Category Archives: Uncategorized

Mar19

What IS the Camino (and why am I doing this, anyway?)

Posted on March 19, 2022 by juliechilton

The Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James) is a large network of ancient pilgrim routes stretching across Europe and coming together at the tomb of St. James in Santiago de Compostela in north-west Spain. The most popular route is the Camino Francés which stretches 780 km (nearly 500 miles) from St. Jean-Pied-du-Port near Biarritz in France to Santiago. This route is fed by three major French routes and also joined along its route by routes from various places in Spain, Portugal, England and further away.

The network is similar to a river system – small brooks join together to make streams, and the streams join together to make rivers, most of which join together to make the Camino Francés. During the middle ages, people walked out of their front doors and started off to Santiago, which was how the network grew up.

Some people set out on the Camino for spiritual reasons; many others find spiritual reasons along the Way as they meet other pilgrims, attend pilgrim masses in churches and monasteries and cathedrals, and see the large infrastructure of buildings provided for pilgrims over many centuries.

The first I ever heard of the Camino was when I watched a movie with Martin Sheen called “The Way.” (“Camino” means, literally “way” or “road” in Spanish.) My sister-in-law recommended it. I was fascinated and intrigued and determined to someday “make the road” myself. It has been in the back of my mind ever since…and after I retired last year and my plans to go volunteer in Africa did not come to pass, I began to plan in earnest.

I decided to take the French Way (the most common and popular, with the best infrastructure.) And rather than worrying about hiking up and over the Pyrenees, I determined that I would start in Pamplona. I choose the beginning of April…when it was warming up, but still not really packed and crowded with pilgrims. Rather than follow the typical “stages” of walking (most of which were further than I wanted to walk in a day, anyway) i created my own itinerary with shorter days, for the most part. And contrary to what many pilgrims do, I booked almost every accommodation ahead of time.

Because the Camino connects towns and villages, there are plenty of places to stop and rest and plenty of people willing and able to help you on your journey. And…if I become truly exhausted (or my feet get too blistered) there is always the option of calling a taxi to take me into the next village. By my calculations, I will be walking about 432 miles in total…and I’ve given myself 38 days in which to do it.

I’ve been walking each day, and I splurged and purchased a new backpack. (I already had a couple I was considering, but one was a bit too small and one was a bit too big. So I now have the Goldilocks of backpacks.) There is an over-abundance of information and advice available for walking the Camino, but my best info came from a wonderful woman named Annie Carvalho who had both a Facebook page and a blog. She’s a little older than I am, has walked almost all the routes numerous times and was able to present practical, matter-of-fact advice and suggestions for almost every question.

As to the “why” I am doing this…well, I am not yet sure. Because I can – and because it’s there of course. But also because there is something very appealing about 6 weeks of simply getting up every morning and walking from one place to the next, with no other agenda or goal in mind. People walk for all sorts of reasons and everyone walks their own walk. I expect to be tired, achy and sore at the end of every day. I expect to meet all different kinds of people from many different places. I expect to walk in the rain and the sun and who knows what other kind of weather. And I expect – I hope – to embrace the journey and add a bit of blessedness to my life.

¡Buen Camino!

Mar18

Getting ready to walk the Camino…

Posted on March 18, 2022 by juliechilton

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I figured it was about time I reactivated my blog! Anyone out there? I’m going to be walking the Camino de Santiago starting on April 2. 432 miles from Pamplona to Santiago. I am both excited and terrified. I’ll be using this blog to post thoughts, pictures, experiences and imaginings. I hope you come along with me on the journey.

Sep21

It only takes a spark…

Posted on September 21, 2014 by juliechilton

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When I was growing up in Huntington, Long Island, New York, we were members of the Old First Presbyterian Church at 125 Main Street. The church was (and is) an imposing edifice, a historical building with a long history.

My father had been a stalwart Presbyterian since the age of 11 and the church was in his blood. My father was Clerk of Session, my mother sang in the choir, we all went to Sunday School, and when we were in High School, we all were part of TUXIS.

TUXIS was our church youth group. The name is less an acronym than a symbol – the “X” in the middle standing for Christ and the letters surrounding it meaning something like “You and I together for Training and Service with Christ as the Center.” It was old-fashioned even then – but to be honest, I don’t think most of us even thought about what the name meant. For about 20 years, from the late 1960s and through the 1980s, TUXIS was the place to be on Sunday evenings, from 7:00pm – 9:00pm – no matter what your religion, or even if you had a religion at all. It was our community.

This past October, Dr. Stan Dransfield, who had been the minister during most of my time at the church, passed away. One of his sons “discovered” Facebook, found a few former TUXIS members and proposed a reunion. Being a logistical sort of person, I volunteered to try to organize it. The response was overwhelming. And this past summer, about 40 former TUXIS members (and one former youth minister) gathered at the Old First Church to celebrate, to worship, to share community and to remember.

I had not been inside the church since my mother’s funeral in 1996…and then it was just briefly. So when I walked into the side door by the Parish Hall, the sense of memory was visceral and strong. The side door where we would wait for my father to talk to “just one more person” during coffee hour.

The smell of the wood floor of the Parish Hall, and the stage where we would put on our Sunday School plays. And the huge kitchen with the giant 8-burner stove and hundreds of plates and cups for church suppers.

The photographs of the previous ministers – all lined up along the wall along with the bulletin boards announcing paryer groups and various events. The old bell that had cracked while ringing one Sunday.

Behind the stage was the “Cradle Roll” for the babies and underneath the Parish Hall were the old Sunday School rooms and a tunnel that led to the “newer” part of the church – built in 1958. I have a vague recollection of them putting in the block with the dates when they built that addition.

The new addition was built with expansion of the Youth Program in mind – there was a full-size basketball court, another kitchen, various classrooms and a “TUXIS” room.

Up the main stairs, there was the choir room – still looking exactly the same with the robes hanging in their compartments and the shelves of choir music and folders.

The Sanctuary is the oldest part of the church – and at one time, it was the entire building. Not much has been altered. At some point, the seat cushions were added. A chandelier has been hung from the ceiling and, contrary to the traditional austere Presbyterian decor, a cross was installed over the altar about 10 years ago. I spent most of my time in the sanctuary in the choir loft, where I sang alto in the church choir. A beautiful new pipe-organ was installed in 1982 and the choir loft redesigned, just in time for my wedding. (The wedding was lovely, the marriage rather ill-fated…)

What was TUXIS and why was it so important? Well, it was a community. A community of young people from varying circumstances and belief systems, who were at various places in their spiritual journey. And it was a safe place to come and feel that you mattered. We were fortunate to have wonderful youth ministers who built that community, who listened to young people with great consideration and love and who showed us, by word and deed, what it meant to “be the hands and feet” of Christ. Many pictures were shared of those times. We had camping and beach trips, trips into New York City, work-sessions, presentations and performances, discussions, singing and dancing, tears and laughter.

We put on our own “Contemporary Worship Service” once a month, featuring more modern songs and our own singing group called “The Main Street Singers.” There was even a “Bible-a-thon” to raise money.

We had three youth ministers during “my” TUXIS time. Don Dempsey was hired at the beginning of my 9th grade year. There were so many of us that we had a separate group for the 9th grade called “Niners.” Don was 24, young, idealistic and rather a hippie. There were stories about him mowing a peace symbol into the front lawn of his house and an incident where the police were called to the manse, because the neighbors didn’t realize he had moved in yet and thought his gathering of TUXIS young people (complete with candles because the electric had not been turned on yet) was a bunch of hippie-weirdos. Turns out the stories were true – I got in touch with Don, who is still a Presbyterian minister and he had many memories. We all loved him, but he was summarily fired after 9 months. The session then hired Howard Warren. Howard was “my” TUXIS leader and my brother Doug’s as well.

He was a gentle man, in his mid-thirties, who seemed to know how to handle both the radical young people and the stuffy and staid members of the session. He had a way of leading us to the “right” decision without us feeling like we were being told what to do. After Howard left, we had Bill Humphries who came to us right out of seminary, with his very young wife, Cindy. Bill was youth minister for about 10 years, and was the TUXIS leader for my younger brothers Mike and Tom.

One very important person who could not attend was a woman name Suzie Viemeister, who was like the mother of us all. She came on every trip, was there every Sunday evening and her home was a place of refuge for a number of young people who had had a falling out with their parents and needed a place to crash. She is in her 80s now, but still spry and joyful.

When we all finally showed up at the church, there were many hugs, many remembrances and some tears. Howard – loved by so many of us – passed away from complications due to AIDS in 2003. Ironically, he turned out to be far more radical than Don Dempsey ever was. After he came out of the closet (“exploded out” as some say!) he became an outspoken advocate for inclusion of all in the church. The Presbytery tried to silence him ; they tried to take away his ministry (my father was furious at this) but Howard persevered and was known as “God’s Glorious Gadfly” for his unrelenting insistence that the Kingdom of Heaven was for everyone. (Read more about Howard HERE.)

Some of us had gathered for dinner the night before. Now we shared more food and memories and music and had a communal worship led by Bill Humphries.

We were then lucky enough to have a brief talk about the history of the church from John Collins, who was a member of TUXIS and is very much involved with the Huntington Historical Society. And…we got to climb up into the steeple, which, since the installation of the new organ, now involves a trap door over the choir room, a scramble above the ceiling of the sanctuary and then a rickety climb to the top. It was pretty awesome…I hadn’t been up there since I was a very little girl.

Everyone who attended the reunion was deeply moved by the gathering. And I was near tears when I was given a card, signed by everyone, thanking me for organizing the event. It was a wonderful way to recall a very important part of my life.

At the end of the worship service, people wanted to sing “Pass It On.” This is a cheesy song, with a cheesy tune and lyrics that don’t quite scan. But we all used to sing it with great gusto and I had a guitar and we all sang it again. I am not ashamed to say that I broke up a little when we got to the last verse. Thank you, dear Divine Spirit, for the fellowship of TUXIS.

It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
And soon all those around can warm up to its glowing;
That’s how it is with God’s Love,
Once you’ve experienced it,
Your spread the love to everyone
You want to pass it on.

What a wonderous time is spring,
When all the trees are budding
The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming;
That’s how it is with God’s love,
Once you’ve experienced it.
You want to sing, it’s fresh like spring,
You want to pass it on.

I wish for you my friend
This happiness that I’ve found;
You can depend on Him
It matters not where you’re bound,
I’ll shout it from the mountain top!
I want my world to know
The Lord of love has come to me
I want to pass it on.

Sep14

A Zambian Wedding!

Posted on September 14, 2014 by juliechilton

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Last weekend, I was privileged to be invited to the wedding of my housekeeper’s daughter. Weddings in Zambia tend to be very big deals – even among the lower-income people. People of means who are invited are expected to purchase a suitable gift – in fact, Mary asked me beforehand what gift I would get and how much it would cost! A traditional gift is cookware, or something for the kitchen and I got a very classy and serviceable casserole dish that could be put on the stove or in the oven and had a 15-year guarantee. Mary seemed pleased with my choice.

The first part of the wedding was a full mass in the Catholic Parish right down the road. Mary insisted that I sit up in front with her and the family and introduced me to everyone as “her friend.” I was the only non-Zambian there, not to mention the only white person. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming and shook my hand in the traditional Zambian way – a shake, then a grasp of the thumbs and then another shake. People filed into the church, dressed in their finest. As mother of the bride, Mary had had a beautiful outfit made for the ceremony. Her mother was also colorfully attired, and had a headdress to match. Most of the men were in western-style suits. There was a choir, complete with a drum set and two guitars. At first I thought their voices were amplified, but then I realized that they were singing along with a recording, which reverberated throughout the church.

The groom was escorted in and sat by himself in the front seat. He looked very handsome and very young. I asked Mary if she thought she would cry during the ceremony. “Oh…no, I don’t think so,” she said.

The music started and the acolytes, altar boys and priests all came down the aisle. They danced as they came – the music was loud and rhythmic and many of the congregation also danced and sang along.

The flower girls and boys came dancing down, and then the bridesmaids and groomsmen. The color scheme was green – all the dresses had been made locally. Everyone was smiling and dancing and singing and moving.

Finally, it was time for the bride to enter. The groom left his seat and went down the aisle to escort her to the altar. And suddenly, most incongruously, the African music stopped and there came the strains of Wagner’s wedding march, played on the organ! The bride was demure and shy and dressed in a frothy white wedding dress complete with a veil. It was hard to get any pictures, because as they walked down the aisle, almost everyone was standing in front and around them, snapping photographs. This continued throughout the entire service. Nobody seemed to find this the least bit strange.

There were several scriptures and several more songs, which almost everyone knew. I only knew one – a very African-tinged version of “How Great Thou Art” and I sang along with great gusto. Finally the priest came down to address the couple. His sermon was half in English and half in Nyanja. His speech talked about how they should forgive each other and be kind to each other. He was very good, making the couple and the congregation laugh a number of times. He made a point of telling them that it was time to “say goodbye” to past boyfriends and girlfriends and had them wave “bye-bye” to the young men and women in the choir and the bridal party!

There was communion and a few more songs and then finally, there were the vows – not much different than wedding vows in any other church, except instead of saying “I do,” they answered simply “Yes” to the questions. When he pronounced them married, the church exploded with yells and cheers and the particular joyous ululating sound made in Africa at all times of joy and celebration. Two of the bridesmaid had confetti in a can that they sprayed over the couple. (I had taken some videos of both the ceremony and the reception, but unfortunately, they all came out without any sound…a great disappointment. There is really no way to describe in words the atmosphere of the dancing!)

Then everybody individually went up to the newlyweds to hug and kiss them and congratulate them on their marriage. Mary hung back until everyone had had their turn (myself included) and then she went to hug her daughter and her new son. When she turned back towards me, her eyes were wet. “Oh, Mary,” I said. “You are crying!” “My daughter,” she said. “My daughter – now she is gone.”

I drove Mary’s mother and several aunts to their house after the ceremony. Everyone would rest for a few hours until the reception. I came back later to pick them up – everyone had changed into clothes more suitable for a party and dancing. On the way to the reception, Mary’s mother asked me how long I would stay in Zambia and I told her maybe one more year. “I miss my people,” I said. She took my hand. “We are your people now,” she said. We passed by the house of the Zambian President, Michael Sata. He has reportedly been ill and I asked Mary’s cousin if they knew anything about his health. “Who cares?” she responded. “Sata doesn’t care about us! We take care of ourselves. We always have!”

The reception was held in a big hall owned by another church halfway across town. Everything had been decorated in green and orange and some of the decorations were still being put up. People slowly filled the place. Babies were carried in chitenge cloth tied around the mother’s backs. Children were everywhere. People were dancing, talking, laughing.

There was a DJ playing music and after a while, some women came around with trays of soda – Coca-Cola or Orange Fanta. I had a Coke – the first time I’ve had one in years. I had forgotten how sweet it is! Mary had changed into a very smart-looking suit. Everyone was anxious for the wedding party to arrive.

Finally, the MC announced their arrival. They danced in and you could see that they had spent months rehearsing. Each “pair” of bridesmaids and groomsmen did their own little dance.

The bride and groom finally arrived to more ululation and noise! They maintained a quiet dignity…and I thought they must be exhausted from all the festivities.

The MC introduced all the bridal party, announcing that each one was “single and free to mingle!” They then left and changed into different outfits – much more suited to the kind of “mingling” that had been mentioned. More dancing ensued, joined by many of the guests.

Food was served – a simple meal, but certainly good. I was also given a cup of home-made punch with fruit in it. After one sip, I could tell it packed quite a wallop. I couldn’t even imagine what it must have cost to put the whole party together, buy the dresses, rent the hall, order the food and drink…but as I said, Zambian weddings are a big deal.

Finally, the bride and groom did their “ball dance.” Again, the African music stopped and a slow pop-tune was played.

The cake was cut, and the bride and groom knelt in front of Mary and presented her with a portion of the cake. I found this particularly moving.

There was more dancing and everyone was moving to the beat. I got up to dance and was immediately swept into the circle by Mary’s cousin and mother and then by several of the groomsmen. One of the women tried to show me the correct way to shake my bottom, which is a huge part of dancing here. I tried my best! It was a fabulous time and I felt very welcomed!

When I saw Mary the next Monday, she told me how everyone was so happy to see me dance and that people had remarked that I “really knew how to dance!” Which is not something I’ve ever heard before, but it sure was fun. I was so glad to be invited and be made a part of Mary’s family.

Aug30

One short day in the Emerald City…I mean, Paris!

Posted on August 30, 2014 by juliechilton

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One short day in the Emerald City…I mean, Paris!

When I was in London last month, I decided to take a day trip to Paris. Why? Because I could! There is something very cool about boarding a train in London and coming out in the heart of Paris just a little more than two hours later. And, if you book far enough ahead of time, the fares for the Eurostar high-speed rail are pretty inexpensive. I took the earliest train from London St. Pancras, which leaves at 7:00am.

I got to the station in plenty of time to grab a coffee and a croissant. I meant to exchange some money for Euros, but I didn’t have time…I figured I’d do that when I got to Gare du Nord. The train was comfortable and I napped most of the way. When we arrived in Paris, I immediately went to the nearest Bureau du Change and inserted my debit card into the machine – as I have done many, many times before in many, many places. Only this time, the machine gave me this message:

“Transaction défendue. Carte retenue.”

Which means “Transaction denied. Card retained.”

I stood staring stupidly at the machine for at least a minute. Then I went over to one of the women behind the change booth. “Your machine kept my card,” I told her. “Cards are a 12% commission,” she replied. I tried again. “The machine didn’t give me my card back!” She looked at me with a bored expression. “That’s not our machine,” she said.

I went back to the machine and looked at it again. My card had not magically reappeared. I went to the second booth and changed the measly £30 (pounds) I had into €30 (Euros) which theoretically should have been about €37, but there apparently was a 10% commission on cash. Whatever. I tried one more time to find out what to do about the card-consuming machine. This time, I was told, “There’s a number on the machine you can call.”

Figuring that trying to get someone out there to open up the machine and return my card would likely eat into most of my day, I decided to forget it. I now had a bit of cash, I had other credit cards and most places took credit anyway. I walked out into the bright Paris sunshine and started to walk towards Notre Dame Cathedral and the Sienne.

I have a love-hate relationship with Paris. It is not a very friendly city. People are brusque and sometimes downright rude. The streets can be crowded and confusing. But – you are never more than 500 meters from a metro station…and wherever you walk, you see gorgeous architecture, fountains and statues.

It was a hot and sunny day and I stopped frequently to sit, take pictures and just soak in the busy-ness of Paris. Finally I reached Notre Dame Cathedral.

Entrance to the cathedral is free, but the line snaked all the way around the block…and I have been inside before. I love the square, though and the magnificent statues around the arches of the doors.

I found a little cafe a couple of blocks away and had a lunch of home-made pâté, crusty bread, poached salmon with potatoes and red wine. I mentioned my problems with the cash machine to the waiter and he told me he thought all the machines at Gare de Nord were faulty. Luckily, this place took American Express.

I then continued my walk along the Sienne. There are beautiful bridges and a walkway right down by the river. One of them is the famous “Pont des Arts” where it has become a tradition for lovers to “lock up” their love by putting a padlock on the bridge and then throwing the key into the river. IN recent years, this has become a problem, as there are now so many locks on the bridge that there is danger of collapse and rust from the locks is leaching into the Sienne. Apparently, a portion of the railing actually did collapse this past June and was replaced by plywood. There has been talk of trying to ban the practice of placing locks, but to my eyes, this has not had much effect.

I continued walking until I came to the Tuileries Garden. This used to be part of the Tuileries Palace, which was destroyed during the French Revolution. The Gardens are now open to the public, with many beautiful fountains, statues and plantings. It is a popular place to walk, sit, read, get a bite to eat and just hang out.

I found a public toilet at the end of the garden. Unlike London, which prides itself on its many available, clean and free public toilets, Paris’ facilities will cost you 2 euros. $2.65. To have a pee. I was outraged. However, I didn’t think anyone would take kindly to my using a bush in the public garden…so I coughed up my €2.

By this time, I could clearly see “la tour Eiffel” in the distance.

I continued out of the Tuileries and along Avenue des Champs-Elysées…that very famous street with the Arc de Triomphe at the end.

There was a lovely side section along the Champs-Elysees called “Allée Marcel Proust” with some benches, green grass and a couple of statues dedicated to the writer. I got myself a fruit drink from a vendor, spread my scarf out in the shade and lay down.

When I woke up, it was a bit cooler. I continued to walk, past the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais and across the Sienne again. I made my way down to the pedestrian walkway right on the river and stopped at a cafe for a cappuccino and some people-watching. I was right by the Pont Alexandre – such a beautiful bridge.

By now it was getting to be late afternoon. I decided to re-cross the Sienne one last time and find myself a new place for dinner. I had dearly wanted cassoulet, but it was really too hot for it, so I opted for some delicious French onion soup and a huge salad Niçoise (tomatoes, tuna, hard-boiled eggs, Niçoise olives, and anchovies with a vinaigrette dressing.) Accompanied by crusty bread and wine, of course!

I took the Metro back to Gare de Nord, went through passport control and found my seat in a half-empty train. I dozed most of the way back to London and thought what a great thing it had been – to go to Paris for the day.

Mar14

Johannesburg….sort of!

Posted on March 14, 2014 by juliechilton

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I started my long-awaited March break with a plane ride to Johannesburg. I was going to be taking the “premiere class” sleeper train all the way to Cape Town and I figured I’d get there a day early, check into my hotel and then see a bit of Johannesburg. I thought maybe I’d do the open-top city bus tour, stopping off at the Apartheid Museum and perhaps see if there was anything on at the symphony or find a local place where there was live music.

Well. None of that happened, sorry to say. So this post may not be all that interesting…but it will serve to document the first part of my journey and be sort of an introduction to the rest of the trip!

The plane to Jo’burg was small, but comfortable and we were served a light breakfast on board. When we landed, I grabbed my brand new bright purple wheelie bag and went to find the Gautrain, which would take me to Sandton…a suburb of Johannesburg where I had booked my hotel.

About Sandton. Originally, I had booked a hotel right near the train station. I figured that way I could see more of the city, easily catch the hop-on, hop-off bus and be close to where I needed to be for my train trip the next day.

However, more than one person warned me about central Jo’burg in general and the area around the train station in particular. So I listened…and booked a hotel in Sandton, which was suppose to be a “nicer” area. I booked a place right near the shopping district and within walking distance of the Gautrain station. I figured it might be a little more inconvenient, but I wanted to be safe.

Then the hotel I booked emailed me and said that the branch of the hotel I had booked was closing, but they could book me at a sister site, just up the road. So I went with it. In hindsight, this was a mistake and I should have stuck with the place near the train station…especially if I wanted to see any of the city! But…I digress.

The Gautrain (pronounced “howtrain”) is a brand spanking new public transportation system, easily navigated, extremely safe and very reasonably priced. I got my rechargeable ticket, boarded the train and was at the Sandton station within 20 minutes. Then the fun began. My hotel was supposed to provide free pick-up and drop-off to the train station and I had been instructed to call them when I arrived and they would send the shuttle get me.

So I called, but the woman on the other end of the line seemed a bit confused about what I wanted and her accent was very difficult to understand. It sounded like she was telling me to wait at the “tea cup.” At first I thought that perhaps this was the name of a cafe…but finally realized that she was saying “pick up.” I told her that I would wait there and described my purple suitcase and bright white hair.

25 minutes later, I was still waiting and getting a bit annoyed. A woman in a small silver car, who was there to pick up someone else, saw me and asked where I was going. When I told her, she said that she thought it was just up the street. I called the hotel again and the hotel lady seemed just as confused as before…I told her never mind, I would take a cab.

When the silver car woman heard this, she said, “Oh don’t take a cab, they are so expensive, why don’t you let me drop you off?” At this point, the people she was waiting for showed up…an American couple originally from Orlando who had just flown in from Hong Kong. We all piled into the little silver car and Rivita (that was her name) drove me to my hotel, which was NOT “just up the street,” NOT anywhere near the center, but almost 2 miles up the road and near absolutely nothing. Rivita actually called the hotel twice to ask them exactly where they were located…and the lady at the hotel was equally unhelpful both times. We finally found it and I thanked her (and the Orlando couple) profusely.

(I was extremely grateful for this kindness…I promised to “pay it forward.” Who knows how long I would have had to wait for a ride from the hotel!)

When I walked into the hotel, there were drop cloths and ladders everywhere. They were doing a major renovation in the lobby. The place smelled of fresh paint and wallpaper paste. Luckily, my room was ready, even though I was early. I dropped my bags and went to the restaurant (a quasi-Italian joint called “PapaChino’s”) for some lunch; I was starved. I had a passably good lamb pita and a killer mojito.

I still had the idea of maybe going into the city and getting the tour bus….but by then it was 2:00pm. By the time I got there, it would be closer to 3:00pm and bus only ran until 5:00. Besides, I was kinda tired and this was my vacation.

So I took a 3-hour nap instead.

When I got up, I realized that sight-seeing in Jo’burg probably was not going to happen this trip. So I spent the evening curled up in a chair overlooking the garden and pool, reading and having a glass of wine. The next morning, I was pleasantly surprised when the (included) breakfast buffet was one of the best I have ever seen and the coffee was freshly brewed. Getting a ride back to the train station proved to be much easier than I had anticipated.

And now….I am sitting in the premiere class lounge, enjoying complimentary tea and biscuits with the other passengers, while we wait to board our train to Cape Town!

Jan17

Bits and pieces…

Posted on January 17, 2014 by juliechilton

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Here I am, back in Zambia and although it is still warm and the sun still appears daily, it is definitely the rainy season. Clouds cover the sky at various (and odd) intervals – sometimes half the sky is black and stormy while the other half is blue and sunny. And the rains come quickly and seemingly without warning. Torrential rain with huge drops and wind. Everything is damp and soggy…but the grass and trees are turning bright green and soon the birds and flowers will emerge. I hope to take a weekend trip to one of the parks in February. The rates during what they have started to call “The Emerald Season” are decidedly cheaper (albeit soggier) and there are various “specials” for residents.

When I was “home” over the holiday, I had my camera with me, but could not download the pictures until I got back to my computer. So, in an attempt to “catch up” here are some random pictures and stories from my US holiday.

Here is a shot of me and the couple I met during the concert at Lincoln Center. They were nice enough to take me (and treat me) to dinner after the concert at a little French restaurant. I had Malbec wine for the first time and and now a fan!

Here are a couple more shots of our B & B in St Augustine…

And a shot of the city…

My beautiful daughter in the back garden at the B & B

This is the lobby of the Lightner Museum, which used to be one of the largest hotels in the world. Imagine how elegant it was!

As I mentioned in a previous post, the museum has a large collection of mechanical instruments and we got to see a demonstration. It was fascinating.

Of course, there was the fun of eating lunch “at the bottom of the pool” – but we also saw what used to be the sauna, shower nooks and a plunge pool. The showers and the pool are now part of the museum (although the depression in the floor where the pool was is obvious…right where those stairs go down) but they have left one section of the sauna as it was.

And I got some shots of the inside of the little chapel at the mission, where we heard such lovely music.

For New Year’s I took a trip out to Rochester, NY to visit my oldest and dearest friend and her family. Rochester, the seat of Monroe County, is a city with a varied and interesting history and is constantly reinventing itself. It has been known as both “The Flour City” and “The Flower City” and is home to some of the world’s greatest pipe organs, as well as the Eastman School of Music. In 1947, abolitionist newspaper “The North Star” was founded by Frederick Douglass in Rochester and the city was also home to Susan B. Anthony, crusader of women’s rights. Rochester has also been home to many industries, including Kodak and Bausch & Lomb.

We visited the Edgarton Model Railroad Club, which was open for the holidays. It was started as a club for wayward boys – to keep them off the streets. Now it is run by a group of die-hard rail-road enthusiasts and is a testament to their devotion.

The trains are housed in the basement of the Edgarton Community Center, a beautiful old brick building with wonderful original woodwork. which also contains the historic “Stardust Ballroom”

There was a meeting going on in the ballroom itself, but this is a photo from another website. Gorgeous, isn’t it?

The building behind the Community Center is the High School…and apparently started as a Women’s Prison! The irony! Here are my friends Nancy and Tess, posing in front of it!

One of Rochester’s biggest industries today is the Genesse Beer & Ale Company. They have recently refurbished an old building as a brew house and restaurant. It sits right on the banks of the mighty Genesee River, near the Upper Falls. It was a cold, cold day…we were glad to be inside, sampling beer.

I was happy to ring in 2014 with my friends…in their warm and cosy house all decorated for the season!

The end of the holiday saw me back down in NYC. I brought my two grand-daughters with me. We ate giant burgers, saw “Waiting for Godot,” took a tour of Lincoln Center, did a bit of shopping and visited MOMA. And tried to stay warm!

It was a wonderful holiday in every way! And now…back to warmer weather!

Dec24

The oldest city in the USA!

Posted on December 24, 2013 by juliechilton

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My daughter and I decided to spend the weekend before Christmas in Saint Augustine, about a two-hour drive from her apartment in Orlando. Saint Augustine, founded in 1565, is the oldest continuously occupied European-established settlement and port in the continental United States. It was owned by Spain for over 200 years and then the British. It has seen missions, battles, slave traders, mariners, teachers, politicians, entrepreneurs and now, tourists. There is plenty of fascinating history behind the storefront facades and brick-covered streets.

Many of the period houses have been lovingly restored and turned into elegant B & Bs. Ours was called “The Peace & Plenty Inn.” Like all the houses on the street, it was brightly decorated for the season!

Our room had a gorgeous antique four-poster bed, a private entrance through the back-garden and a jacuzzi tub!

The house was beautiful, with crown moldings, lots of dark woodwork, a fireplace in the living room. And every night, they had sherry and port wine and an assortment of gourmet cakes laid out.

That first night, we walked around the city, which was brightly lit up with lights. The tour trolleys were lit up as well, and would pass us full of people singing carols and in general good spirits.

Saint Augustine has many interesting and unusual shops…including a store called “The Ancient Olive” which sold infused olive oils and balsamic vinegars…and had a tasting bar, where you could sample all the different flavored, along with some nibbles on the side.

The city was once home to the Flagler Hotel, which had what was then the world’s largest indoor pool. The pool has been drained, and now you can have a delicious lunch in what used to be the deep end! Very cool!

The rest of the the hotel is turned into a museum, which houses an eclectic collection of items from the past few centuries…and most interesting to me, an entire room full of mechanical musical instruments. Huge music boxes, which played music from giant metal discs, a antique Wurlitzer, an automatic organ suitable for use in homes (and sold by Sears!) and a giant German-made contraption which could sound like a full orchestra! We were lucky enough to get there just as the demonstration was starting!

There are many antique and curio shops, some which sell treasures and some which sell items of a more…dubious nature.
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On Saturday evening, we walked along the water past the fort to the mission, which was having a special Christmas program of 16th century Spanish music, drama, food and traditions. The whole place was lit up by candlelight and the little chapel where they sang the old Spanish carols was all aglow.
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It was a wonderful weekend…and now, I am ready for Christmas!

Dec16

Start spreadin’ the news…

Posted on December 16, 2013 by juliechilton

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The “Festive Break” (as they call it) finally arrived, and I was on a plane out of Lusaka on that same Friday evening (along with more than a few other teachers and their families.). The quickest way home is on Emirates…they fly to Dubai (their “hub”) and from there, to almost any destination. 7 hours to Dubai, a 90 minute lay-over and then a 14 hour flight to NYC. I had obtained some kind of snooze-inducing medication from the local chemist (it was actually an anti-histamine) and managed to sleep for a good part of the first flight and about half of the second…so I was not as jet-lagged as I could have been. Emirates has pretty good service and seating, even in economy . Their entertainment system is top-notch, the food is decent and the drinks are free.

New York, New York, a helluva town.
The Bronx is up, but the Battery’s down.
The people ride in a hole in the ground,
New York, New York….

I arrived at JFK at about 2:4m, got through customs (it is all done now with self-serve computers…no more “Welcome home, citizen!”) and then….waited almost an hour for my luggage. I know somebody’s bag has to be the last, but you never think it will be yours. I had pre-booked a shared shuttle to my hotel thinking that I didn’t want to be dragging my huge suitcase up and down subways and along the snow-covered streets. However, the shuttle was horribly slow and once we got into Manhattan, it was even slower. As the driver crawled through the center of Times Square, some pedestrians took umbrage at how close the van came to their kids and started banging on the windows, shouting and hurling insults at the driver, questioning his intelligence, driving ability and parentage. I elected to get out and took the R down to Union Square, dragging my huge suitcase down the subway stairs and then through the snow-covered streets. It was blowing and cold and wet and I was happy to finally – finally! – arrive at my destination – The Seafarers and International House.

My room was small, but warm and comfortable and the shower was hot. I bundled up in the layers I had brought and pulled on my boots and headed out into the snow! The snow! So glad to see snow. There was the annual Christmas market in Union Square and I bought a pair of hand-knit mittens and a hat from the Himalayan shop. My ears were freezing!

I had promised myself that as soon as I hit NYC, I would get some honest-to-God draught beer. And so, I did.

This was at the Heartland Brewery, where I met an old friend from my days of Lord of the Rings fandom and Tolkien message boards. We chatted over more beer and an enormous plate of ribs…which I almost finished. I walked through the snowflakes back to the hotel and fell into bed, with the traffic outside the window lulling me to sleep. New York, New York…

The next day was Sunday and I had arranged to meet an old college friend (and SAI sister.). She had invited me to her church – the Marble Collegiate Church. I had passed by this church many times, but never been inside. It was beautiful and the music was lovely. A most welcoming and warm congregation, with an excellent preacher, too.
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It was fun to see my old friend. We both agreed that neither of us had changed a bit and went out for brunch, complete with bloody Mary’s.

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That evening, I snagged what had to be one of the last tickets to hear the Lincoln Center Chamber Music Society perform ALL SIX Bach Brandenburg Concertos! They performed in Alice Tully Hall, a wonderfully “live” hall and even though I was in the very last row, I could see and hear perfectly. As I settled into my seat, an almost-late older couple sat beside me and we joked about getting the last tickets. As we chatted in between concertos, I found that they had spent years in Africa. At intermission, they said that they were having dinner afterward and would I like to Join them! We had a wonderful dinner and some great conversation at a tiny French restaurant just up on 68th and they treated me! I love New York.

The next morning, I arose to sunshine and the bustle of a Monday morning in NYC. Got breakfast, did a bit of window shopping and then hopped on the bus up to Providence, where my son picked me up and brought me to his house, full of Christmas bustle, the flotsam and jetsam of two teenaged girls and my bubbly and energetic daughter-in-law, who had posted a “welcome home” sign on the door for me!

As I woke this morning, my daughter-in-law informed me that it was 2 degrees F. Hopefully I will manage to extricate my car from where it has been languishing in my son’s yard (and provided it will start and can get up the hill…) and drive to my little condo in Worcester today

Dec6

Shakespeare meets Fleetwood Mac

Posted on December 6, 2013 by juliechilton

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The musical at the American International School of Lusaka was a bit…unusual this year. In a good way.

I have been privileged to work with the drama director at the school, who is incredibly talented, unbelievably creative and just this side of insane. (As are all good drama directors.) This year being the 450th birthday of The Bard, he wanted to do Shakespeare…but what to do? One day, while reading through some of Shakespeare’s later and lesser- known plays, a recording of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” came on the radio and suddenly – the Idea was hatched. I was just along for the ride.

So…this was our production of “Pericles, Prince of Tyre” (aka “Lost at Sea”) with music by Fleetwood Mac.

To sing a song that old was sung,
From ashes ancient chorus is come;
Assuming man’s infirmities,
To glad your ear, and please your eyes

SONG: The Chain

Pericles, a young prince and seafarer, has landed at the Palace of King Anticochus, where he seeks the hand of the Princess. In order to win the right to marry her, a riddle must be solved. If he fails, his head will join those who have failed before him…now decorating the upper wall. However, what he doesn’t know is that if he actually solves the riddle, he will also be killed, as the answer exposes a dark secret between the King and his daughter.

Pericles solves the riddle and realizes at once what it means and what it portends for him. He tells the daughter that he cannot love her and must leave and quickly departs.

SONG: Go Your Own Way

Meanwhile, the King realizes that Perciles now knows his secret and orders one of his servants to find him and kill him.

Pericles returns to Tyre, much troubled. His Lords make a big fuss over his return, but his oldest and most trusted servant, Helicanus, sends them away, as he sees that his Prince is deeply upset. Pericles tells Helicanus what happened and admits that he fears for his life. Helicanus advises Pericles to go away for a while, until Antiochus has calmed down.

Pericles sails to Tarsus, which is in the midst of a famine. Their King and Queen, Cleon and Dionyza, are despairing about how to feed their people. When Perciles and his sailors show up with food, they pledge undying garniture and loyalty.

SONG: I’m So Afraid

After some time at Tarsus, Pericles and his men sail on, but they are caught in a raging storm. The ship is wrecked and Pericles finds himself washed ashore, bereft of his armour and alone.

SONG: Dreams

He is found by some local fisherman, who give him shelter, food and the news that he is now on Pentapolis, where good King Simodes is about ready to celebrate his daughter’s birthday and all the local knights are invited to joust in the tourney. Mourning his lack of armour, Pericles is cheered when one of the fisherman pulls in the net containing a suit of rusty armour. Pericles declares that he will go and joust with the rest, even in the rusty outfit.

The crowd has gathered and the Princess and her father watch as the knights are introduced. One by one they enter, making a spectacle of themselves.

SONG: What Makes You Think You’re The One

When Pericles enters, in his mean and tattered outfit, the crowd falls silent. Unlike the others, he does not preen, but merely bows to the Princess.

At the joust, Pericles acquits himself most admirably and Thaisa, the Princess, is very much attracted to him. She places the laurel wreath on his head. The King then commands that there be music and dancing!

SONG: Say You Love Me

Meanwhile, back at Tyre, the Lords are getting restless that Pericles has been so long away. They ask Helicanus to assume command. He demurs, but says that if Pericles does not return within a year, he will reluctantly take the position.

Thaisa has informed her father that she is in love with the Prince of Tyre and will wed no one else. Simonides is quite pleased, as he is impressed with Pericles, but he decides to make the couple think he disapproves at first! Finally, he proclaims them to be “man and wife” and sends them off to bed!

SONG: Crystal

Pericles receives word that his kingdom needs him, so he and Thaisa (who is now expecting a baby) head back to Tyre. A terrible storm hits them and Thaisa dies in childbirth, leaving a little daughter that Pericles names Marina. The superstitious sailors insist that it is bad luck to have a dead body on board, so Pericles allows them to put Thaisa in a casket and, after putting a note and jewels in with her body, casts her overboard. He decides to return to Tarsus to leave the baby with Cleon and Dionyza, as he fears she will not survive the long journey back to Tyre. Lychordia, Thaisa’s friend will also go, as nurse to the baby.

SONG: Beautiful Child

Cleon and Dionyza promise to treat the babe as their own daughter and Perciles sorrowfully leaves, promising to return as soon as he can.

SONG: Songbird

Early the next morning, Thaisa’s coffin washes up on the shore of the Coast of Ephesus near Diana’s Temple. It is found by the temple Priestesses, who are helping people after the storm. Upon opening it, they discover the body, but discern that there is still life. Using the power of Diana, Thaisa is resurrected.

SONG: Sisters of the Moon

END ACT ONE

As Act Two begins, Perciles is back at Tyre, pensive and lonely.

SONG: Storm

14 years pass. Marina grows to be a beautiful young girl, loved by all who meet her. Dionyza becomes increasingly jealous, because her own daughter is not as beautiful or talented. When Lychordia dies, Dionyza sees her chance and decides to have her killed – over the objections of her husband. She employs a servant to push Marina off a cliff, but right when she is about to do it – pirates appear! They kidnap Marina and take her to a brothel on the island of Mytilene!

SONG: Tusk!

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Bawd and Pander, the proprieters of the brothel are bemoaning their lack of suitable “wenches.” When their employee, Bolt, shows up with Marina, a bona-fide virgin, they are overjoyed. Marina, however, has other ideas.

SONG: Never Make Me Cry

It seems everyone who comes to the brothel hoping to sample the wares of the beautiful new girl are talked out of it, and leave promising to mend their ways and never go wenching again. Pander and Bawd are besides themselves, as their business is being ruined. When Lysimachus, the Governer of Mytilene (a regular customer,) shows up, Marina is instructed to “treat him as an honourable man” and do her job. Instead, Lysimachus falls in love with Marina and castigates Pander and Bawd and their brothel!

SONG: Over My Head

Pericles has returned to Tarsus, only to be told that his daughter is dead and shown her “tomb.” Completely grief-stricken, he declines to talk to anyone or take any nourishment. Helicanus takes him on a sea voyage, hoping to lift his spirits and they dock at Mytilene, where Lysimachus hears of Pericle’s melancholy and boards the ship, along with Marina. Marina agrees to try to help Pericles and as they talk, he realizes that she is his daughter.

SONG: Songbird (reprise)

Perciles falls into a swoon and has a vision of Diana and her priestesses.

SONG: Diana (Rhiannon)

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Upon awakening, he knows he must go to Diana’s Temple to give thanks. When he arrives, he explains who he is and is shocked when one of the Priestesses come forward, calling his name. It is his wife, Thaisa.

SONG: Landslide

Pericles cannot contain his joy. He kisses and embraces his long-lost Thaisa, introduces her to the daughter she never knew and gives his blessing to the marriage of Marina and Lysimachus.

SONG: Say You Love Me (Reprise)

In the epilogue, the chorus tells us that wicked Antiochus and his daughter have been killed by a stroke of lightening, that Cleon and Dionyza, although deserving of death, were allowed to live, that Helicanus was rewarded for his good and faithful service and that the Temple of Diana and her priestesses were ever revered by Pericles and Thaisa…and that Marina and Lysimachos lived happily ever after!

So, on your patience evermore attending,
New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

CURTAIN CALL: DON’T STOP

Via Con Brio!

Travels, treasures and taking a chance.

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Shakespeare meets Fleetwood Mac