Spring Has Sprung In Dushanbe - Mostly

As I mentioned, I returned to Dushanbe from Bishkek to find beautiful spring weather and Stephanie and I took full advantage of it.

On Saturday, after I got my haircut, we went over to the main park to enjoy the warm weather and read. While there, we checked out a couple of the huge construction projects going on in Dushanbe. Apparently, with the 20th anniversary of independence from the Soviet Union approaching in September, the government wants to build a number of shiny new buildings to mark the occasion. Where the money is coming from is anyone's guess.

One of the places we looked at is the monstrosity of a library that's going up adjacent to the park. It's funny, there are a number of construction projects that seem to be virtually at a stand still - buildings that have barely added a floor or two the entire time we've been here. But the library has gotten this far in about 6 months. I have no idea where they'll get enough books to fill the place.

Another big project is the construction of the world's tallest flagpole. I believe that Baku, in Azerbaijan currently holds the title and Dushanbe's flag will beat it by about 9 feet at over 540 ft tall.

It's sure to be impressive, although I can't say that I understand why Central Asia's poorest country needs to spend money building the world's tallest flag.

Another great ongoing project is Central Asia's largest teahouse. It's going up rapidly alongside the Hyatt. There is a great aerial photo from Google Earth that has been making the rounds in the Dushanbe community.

After our time in the park, we had a nice lunch and then headed home to relax before going to a farewell party for one of my colleagues. On the way home, we even spotted the first daffodils coming up outside of the parliament building.

On Sunday, Stephanie went for a tennis lesson while I got started on our garden. Since we know we'll be here through the end of August, I figure it's worth doing again so that we can have some fresh veggies not found on the local market. Surprisingly, my collard greens from last fall survived the entire winter and we now have a bumper crop on the way to start things off. We're still working our way through the berries we froze last summer, but are low on the greens.

Amazingly, we're already half way through another week and are busy making plans for the Navruz holiday (Persian New Year), which occurs next Monday and Tuesday. It's been cold and rainy the last couple of days, but hopefully things will clear up by then. It's hard to believe that this time last year, we were heading off to our Uzbekistan adventure.

This evening, Stephanie and I went to see a dance performance that combined a small troupe from the U.S. with a couple of local dance groups. The songs ranged from "All the Single Ladies" to traditional Tajik music, to some odd 60's montages. And in case you were wondering, "All the Single Ladies" was performed by one of the local groups.

The Saga of Bishkek

And now I will tell the tale of Bishkek...

Actually, there isn't a whole lot to tell. I guess I didn't think too much about this trip because if Congress hadn't passed the continuing resolution, I wouldn't have gone at all. We went for the Joint Humanitarian Operations Course at the Manas Air Force Base, which was led by the Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance (OFDA). OFDA is technically under the umbrella of USAID, and it's the office that coordinates all U.S. assistance for disasters overseas. But before I get into the training, I suppose I should start from the beginning of the trip.

The flight was on a very similar plane to the one I took to Khujand with the Ambassador. Meaning it was an incredibly loud prop plane with flimsy fold down seats. It was cloudy and the windows were dingy, so I didn't get to take in the views very much. Even thought I know that we have a U.S. Air Force presence in Kyrgyzstan, it was still disorienting when we got off the plane and saw 5 or 6 big Air Force planes on the tarmac. America seems so far away that any time I see something from home here in Central Asia, I'm a bit shocked. Yes, I know this is coming from someone who works at the U.S. embassy and walks past an American flag every morning, but this is somehow different.

On arrival in Bishkek, we got through customs and were immediately flanked by a number of taxi drivers offering their services. One person in our group had to get a visa on arrival, so we bantered with the taxi drivers for awhile. When they discovered we were diplomats, one said, "Oh, you're very important. You each should have your own taxi!" He thought he was very clever until I turned to him and said "Yes, and they should each be free!"

We made it to our hotel, (in shared cabs, being mindful of the cost to the U.S. taxpayer), and checked in before heading out in search of dinner. One of my colleagues had been to Bishkek before, during the revolution last Spring, and took us to Edgar's, a basement restaurant in the park across the street. Edgar's is now probably my favorite restaurant in Central Asia.

The restaurant is mostly underground and is fairly dark with an odd decor that includes fishing nets and model sailing ships. The marine motif in a country that is at least 2,000 miles from the nearest ocean added to the charm. There was also a live piano player and a violinist, playing Russian tunes in the corner. Of course, anyone who knows me knows that food is paramount for me and here Edgar didn't fail to disappoint. One of my friends from work and I couldn't decide what to order, so we split a number of dishes including pepperoni pizza, (AMERICAN PEPPERONI!), pickled herring with potatoes and onions, red caviar sandwiches, and some mouth watering pork ribs. It was heaven. To top it off, they had Baltica 6,(a dark beer). They only have odd numbered Balticas in Tajikistan.

Our training didn't start until Tuesday, on Monday morning I went running with a buddy from work and we toured the town a bit.

Bishkek isn't really all that different from Dushanbe in appearance. There is more park land and the government buildings are a bit more grand, but there is still that underlying layer of poverty and underdeveloped-ness.

That said, Bishkek has a distinctly more metropolitan air than Dushanbe. People were just more purposeful and seemed to have places to go. There were also some very flashy cars...

Bishkek boasts a tremendous number of statues and memorials.

This one with a ring of floating people around it seemed kind of creepy to me.

We were also to see lingering signs of the revolution, such as this burned-out building near the main square. (In the upper right corner)

After our run we enjoyed a fabulous breakfast at the hotel, including smoked fish and fresh honey comb, and then spent the morning working on my e-mails for work.

A bunch of us set out for lunch a while later. It took us a while to find the place and on the way we saw the parliament -

- and a rather impressive, (compared to Dushanbe), amusement park.

It's often hard to agree on a place to eat, and I really wanted to try some local food, which was not so enticing to my colleagues. One of the reasons that I never really traveled with anyone besides Stephanie is that few people are as adventurous as I am when it comes to eating. That said, my colleagues humored me and we found a place serving local cuisine. As with the other places I've been, Kyrgyz national food tends to be similar to the other 'stans. We had Kyrgyz lagman, which was somewhere in between Tajik and Uzbek lagman, and Kyrgyz plov, which was interesting because it was less greasy and had whole-grain rice instead of white. I liked the fresh taste of it, but one friend who is a plov connoisseur did not approve.

Of course, each country has something unique. In Kyrgyzstan, the dish is Beshbarmak, a dish of horse and noodles. Traditionally, the dish is served with a sheep's head, but alas, I did not get one. The meal itself was delicious, although I wasn't able to identify a couple of items on the plate and didn't try too hard.

On the way back to the hotel, we saw a few interesting sights. Near the main square, there were young men with rabbits and fancy pigeons on pedestals.

I think people could pose for pictures with them. Then we walked through an interesting art show, with some very creative pieces of work.

But the highlight, for me, was the crazy squirrel I saw in the park. We were looking at some interesting statues, like the crying rhino head,

-when I saw something that looked like a live Pokemon scamper up the tree. Despite his speed, I got some good pictures.

When we got back to the hotel, there was a sports team getting off a bus. We had a bit of an uncomfortable moment on the elevator when we asked where they were from and they said "Iran". I know there are specific protocols for interacting with Iranian diplomats, but I don't know if there are supposed to be any limitations with civilians, so we just politely acknowledged one another and went on our way. However, it later turned out that one of the players bought one of the women in our group a massage at the spa (the front desk told her it was a Woman's Day gift, and she didn't find out otherwise until afterwards). That was pretty funny. Nothing came of it, although he did offer her a free ticket to the upcoming game. Unfortunately, it was scheduled for Thursday and we were heading back to Dushanbe that morning.

After putting in some more work, we all went to a nearby Chinese restaurant. It looked like the kind of place where you get a stowaway in your gut, (wouldn't be the first for me, I'm sure), but it turned out to be very very good. That seems to be a universal thing with Chinese food. No matter how horrible the restaurant looks, the food is usually ok.

On Tuesday, we got a very early start and made our way to the Manas air base for the training. Seeing this one base really brings some reality to the my picture of how massive our military operations are. It was like a small town all to itself. At the training we learned about the inner workings of America's response to disasters in foreign countries. There was a lot I didn't know and it was interesting. Disaster relief requires an enormous coordination of effort and that's just from our end. It gets even more complicated when you factor in all of the other nation's efforts and those of international organizations like the UN and Red Cross.

Now, while the training was interesting and useful, we were even more impressed with the dining facilities and commissary. For lunch we could choose from a huge variety of choices that I haven't seen since leaving the U.S... good cheeseburgers, chicken tender, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, onion rings, chocolate cheesecake, Combos, Pop Tarts, soft serve ice cream...you get the picture. It was mind-boggling. What was funny was that some of the military personnel were actually apologizing for the quality of the food. When we gushed about how good it was, we had to convince them that we weren't being sarcastic. I guess I can see how it would get old after awhile, but after being in Dushanbe for 18 months, it was anything but disappointing.

After lunch, we checked out the commissary and I picked up some American treats to bring back to Stephanie...Cheetos, Cheez-its, tuna fish, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Sour Patch Kids, and Salt & Vinegar Pringles, to name a few. It's not that we've been actively missing these things, but when you see them suddenly, it's all you can do not to sweep the whole shelf into your basket.

After the first day of training we went to Edgar's again. This time I had the pepperoni pizza, the pork ribs, and some pork and veal shashlik all by myself. Again, it was wonderful.

On Wednesday, we had our second day of training, and another huge lunch, and made another trip to the commissary. As I said, the training was very enlightening. It's also given me a different perspective on the tragedy in Japan with the earthquake and tsunami. I already have a good idea of what's going on behind the scenes in terms of ramping up the relief effort and it's interesting to hear some of the groups and offices I encountered mentioned in the news.

On our last evening in Bishkek, we went for a little walk before dinner to take in the sights some more.

Bishkek is an hour ahead of Dushanbe, so it stayed lighter much later than it does in Dushanbe. One of my colleagues particularly enjoyed a statue that looked like it was barfing - the real barf, not snow.

For dinner, I would have been happy to go back to Edgar's for a third round, but we decided to try a place nearby called Vogue. It was definitely fancier, and the food was still good, although I was a bit disappointed when the buffalo wings came out with no buffalo sauce and just five tiny wings on the plate. I guess fancy-looking restaurants are the same anywhere you go.

We had to leave very early the next morning to catch our flight. This time we were flying Kyrgyz air and the plane was the same except they had real seats and I could see out of the window. Even though I was in the aisle seat, I was able to snap a couple of good pictures.

We returned to Dushanbe to find some gorgeous weather. Only a week ago, it was snowing and now it's in the upper 60's. Spring arriveth.

I spent the last couple of days of the work week avoiding a crazy landlady who isn't happy that we aren't renewing her lease and has been demanding to speak to me about it even though we've already had a meeting. I sense the possibility of some interesting stories in the near future.

On Friday, my team went out to lunch at my favorite plov restaurant (it's served with pieces of fat and a quail egg), to send off one of my employees who has taken a job in Iraq. And just like that, it's the weekend.

Stephanie and I have a number of plans ahead of us, but that will be a story for next time.

From Bourbon Street to Bishkek

On Saturday, Stephanie and I went to the annual Mardi Gras party at the DCM's, (Deputy Chief of Mission), house. I think it was even better than last year, with lots of good food and plenty of Hurricane's, beads, and chocolate coins.

I didn't even get a chance to mention it, but on Sunday, I flew to Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan for training. This brings me up to a total of 4 'stans out of a possible 7, so I've been to more than half of them. Frankly speaking, however, I can't say I'm particularly eager to get to Turkmenistan, Afghanistan, or Pakistan, but who knows.

Of course, I'm having my share of adventures, but will wait until I have the pictures to go along with it to share. I will, however, give a shout-out to the Gmail phone service, which is outstanding and a great way to stay in touch.

Time Flies, Regardless of What You're Doing

Whoops - I just realized that it's been over a week since I posted anything. I guess time flies whether you're having fun or not. Actually, we did have fun over the weekend.

On Friday, after a happy hour at the Marine House, we went out to the Korean restaurant for dinner with another couple. It was just a nice evening out. On Saturday night, we went to a birthday party for one of my co-workers and had a really good time there as well. On Sunday, as a sort of birthday present, we offered to watch the son of the guy whose birthday it was. We had a fund day watching movies and ended up running away from, then eating imaginary animals including a hippopotamus, a lion, a tiger, and an elephant. Apparently there was a giraffe too, but it wasn't on the menu.

In the process of our playtime, we noticed that a bird that died on our roof shortly after we arrived was still there. It must be fairly mummified by now, but it hasn't budged. This is exceedingly odd since every time it snows, the snow comes falling off the roof in thunderous avalanches when it melts. I would have thought the bird would have come down with them. I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky that neither the avalanches nor the bird have landed on our heads.

We also expanded our culinary experience and bought a duck at the supermarket, which we roasted on Sunday. It came out great and we even made a little pate out of the liver. Not bad for just another weekend in Dushanbe.

Most of the week at work has involved wondering about, and planning for the potential government shutdown. I guess for now it looks as though we will have a two week reprieve, and then we can go through it all over again. I don't think it's appropriate for me, as a government employee, to comment on what I think about all of this in a public forum, so I won't. But I do have a lot of thoughts about it. It's also interesting to be going through this as a government employee. The last time the government shut down I was in the 7th grade, and so had a much different perspective.

I guess the other big point of interest is what's going on in the Middle East. Again, I won't comment on it too much, but I do think it's incredible to witness it unfolding. Again, I was about 7 when the Soviet Union started collapsing and didn't think much of it other than to wonder what would happen to the maps. I'm not sure that this is as significant yet, but it has the potential to be.

The other big news is that we are now officially in the last 6 months of our time in Dushanbe. It's hard to believe we've been here for 18 of them already. I don't have a firm departure date yet, but it will most likely be before September 3rd, so there you have it. 6 months, at most, and counting...

Wet, wild, and...sticky?

It's been a wet week in Dushanbe with more rain and snow. This kind of weather tends to bring out the 'interesting' side of my commute. One morning, it was raining fairly heavily and I was walking down the street to catch a numbered cab to the gym at the embassy. I need to explain this a little better.

I have to walk to the intersection of the main road (Rudaki) and the road to the embassy (Somoni) to catch a ride. The problem is that police officers (remember, they're looking for bribes, not ensuring orderly traffic), like to hang out near this corner to catch unsuspecting drivers. Because of that, I usually have to walk down a ways past the cops to catch a cab. Usually, if I see police officers, I'll walk on the sidewalk until I'm past them, but there are trees between the street and the sidewalk that prevent me from catching a taxi from the sidewalk. So, since it was raining, and I didn't see a cop, I was walking down the street hoping to catch a cab (they are few and far between early in the morning).

Suddenly, a cop stepped out and told me that I had to walk on the sidewalk. Knowing that was ridiculous, but not thinking it was worth the argument, I complied. No sooner did I start walking, than I saw a cab with the right number on it go by. I missed it. And another one didn't come until about 15 minutes later. 15 minutes of standing in the rain later. 15 MINUTES OF WATCHING OTHER PEOPLE WALK DOWN THE STREET PAST THE COP AND HE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING TO THEM ABOUT WALKING ON THE SIDEWALK LATER! Not that I was surprised, but that didn't make me any less furious or stop me from cursing the cop ten ways to Timbuktu while I waited. On the bright side, by the time I got to the embassy, I was still angry enough to have a very good workout.

Today, my cab experience was more of a wild ride. No cops in sight and I got a cab right away. But this one turned out to be an old soviet-era car with tiny windows, which were almost opaque with fog because the heat wasn't working. It also smelled heavily of gasoline and I'm almost sure that my seat wasn't fastened to anything. Not my seatbelt, my seat. Nonetheless, one of the good things about going to the gym in the morning is that there isn't a lot of traffic to collide with so it's still fairly safe.

At work, we're finishing up another one of our bi-annual auctions, where we try to save the government some money by selling things we would otherwise throw away. One of the big problems is that the locals like to bid for items, but often don't have the means to pay for them. We think that sometimes, they bid on something they think they can sell and then try to find someone to buy it from them before they'll come and get it. Today, we got one of the most interesting responses I've ever heard of. One of the bidders actually offered to pay us in honey. Apparently, the bid was for over $300 and a liter of honey (a little less than a quart), goes for about 30 somoni, or a little more than $6. So while the offer is tempting, I don't think the embassy has use for more than 10 gallons of honey. But still, points for creativity.

For now, just glad tomorrow is Friday...

Disconnect

Stephanie and I just accomplished something amazing. We survived an entire three days without internet service! For those of you reading from the U.S. with more or less continuous service, I know that might not sound like much, but even we didn't realize how important being connected has become until we became disconnected. Besides e-mail and facebook, we were without weather forecasts, recipes and up-to-date news reports. It was very disconcerting.

It all started on Friday afternoon when the connection was suddenly lost. We had just enough time to confirm with the service provider that our account had not been shut off, (something that happens once in awhile due to clerical errors).

When we awoke on Saturday and still had no internet, we called the help line and two technicians arrived several hours later than scheduled. (At least some things are like home). When they got here, they said that our line had been cut somewhere along the way and that they wouldn't be able to repair it until Monday (gasp, horror).

Today, the technicians came back and repaired the line, but the interet still didn't work. It turned out that we needed another technician to come and set up the connection. As I said, we survived, and it helped that we had plenty of other things going on throughout the weekend.

On Friday, there was a party at the Marine house to bid farewell to our temporary Management Officer, (my temporary boss). It turned out that he was an extra in "Animal House", yes, THE "Animal House". So we all watched the movie and tried to catch glimpses of him.

On Saturday, we were supposed to go out of town to try some really good chicken place in Hissor, but that fell through thanks to the internet kerfluffle. But given that it started to snow fairly heavily in the morning, it might not have been the best time for travel anyway.

Saturday evening, we were invited over to a friend's house to do a beer tasting. We had charts to fill out to note the different characteristics, (color, aroma, taste, complexity, etc...), and rate each beer. Coupled with some delicious burritos, it was a great night.

On Sunday morning, we went to the Hyatt for brunch with most of the management team, (another farewell event), and made the most of the selection of smoked salmon, fresh fruit, omelette's, crepes, ham, bacon, pastries, and so on, and so forth. We didn't need to eat again until dinner. Despite our lack of access to Allrecipes.com, we were able to guestimate a very good corn bread to go with the pasta we cooked.

Most of all, we spent time together, which was the unexpected benefit of not having internet. We played several rounds of Scrabble and watched movies. Given the inclement weather, it turned out to be a very nice weekend.

Unfortunately, I had to ruin the niceness of the weekend with a trip to the dentist today. They're actually very professional at the place we go, but the water in the water pick is very cold and that was extremely unpleasant. Hopefully that will be my last such experience before we go back to the U.S. at the end of August.

So here we are, internet is back on and the long weekend is coming to an end. I guess, all-in-all, it's good to disconnect every once in awhile.

Fire and Ice

I guess the topic of this one should be ice and fire, but it doesn't have the same ring to it. The ice has to do with ice worms. Those of you frequenting the facebook circuit will probably have already seen this, but I have to get it in the blog for posterity.

So I was asked by our Public Affairs section to be on a selection committee for one of our grant programs. They asked me to work on the environmental proposals since I'm known for being active in that area. It's an interesting process and some really good ideas, but there have also been some funny moments that are likely due to poor translation. For example, today there was a line that proposed "to train rangers, foresters, forest-rangers and wizards."

But the one that was really interesting was about the ice worms. The proposal kind of got the whole climate change thing backwards and portrayed glaciers as the enemies of humanity rather than the other way around, and mentioned the strange phenomenon of glacier worms. Again, some mistranslations added to the humor a bit. The worms were said to be "size as youth fingers" and to "shine as ground squirrel." None of my colleagues who speak Tajik or Russian could guess what the original intent of "ground squirrel" might be.

Additionally, there was some conjecture as to the origins of these ice worms. One theory was that God was punishing the glaciers for their crimes against humanity. Another was that the ice had simply gone bad, like fruit. Otherwise, "where from come the worms?" It sounds like a good book title, doesn't it?

Anyway, by the time I finished reading the proposal, my curiosity was aroused so I consulted Wikipedia. According to that sage source of wisdom, ice worms do exist, but only in North America (I guess not). The article went on to say that ice worms have been celebrated in pop culture. To be precise, there was a folk song about them in the 1920's and 30's and a poem written about them by a Robert W. Service, titled, "The Ballad of the Ice Worm Cocktail". I'm posting his poem here as it's actually quite funny. But it's amazing that you really do learn something new every day.

To Dawson Town came Percy Brown from London on the Thames.
A pane of glass was in his eye, and stockings on his stems.
Upon the shoulder of his coat a leather pad he wore,
To rest his deadly rifle when it wasn't seeking gore;
The which it must have often been, for Major Percy Brown,
According to his story was a hunter of renown,
Who in the Murrumbidgee wilds had stalked the kangaroo
And killed the cassowary on the plains of Timbuctoo.
And now the Arctic fox he meant to follow to its lair,
And it was also his intent to beard the Artic hare...
Which facts concerning Major Brown I merely tell because
I fain would have you know him for the Nimrod that he was.

Now Skipper Grey and Deacon White were sitting in the shack,
And sampling of the whisky that pertained to Sheriff Black.
Said Skipper Grey: "I want to say a word about this Brown:
The piker's sticking out his chest as if he owned the town."
Said Sheriff Black: "He has no lack of frigorated cheek;
He called himself a Sourdough when he'd just been here a week."
Said Deacon White: "Methinks you're right, and so I have a plan
By which I hope to prove to-night the mettle of the man.
Just meet me where the hooch-bird sings, and though our ways be rude
We'll make a proper Sourdough of this Piccadilly dude."

Within the Malamute Saloon were gathered all the gang;
The fun was fast and furious, and loud the hooch-bird sang.
In fact the night's hilarity had almost reached its crown,
When into its storm-centre breezed the gallant Major Brown.
And at the apparation, with its glass eye and plus-fours,
From fifty alcoholic throats resounded fifty roars.
With shouts of stark amazement and with whoops of sheer delight,
They surged around the stranger, but the first was Deacon White.
"We welcome you," he cried aloud, "to this the Great White Land.
The Artic Brotherhood is proud to grip you by the hand.
Yea, sportsman of the bull-dog breed, from trails of far away,
To Yukoners this is indeed a memorable day.
Our jubilation to express, vocabularies fail...
Boys, hail the Great Cheechako!" And the boys responded: "Hail!"

"And now," continued Deacon White to blushing Major Brown,
"Behold assembled the eelight and cream of Dawson Town,
And one ambition fills their hearts and makes their bosoms glow -
They want to make you, honoured sir, a bony feed Sourdough.
The same, some say, is one who's seen the Yukon ice go out,
But most profound authorities the definition doubt,
And to the genial notion of this meeting, Major Brown,
A Sourdough is a guy who drinks ... an ice-worm cocktail down."

"By Gad!" responded Major Brown, "that's ripping, don't you know.
I've always felt I'd like to be a certified Sourdough.
And though I haven't any doubt your Winter's awf'ly nice,
Mayfair, I fear, may miss me ere the break-up of your ice.
Yet (pray excuse my ignorance of matters such as these)
A cocktail I can understand - but what's an ice-worm, please?"
Said Deacon White: "It is not strange that you should fail to know,
Since ice-worms are peculiar to the Mountain of Blue Snow.
Within the Polar rim it rears, a solitary peak,
And in the smoke of early Spring (a spectacle unique)
Like flame it leaps upon the sight and thrills you through and through,
For though its cone is piercing white, its base is blazing blue.
Yet all is clear as you draw near - for coyly peering out
Are hosts and hosts of tiny worms, each indigo of snout.
And as no nourishment they find, to keep themselves alive
They masticate each other's tails, till just the Tough survive.
Yet on this stern and Spartan fare so rapidly they grow,
That some attain six inches by the melting of the snow.
Then when the tundra glows to green and nigger heads appear,
They burrow down and are not seen until another year."

"A toughish yarn," laughed Major Brown, "as well you may admit.
I'd like to see this little beast before I swallow it."
"'Tis easy done," said Deacon White, "Ho! Barman, haste and bring
Us forth some pickled ice-worms of the vintage of last Spring."
But sadly still was Barman Bill, then sighed as one bereft:
"There's been a run on cocktails, Boss; there ain't an ice-worm left.
Yet wait . . . By gosh! it seems to me that some of extra size
Were picked and put away to show the scientific guys."
Then deeply in a drawer he sought, and there he found a jar,
The which with due and proper pride he put upon the bar;
And in it, wreathed in queasy rings, or rolled into a ball,
A score of grey and greasy things were drowned in alcohol.
Their bellies were a bilious blue, their eyes a bulbous red;
Their back were grey, and gross were they, and hideous of head.
And when with gusto and a fork the barman speared one out,
It must have gone four inches from its tail-tip to its snout.
Cried Deacon White with deep delight: "Say, isn't that a beaut?"
"I think it is," sniffed Major Brown, "a most disgustin' brute.
Its very sight gives me the pip. I'll bet my bally hat,
You're only spoofin' me, old chap. You'll never swallow that."
"The hell I won't!" said Deacon White. "Hey! Bill, that fellows fine.
Fix up four ice-worm cocktails, and just put that wop in mine."

So Barman Bill got busy, and with sacerdotal air
His art's supreme achievement he proceeded to prepare.
His silver cups, like sickle moon, went waving to and fro,
And four celestial cocktails soon were shining in a row.
And in the starry depths of each, artistically piled,
A fat and juicy ice-worm raised its mottled mug and smiled.
Then closer pressed the peering crown, suspended was the fun,
As Skipper Grey in courteous way said: "Stranger, please take one."
But with a gesture of disgust the Major shook his head.
"You can't bluff me. You'll never drink that ghastly thing," he said.
"You'll see all right," said Deacon White, and held his cocktail high,
Till its ice-worm seemed to wiggle, and to wink a wicked eye.
Then Skipper Grey and Sheriff Black each lifted up a glass,
While through the tense and quiet crown a tremor seemed to pass.
"Drink, Stranger, drink," boomed Deacon White. "proclaim you're of the best,
A doughty Sourdough who has passed the Ice-worm Cocktail Test."
And at these words, with all eyes fixed on gaping Major Brown,
Like a libation to the gods, each dashed his cocktail down.
The Major gasped with horror as the trio smacked their lips.
He twiddled at his eye-glass with unsteady finger-tips.
Into his starry cocktail with a look of woe he peered,
And its ice-worm, to his thinking, most incontinently leered.
Yet on him were a hundred eyes, though no one spoke aloud,
For hushed with expectation was the waiting, watching crowd.
The Major's fumbling hand went forth - the gang prepared to cheer;
The Major's falt'ring hand went back, the mob prepared to jeer,
The Major gripped his gleaming glass and laid it to his lips,
And as despairfully he took some nauseated sips,
From out its coil of crapulence the ice-worm raised its head,
Its muzzle was a murky blue, its eyes a ruby red.
And then a roughneck bellowed fourth: "This stiff comes here and struts,
As if he bought the blasted North - jest let him show his guts."
And with a roar the mob proclaimed: "Cheechako, Major Brown,
Reveal that you're of Sourdough stuff, and drink your cocktail down."

The Major took another look, then quickly closed his eyes,
For even as he raised his glass he felt his gorge arise.
Aye, even though his sight was sealed, in fancy he could see
That grey and greasy thing that reared and sneered in mockery.
Yet round him ringed the callous crowd - and how they seemed to gloat!
It must be done . . . He swallowed hard . . . The brute was at his throat.
He choked. . . he gulped . . . Thank God! at last he'd got the horror down.
The from the crown went up a roar: "Hooray for Sourdough Brown!"
With shouts they raised him shoulder high, and gave a rousing cheer,
But though they praised him to the sky the Major did not hear.
Amid their demonstrative glee delight he seemed to lack;
Indeed it almost seemed that he - was "keeping something back."
A clammy sweat was on his brow, and pallid as a sheet:
"I feel I must be going now," he'd plaintively repeat.
Aye, though with drinks and smokes galore, they tempted him to stay,
With sudden bolt he gained the door, and made his get-away.

And ere next night his story was the talk of Dawson Town,
But gone and reft of glory was the wrathful Major Brown;
For that ice-worm (so they told him) of such formidable size
Was - a stick of stained spaghetti with two red ink spots for eyes.

That's the "Ice" part of my story. The fire part happened on my way to work the other morning. Since we returned from Thailand, I've been getting back into the gym, which means heading in before sunrise. On Tuesday morning, I was crossing the main street when one of the electric buses went off the line and threw a series of bright flashes and sparks. Not an uncommon occurrence.

What was a little shocking (pun intended), was that as I was standing on the corner, waiting for a cab, a second bus tried to go around the first and also went off the line. This time, there was a much bigger fireworks show. I had to quickly hop away to avoid getting showered with fiery sparks. I guess it's just another day in the life, but it certainly jolted me out of my half-asleep state.

I still get a kick out of it when I try to put my seat belt on in the car and the drivers laugh and tell me not to worry. I always smile and tell them I'm not worried about their driving, but that you never know what the other drivers will do. That usually gets a nod of agreement and a laugh, but they never put their own seat belts on.

That's all for now. Hope you enjoyed the poetry.