We were heading south out of Vientiane on a long ride to Savannakhet. We needed to get back to Vietnam pretty soon, and Savannakhet seemed a good staging point. It's situated on the western edge of Laos about halfway down the "boot." And everyone knows: you gotta get up to get down. So let's climb aboard the Disco Bus.
Oh, we'll not soon forget you, Disco Bus. Marvel at the multi-colored siren-lights mounted above the seats on both sides of the bus from front to back. But the thing about Lao is that the bus will almost certainly break down (which it did), but meticulous care is paid to the maintenance of colored lights in the coach and to the upkeep of the 1,000-decibel sound system.
Of course, it wasn't air-conditioned and swarms of mosquitoes divebombed us incessantly, but, hey, it's AUTHENTIC, damn it. Sure, the bus only traveled 200 yards before stopping again -- to be repeated ad nauseam -- but, hey, it's AUTHENTIC, right? And who could complain about the ear-splitting Lao pop music which sounds, unbelievably, even more formulaic and predictably lame than even American top 40?
But the music video accompaniment was the real treat. Every music video, and I mean every one, featured a girl weeping. The entire time. Throughout the video. Broken up by moments of relatively mild domestic abuse such as shaking, pushing, and especially slapping. And the highlight was
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Pitchfork
You're a robot with a flattop like a copper with a pork chop
Sold to the state, you're a Hollywood date, and you've got blistering head shots
Dripping down the runway, the blacktop, you bellhop
You're jealous and grim, you're all shadowed and thin, and you're ducking in doorways
There's a gun under your pillow it's warm scotch and cold blood
Dying alone, disconnecting the phone, but the crowd's still screaming!
Bloodless lips curling into cruelty & I race straight for them
Fat little devil with a tiny plastic pitchfork
He's laughing again, the wall are closing in, and he's dancing with your girlfriend
Where you've been pacing back and forth the sulphur still lingers
A smokescreen, a crime scene, and the people crowd around to see
Feeling like a strip of bacon, smelling like a rotten egg
Concrete fields full of rebar trees, you're like a board with a nail through it
--a pitchfork might do it
Bloodless lips curling into cruelty & I race straight for them
They're coming for you, another skeleton crew
No sense of direction, you're a lethal injection, I got a voodoo doll that looks like you
Blacked out windows like some semiconscious eyes
Unblinking, unthinking, they're forcing you inside
And now you're surrounded
Pitchforks raised, pineappled in the face – it's a tropical mace,
it puts you in your place, you're like a board with a nail through it – a pitchfork might do it
you're like a board with a nail through it – a pitchfork might do it
you're like a board with a nail through it
Bloodless lips curling into cruelty & I race straight for them
The problem is all over the sidewalk now.
Copyright 2010
E.W. Borg
The Goat Bus: DIY Travels in Laos
The Goat Bus
So.
Our trip is nearly over. We've actually been on a beach north of Nha Trang, Vietnam for a week just zoning out and being peaceful. We needed time to convalesce after our trip from Savannakhet, Laos to the Vietnam border. That trip is a story worth telling as it was by far the most fun I had on a local bus anywhere in Southeast Asia.
Picture this:
My girlfriend and I rise before dawn in Savannakhet, bleary-eyed but ready for what we know will be a challenging do-it-yourself-to-the-border kind of marathon day. We get a tuk-tuk to the bus station as the sun is rising and get on a rickety, aged bus full of sacks of rice. And I mean FULL. We sit there for awhile, contentedly watching them load rice, shaking off the sleepiness -- but then a feeling of wrongness descends over us. Is this the right bus?
Nope.
Luckily, we abandon the rice-bus and hop on the correct bus just in time for it to
...sit there for awhile. And then, eventually, like all local buses, it shrieks into life, shudders, farts a cloud of noxious black smoke, and we trundle out of the dirt lot called a bus station on our way to the border. Gradually.
We almost immediately have to stop to fill up the tank with petrol, and the driver has to jaw with his buddies hanging out at the petrol station, then we continue on again -- for about twenty more minutes. Then, just a few miles outside of town, we're pulling over to the WRONG SIDE of the highway, lazily drifting into oncoming traffic (which are mostly motos whose drivers know to get the hell out of the way of an oncoming bus with bad brakes) and stopping for what looks like...an extended stay.
We look around. What could we be loading onto the bus NOW? we think, as the bus is already quite full of sacks of rice, various musty boxes and containers, children, the elderly, etc.
WHAT, then?
Well, I'll tell you: GOATS.
FICTION: Back to the Trees
Is this a day? Has time passed? What changes, some infinitesimal flow of variations, have conspired to create the idea of moments? Memory. Deceiver! We recall things from the past, all but dreams – did they have life, reality? Only through memory. “Now” is the wake produced by our lives, always dragging just behind us the instant of their birth; instantly it is called the past. A backward future, fond memories, an acceptable mixture of how things seem and how they are not…but there is finally sunlight, and truth is unnecessary in good weather.
(Twenty-three)
Today is the anniversary. The one-year anniversary, the temporary punchline to a joke that just keeps going. Time lacks purpose. It lacks a teleology of its own. It is nothing; it is an interminable three hundred and sixty-five notches, each indicating a dark blue sunrise, each carved with an old, broken Phillips screwdriver by my own hand, etched in the life-preserving skin of this, the largest tree in the world. Which is my world. Which is, for all practical purposes, the whole world, bounded on all sides by the promise of agony and the certitude of death.
And now, on this solemn occasion, I recognize my inevitable fate. For I am the last one. So happy anniversary to me and my screwdriver.
I think I’ll celebrate with some fresh-picked plantains. And perhaps for dessert, a rare and tasty mantis popper, which I've saved for weeks for just this occasion. You can’t get better protein than praying mantis, and that’s a fact.
(Twenty-two)
We started out ten strong a year ago. I remember old Mrs. Goldblatt, nearly bald and always complaining of cataracts: she just couldn’t hang on to those slick, well-worn branches. Her fingers were gnarled. She couldn't hang on. Her frail husband Lou, in a moment of ultimate decisiveness, followed her down silently, as if he was chasing after her; only a heartbeat separated them in their plunge to oblivion.
But Dutch was the one in control. He orchestrated ingenious feats of engineering, all with an unshakable will to survive. Damn fool, I can only hope he made it somewhere habitable in his flying contraption. I watched him go until the fog swallowed him up.
Then there was little Sven, what a plump young lad. A little too plump: he fell to his death with an eye-melting scream, broken branch-sticks in his marshmallow fingers. Sven’s two sisters, Mina and Joan, were old enough to understand death. But they eventually went mad, all at once, and at the same moment, laughing a most chilling laugh as they joined hands and leapt from this very tree, the tallest one and the stoutest. Just crashed down through the canopy, and then they too were gone.
That was not long ago, according to my calendar of notches. But there’s plenty of room to move around nowadays.
(Twenty-one)
After the Catastrophe, most of the world’s foliage and forests were dead. Vast tracts flattened, twigs and berries ground under the heel of darkness and poison. Thankfully I was in relatively the right place to weather the storm, though I couldn't conceive of a right time. I should’ve been a Portuguese explorer or a famous German poet, or anything at any other time. Let me take my chances.
But I’m here now, and for some reason I persist. At least as long as this pen holds ink – it’s the last one on earth, as far as I'm concerned.
The Switch: A Farcical Journey
Trapped inside the nicotine-stained skin of a hobo. Looking out at the world with my one good eye, shaking all over from the D.T.’s. Fact is, I woke up in this boxcar this morning, disoriented and smelling of wine coolers. I seem to be in bad need of a shave and my clothes reek of cat litter and axle grease. Strange that just yesterday I was a productive member of society, with family and friends and a home full of hard-earned belongings, all collected with thoughtfulness and kept with care. And my darling Jane, who must be frantic by now, wondering what’s become of me.
I imagine soon there’ll be a missing persons report filed, probably by Jane or my mother. Alas, what good will it do? The police will never suspect that I’ve become prisoner inside a hobo! And even if I went to the authorities, they would take me for a mad, drunken beggar (which, it would seem, is just the problem) and thrash me with their nightsticks. No, I can’t try to contact my loved ones either. With all these teeth missing, I can hardly form words, much less convince a grieving mother that her son is alive and well and riding the rails in another man’s body for kicks. I’ll just have to figure out something more clever…
My God! I’ve just had a terrible thought! What if – no, it’s too much…but supposing that the hobo and I have somehow switched places…oh, what kind of gypsy curse has befallen me!
I can just see him now, the rascal, masquerading around as me, enjoying all the amenities due to me – and Jane! Surely she will realize that it’s not me, that something is horribly wrong, and perhaps she will figure it all out and come looking for me. Oh, but this is all just madness, pure folly! What will the Director of my Department think?
I must get a hold of myself here. I’ve got to focus on the problem at hand. Which isn’t easy with the deafening clatter of the train echoing through this empty freight car.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
General Proposal, Homeless Garden Project (Santa Cruz, CA)
GENERAL PROPOSAL
Context
Nearly 5,000 people in Santa Cruz County are homeless in a year. Research indicates job loss as the number one reason given for homelessness. Regrettably, job skills alone cannot erase the barriers to employment that confront people who are homeless. Low self-esteem, untreated health issues, chemical dependency, domestic violence, and laws and ordinances that criminalize homelessness and undermine dignity present formidable obstacles to securing employment. Consequently, interventions that enable individuals to access treatment and allied rehabilitative services, to build healthy relationships in a safe environment, and to learn marketable job and life skills stand the best chance of successfully reintegrating homeless and formerly homeless individuals into productive, meaningful engagement in community life.
The need for programs serving the county’s homeless population has never been clearer. On March 30, 2010, Santa Cruz’ Project Homeless Connect, modeled after a San Francisco-based nonprofit, invited all people who are homeless or facing housing insecurity to receive a day of services under one roof. Nearly 1,200 people gathered to access preventative health screenings, receive phone cards and sign up for free voicemail, learn about transitional housing and temporary shelter options, register for identification cards, and access a variety of other vital, basic services.
The Homeless Garden Project, described below, represented one of only two participating county agencies that focused on employment. At this event, the Project received 71 applications for our transitional employment and skills’ training program. Staff and volunteers distributed 116 informational sheets to participants, sharing the details of the Homeless Garden Project’s services, including the training program, volunteer opportunities, lunch, and opportunities to connect with people in a productive and safe space.
Mission: Cultivating Self-Sufficiency & Self-Esteem
The Homeless Garden Project (HGP) brings together people from throughout the community in the beauty and security of its certified organic farm to practice and teach principles of ecological & economic sustainability. In so doing, HGP provides homeless men and women with job skills training and transitional employment.
Core Programs
The Homeless Garden Project is more than a community garden–it is a place where community is nourished and restored. Annually, homeless and formerly homeless individuals, called “trainees,” work alongside community members, tending a 3-acre organic farm; preparing hot, healthy meals from the produce they grow; drying flowers, grasses and herbs; and creating beautiful long lasting arrangements from dried flowers and grasses; and producing and selling value-added products in our workshop and store. Both our trainees and volunteers enjoy participating in HGP’s core programs and interconnected enterprises:
- A Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program, where community members buy CSA shares--a portion of the garden’s organic produce and flowers--and pick up their weekly ‘share’ during the harvest season. On average, approximately 55 families and individuals purchased shares and another 15-18 shares are donated to local non-profits for distribution to low-income families. Fifteen bouquets of flowers are given to Hospice Caring Project each week for sharing with their clients.
- Connecting with Community (formerly Community Connections) brings vital resources within reach to those members in our area in desperate situations. Our advocates assist individuals in finding the help they need including with housing, health, resolving legal issues and access to low-income educational programs; and our staff works daily with trainees to develop and progress toward personal and work goals.
- Women’s Organic Flower Enterprise (WOFE) creates value-added products using raw materials grown by our trainees on our organic farm while providing individuals meaningful work, skills and increased understanding. WOFE products are sold in our retail store, From Our Garden, with all revenue returning to the program. Originally intended as a safe place for women, WOFE now employs men as well, while retaining the value of safety for women.
- Cultivating Community is an educational program open to anyone interesting in learning about sustainable horticulture, social justice and nutrition. Individuals or groups may attend free lectures; participate in formal outdoor classroom series; or take part in hands-on training. In 2007-2008, we targeted underserved youth with the focus on healthy eating; in 2009, 1034 individuals participated in the program, including college interns, seniors, developmentally challenged, low income and homeless individuals. We know of no other program that provides this level of access to such a broad diversity of visitors.
Our trainees are involved in every aspect of our project, including planting, tending, and harvesting fruit, vegetables, and flowers; preparing flowers and CSA shares for distribution; making gift products; and running the retail store. Through these activities, our trainees have experienced numerous meaningful changes in their lives: entering into housing with family, maintaining sobriety and improved mental health, attending school, getting married, working through legal issues, taking on increased responsibility at the farm, taking additional jobs, working on resolving bad credit, and receiving disability for a chronic illness. The very environment in which our trainees work – outdoor among the plants and vegetables – nurtures them and promotes healing and stability.
Description of Organic Farming & WOFE Training Programs
In 2009, HGP trainees and volunteers grew and harvested 13,280 bundles of flowers, which were dried and crafted into 108 wreaths, 94 bags of potpourri and a host of other gift products. These products fill the shelves of our tiny store, From Our Garden, where community members and visitors to Santa Cruz can purchase them. Each purchase provides vital revenue for ongoing training efforts while simultaneously affirming the growing skills and confidence of WOFE trainees.
The training program consists of formal lectures and in-field/on the job training. While providing structure, the program is flexible enough to build on strengths of trainees coming from a very wide variety of backgrounds, skill levels and work histories.
Lectures are predominantly focused on horticultural topics and are designed to provided backgrounds and deepen understanding of in-field practices. In addition, lectures on conflict resolution, communication, local resources, resume building and other topics both strengthen individual trainees’ life skills and create a common frame for the trainee community to move in positive directions and mutual support.
Rules reinforce basic workplace skills and standards. The program offers training in technical skills from greenhouse skills to harvest and post-harvest handling; as well as soft skills such as planning, communicating with co-workers and taking initiative.
During the harvest season, the work week is highly structured: Tuesday is circle meeting, followed by field work; Wednesday is lecture, followed by field work; Thursday, flower harvest and Friday vegetable harvest, both followed by field work. The harvest is an extremely tangible shared goal that creates the ongoing need to replenish, replant and maintain existing crops.
Trainees advance through the program at their own rates and excel in various areas; we regularly hear that returning for a second season brings increased understanding of the seed to harvest cycle as well as appreciation for all that has been experienced and learned.
Demographic Information for 2009 Trainees
In 2009, the Homeless Garden Project provided 10,448 hours of paid job training to 21 people in 14 positions. Among the group of trainees in our 2009 program, 74% were White, 16% Native American, 5% Asian, and 5% Latino. Sixty three percent of this group identified the city of Santa Cruz as their home. About 16% of our trainees receive disability benefits, and therefore fall slightly above poverty level, but all fell well below 200% of poverty level. Trainees’ ages ranged from 23-59, and the group was 47% women and 53% men. Sixty eight percent of the trainees reported a documented disability, mental health diagnosis, or addiction issue.
Evaluation
Evaluation
Homeless Garden Project’s job training is an in-depth, consistent approach that is sensitive to the strengths and weakness of each trainee rather than a quick and intensive program that aims to get as many people through in as short a time as possible. It is because of this approach that we have a reputation for working with clients who have not succeeded with other organizations.
We measure the results and quality of our programming by benchmarking the skills and general wellbeing of trainees at the outset of the program and participants’ completion of evaluation questionnaires upon completion of the program and at intermediary points. Please see the attached description of assessment tools. Upon completing the skills training programs, we anticipate a response of at least 75% of program participants who feel the educational workshops and skills training activities helped them to meet their personal goals. For our training programs, we also aim for 80% of our trainees to increase by at least one point on a work skills check-in sheet. In addition, we maintain records for each trainee that includes information about other significant milestones, e.g.: gaining employment, accessing and completing addiction treatment programs, securing stable housing arrangements, etc.
Here’s what trainees said about their experience in a survey created for HGP by the Center for Justice, Tolerance and Community at the University of California-Santa Cruz:
All trainees replied that their lives had changed since starting the program. Some explained:
- I feel more grounded and feel inspired to create a better life for myself.
- I feel like I have a group of people who understand my situation and are there for me and want to help me move forward in life.
- I have learned more than words can explain and feel as if many doors are now open to me. I have more inspiration.
Trainees also offered concrete illustrations of how HGP has helped them make progress towards their life goals:
- HGP has given me the support I needed to be more confident within myself – making it possible to overcome handicaps – and work everyday.
- I feel I have learned to take care of myself more by working at HGP. I also have been inspired by other people I work with to do school and to take care of myself in the right ways. HGP has been a place where I can work through emotional issues without being judged.
- [HGP staff] helped me learn many skills, knowledge that will help me get closer to my wants. They have been an excellent support system. Their focus has always been to us individually as well as a team. I really feel they have helped me stay on the right track.
During 2009, we worked with over 452 volunteers, 423 of them new in 2009. The majority of these volunteers worked at the farm, but others worked in our workshop-- creating wreaths, sewing, wrapping and decorating candles--staffed our retail store or helped out in the office.
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