-minded adventurous wanderers, learning the history of stops along my journey and especially dabbling in local cuisine and culinary customs.  As I get older however, I felt like it might be time to taste the life of a tourist in comparison to that of a traveler.  The difference between the two experiences is defined by logistics and, to some extent, mindset.  Though the differences are subtle, they can result in two completely different perspectives of the same event.  Other than traveling for business when I was with the USOC, the planning phase of my overseas travel typically consisted of booking a plane ticket with a rough idea of things I wanted to see and do during my time abroad.  No advance transportation, lodging or tours arranged; I'd really just wing it.  But this time, with the encouragement of my more "girlie" travel companions, I took the plunge and agreed to an all-inclusive resort experience where everything from transport from the airport to meals and drinks are arranged and paid for in advance.

Sunrise over beach and pool at Hard Rock Resort

There were certainly pros and cons to the "luxury" experience.  Since I'm still aglow with my bikini line suntan, I'll start off with the things I enjoyed.  As you can see from the beach pic, the scenery was spectacular.  This pic of the silhouetted palm trees between the beach and pool was taken at sunrise and captures the picturesque setting of the resort as a whole.  With 12 pools, there was always someplace to hang out if the wind was a little too breezy for the beach.  There were pools with swim up bars, pools with water parks for kids, pools dedicated to quiet for book lovers, pools with European sunbathing areas and even pools dedicated to spring break type antic, truly something for everyone.

View from room balcony

Our room was pretty decadent and included a two person whirlpool (which I referred to as my own private room pool!), fully stocked bar with fridge and an amazing view of the beach and pools right from the balcony.  With almost a dozen restaurants and delis, we only took advantage of the 24-hour room service a couple of times. Christi, however, did call room service to order scented pillows from the pillow menu :-)

Most days' temps were in the upper 70s/low 80s- perfect beach weather.  As non-gamblers, we just couldn't understand how anyone would trade in the beach/pool scene to sit in electronically lit rooms listening to bells and whistles and hoping that today was your day to be lucky (and not a fool).  To each his own I guess, so we decided to forgo our stint in the casino to make room for those lucky/foolish folks who felt the call to gambling. 

Sunrise squall

Most mornings, I'd awake before dawn and take in the sunrise.  One particular morning I walked down to the beach before dawn and witnessed an amazing storm roll through.  It only lasted for an hour or so, but the intensity of the squall was enough to keep everyone indoors for the duration.  I sat on a beach chair mesmerized by the gathering clouds and the advancing wall of rain.  By the time I could tear myself away from the unfolding scene, I had to run for cover to protect my camera from the downpour.  I've known all my life that of earth's elements, it's water that connects my soul to the world around me.  Chalk it up to being born and raised on a bayou, but there's no mountain or wooded area in the world, at least that I've encountered thus far, that is as life-affirming and awe-inspiring as that of moving water in nature.   It was a humbling sight to behold.

Christi, Monica and Karen at the beach

Now that I've introduced you to the scenery and benefits of the resort scene, the next post will be more about how we spent our days during the week.  I'll give you a hint:  I split off from Monica and Christi for a day for a chance to explore our differing tastes of vacation activities.  I'll also give you my wrap-up of the all-inclusive resort experience so stay tuned in you're interested!