Turning Lemons into Lemonade

It's that time again! I have an entire summer to have an experience of a lifetime. It has been a full year since my adventures in Turkey and Greece, and those honey-filled memories still cling to me. After some considerable difficulty, I have now planned out a new summer that I hope will be an equally amazing experience.

Since October, I had been planning on going to Mongolia with the Smithsonian Institution to work on an archaeology project. This trip was to be for 2 weeks in early July. However, in late May, the grants with National Geographic for which the Smithsonian applied did not come through, so I was left with a little over a month to plan an entire new summer. As if by miracle, I found an organization called Sub-Saharan African Adventure where I will work in Nairobi, Kenya with people with disabilities as an occupational therapist. Since I want to pursue occupational therapy as a career, I cannot think of a more perfect project.

Also, it was one of my goals for this summer to work one-on-one with people who are in need, since my longer project last summer offered a more indirect service opportunity. This is why I am so thankful that this project will provide me with career experience as well as the type of service that I have been dreaming of doing since I was told that I would be a Trinity Scholar at Duke.

In Kenya, I will be staying at a homestay and I will be helping people both in the therapy clinic and in their own homes. I also hope to go on a small safari. Before this trip, I will be travelling with my boyfriend and his family to the British Isles, which should also be a very cool trip.

So, even though life threw me some lemons when the Mongolia trip fell through at the last minute, I was able to turn them into some pretty sweet lemonade with the help of a favorable twist of fate. Here's hoping that the month I spend abroad will be packed to the brim with amazing sights and sounds and some life-changing experiences!

Leaving Greece: A Goodbye Long Awaited

When I rounded the corner in Mrs. Steen's silver Subaru that smelled of dogs and horses, the twilight had barely begun to paint the placid water of the Ionian sea the most pastel of pinks and purples. The rolling mountains of Albania were a navy silhouette on the horizon, and the 20-foot tall cross atop the old fort, dating back to the 1500's, was still casting its Christmas light glow onto the ancient foundations of the fort and the water of its moat.

Sylvia dropped me off at the airport and saw me cross through security safely before she turned away and walked back towards her car. This is the last time that I will probably ever see her--her arthritic hands, her salt and pepper hair, her bottle bottom glasses, her tanned skin worn by work, and a face that bore many deep wrinkles, which are nothing more than graceful skeletons of the smiles that she has shared with the animals and special people in her lifetime.

I boarded the plane quietly, not wishing to disturb the morning. It hurled its metal body into the sky, nearly missing the little white monastery that had been my homeland for the past two months. We rose into the air, and Corfu became a green and golden nugget in the pink and blue water. I fancied that I could reach down and pluck it up from the matrix and put it in my pocket to revisit it anytime I want.

I looked down as the island became nothing more than the green shape that I had seen on the maps prior to my trip. Wisps of mist hung over the waves and intertwined themselves into the trees and caves on the nameless beaches below. It was a scene that any photographer could have captured in all its beauty, but my heart took a snap shot of it in that morning, and I condensed all of the memories from this island--the struggles, the joys, the triumphs, the respect, the passions--into my mind's photograph.

To this day, there are still sand and stones in my purse from the beaches, and the taste of Greek honey and buttery filo still comes to mind from time to time. The island is still with me even though I didn't pluck it from its still waters to keep it as my own.

I waved goodbye as the morning sea mist swallowed Corfu in the wake of the plane, and I turned my eyes forward to the morning sun and its golden kingdom. We skimmed across the gilded heavens while Robert Frost's bittersweet prose, "Nothing gold can stay" came to my mind as we sped forward to the morning. But I knew and still know that Greece's greenest island will stay in my mind forever.

Something Simple

It was Buddha who once said, “If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” Here at The Silva Project and in other venues of civic engagement in which I have found myself in years past, the things I take away from volunteering are often the small, simple things things—not the big picture. They are like little tattoos—tiny, permanent bits of beauty that make a lasting image in my mind—important only in my mind, from my perspective. I doubt that the simple beauties that I cherish from my experience here would really be amazing to anyone else, but I think that I will share them on this blog so that I can remember how the simple things—the miracles that rest on the petals of even a single flower—ever so slightly changed my life and how I see this beautiful world in which I live.

1. Taking siestas with the windows open and the covers thrown back.
2. The little vines that curl into nature’s own confetti.
3. Forgotten poetry that crosses my daydreams or sleepy thoughts.
4. Being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet in public restaurants.
5. Saving the dogs, 3 euro at a time.
6. Watching a cerebral-palsy child, who last year could not grasp anything, hold on to a ball and throw it into a basket while on top of a horse.
7. Late-night ice cream runs.
8. The miracle of a single flower.
9. Loving words from friends and family on Skype.
10. Finding a way to sleep amidst the sounds of chickens, owls, canaries, dogs, cats, horses, and turkeys.
11. Mondays being the best days of the week.
12. Lemon scented leaves from a 700 year-old Australian Eucalyptus tree in the middle of Greece.
13. Singing Bohemian Rhapsody for my first Karaoke night.
14. Getting excited about a horse pooping all in one spot.
15. Watching fish dance at the bottom of the ocean from the rock on which I am perched.
16. Finding green bits of sea glass in the gravel shore.
17. Reading books about the South while looking at the view over the lower half of the island.
18. Catching glimpses of the ocean through the overgrown trees of the villa.
19. Fulfilling my vendetta against rats, flies, and mosquitoes from time to time.
20. The luxury of riding Captain bareback and hanging my body over his back before I slip to the ground.
21. Going to a preacher-less pink chapel on Sunday morning to learn the true meaning of spirituality from the breeze through the cypress trees.
22. Witnessing the next generation of Skyrian ponies be made.
23. Laughing with new friends about stupid, funny things.
24. Becoming breathless in the cool green water of the Ionian.
25. Fighting the monsters of the past and the horizons of the future while gazing at shooting stars at dusk.

Life is truly beautiful.
Every little miracle of it,
Drop by drop,
Fills up the jar from which we drink.

The Ark

Mrs. Steen is the president of an organization on Corfu called “The Ark.” This is an animal welfare charity that independently does a number of things to remedy the animal control issues on the island. It spays and neuters stray animals, provides healthcare to sick and poisoned animals, rescued puppies and kittens that are discarded in dustbins (a common phenomenon), re-homes animals in Greece and abroad, and developing education programs to raise awareness of animal respect in schools. However, The Ark doesn’t have a shelter of its own, and it has limited means to do these things since many people on the island do not know or care about it.

I’m telling you about The Ark so that there can be a peak of optimism in the main point of this blog post, which is to tell you that Mrs. Steen has decided to close down the dog rescue portion of The Silva Project. This did not come as a surprise to many of the long-term volunteers because they have seen first-hand the struggle that The Silva Project has had in maintaining the dogs and finding homes for them. For one, the shelter is located on a plot of land that Sylvia owns but has not yet been approved to build on. Every construction site must first be scoured by an archaeologist to make sure that there are no ruins on the site. Therefore, the shelter in and of itself is illegally set up on the land, and therefore cannot be advertised to the fullest extent. Secondly, many of the dogs escape the enclosures and kill nearby sheep and goats, which has resulted in costly replacements, stronger fences, and many times, euthanizing the dog due to their aggressive tendencies. Thirdly, very few people adopt the animals and the no-kill policy that this shelter has tried to uphold makes little room for new animals to be rescued and sheltered.

By September or October of this year, the dog shelter will be shut down and the remaining animals there will be euthanized. After this, the only form of animal control for all of the stray animals on the island will be The Ark. It is a blessing that Sylvia is also president of this organization so that she can still have a hand in rescuing and nursing stray animals back to health, but it will also be heartbreaking for her to have to close the shelter that was so long a glimmer of hope for providing some strays with a temporary home.

The idea of a venue of The Silva Project having to close its doors makes me sad—sad for the dogs who will be killed, and sad for Sylvia and how helpless she must feel—especially in the light of the conflicts that have arisen between she and her brother that threaten to shut down the project altogether. She is a strong woman and I believe in the necessity and strength of this organization, but as Brian said, “Sometimes standing in a circle and singing Kumbaya won’t make a difference”—sometimes willpower and moral fortitude is not as palpable as lawful and logistical conflicts.

So, the only method that animals can be helped on the island is through The Ark, and I think that anyone who has a special place in their hearts for animals and animal rights should make a donation to this special organization or adopt one of the animals if there is room in their home. To see the website for this organization, click here. Here, you can learn about all of the ways to help The Ark continue to treat and give loving homes to stray animals. I hope that you will at least look at the website and become aware that this issue is worldwide and, as in the case of Corfu, is in very dire need of being addressed.

Finding a Niche

As I have been observing the Skyrian ponies over the summer, and especially now that we are breeding them, I find myself thinking a lot about the future that this animal has. What is their niche in the equestrian world? What purpose do they serve to make the perpetuation of their species a worthwhile endeavor?

I think that the Skyrian pony’s most likely niche is in pony riding clubs. Pony Clubs are very popular in the United States, but especially in Europe. It is a group of small children and their ponies that go to shows together, play games with their horses, jump, and learn to ride. The Skyrian pony is a perfect choice for any small child learning to ride because they are a very gentle breed of pony that generally get along with other horses and do not spook easily. Although their evolutionary adaptation to live in the mountainous regions of Greece is not conducive with having a spectacular conformation, most of them are quite attractive and relatively low maintenance since they do not need horse shoes or startling amounts of food. The smaller children who ride in pony clubs also make a perfect clientele for the Skyrian ponies, since they should not carry a rider that weighs more than 45 to 50 kilograms (about 90 to 105 pounds).

Also, from watching these ponies in lessons, I think that they might have a future in some therapeutic riding programs. Although the fast, choppy movements of the ponies would not be effective for children like Theodora (mentioned in earlier blog post), who tense up and lost mobility with quicker movements of the horse, I think that Skyrians would be perfect for a number of other therapeutic arenas. For example, there are several children at the farm who have special needs such as blindness, deafness, hydrocephaly, autism, and dyslexia. For clients with these special needs, Skyrians would be a great way to introduce the children to grooming a horse, feeding a horse, and even riding a small pony that is easily controlled and stable. Many autistic children have had trouble warming up to their horse, which might be made easier by getting to know a smaller pony that is of the Skyrian’s stature. As I described in an earlier blog post, Silverstar, one of our Skyrians, was used in a therapeutic riding lesson a few weeks ago while a child lead her around the ring and lunged her. This was a worthwhile exercise for him to learn how to control the horse and be cognizant of its movements, and it was also significant because The Silva Project began exploring the new frontier of using small ponies for therapeutic riding lessons.

Overall, I think that the Skyrian pony’s purpose in the equestrian field exists and that their breed is yet to be fully welcomed into pony riding clubs and therapeutic riding programs. Sylvia and The Silva Project itself has tirelessly publicized the usefulness of these ponies in Greece and in Europe, and I hope that the American volunteers might be able to spread the word to their respective farms and pony clubs in the States about The Silva Project and their special breed of ponies.

Creating the Next Letter

The farm has been a sanctuary of noise for the past couple days because The Silva Project has started to put the mares in foal. Of the three stallions that are at the farm, we plan to have at least seven mares be pregnant before the winter. As of now, a black stallion named Vangellis has been paired with a brown mare named Stacy, but just the presence of a male near all of the ladies has caused quite a commotion! Throughout the night and day, the slightly unsettling sounds of the mare squealing at the stallions (and vice versa) pierce the humid air. Horses in paddocks on either side of the “brooding paddock” also flock to the fence that they share to flirt and wail at the stallion as well.

However, Stacy is having nothing to do with Vangellis at the moment. It is slightly reminiscent of “Gone with the Wind” (which I watched for the first time this week!), because Stacy, like Scarlett, puts on airs and struts over to Vangellis to woo him. When he finally notices her, she promptly turns around, kicks him in the face, and trots away. Vangellis, being the persistent gentleman that he is, simply waits until Stacy figures out that she loves him, but not before being distracted by all of the other mares that would be throwing themselves at him if there were not a fence.

This is an exciting time because The Silva Project did not produce any foals for the past year and a half due to lack of space to house them. Hopefully in a little more than a year, there will be new babies that will perpetuate the goals of The Silva Project. A poster on the wall of the barn serves as a constant reminder of the progress the project has made so far, and of the progress that is yet to be made. At the top of the chart are the original mares that stared at the Villa Silva, all named after gemstones. Second on the list are the three stallions, and then the rest of the list are all of the babies that have been born since The Silva Project began in 1998—the names of the babies produced every couple years correspond with letters in the name of The Silva Project. The list is the following:

First Mares: Lapis, Ruby, Pearly, Rose, Emily, Erato, and Sapphire

Stallions: Leonidas, Vangellis, Ikaros

Babies produced since then:

S—Sam, Shaun, Samantha, Sandra, Silverstar, Sophie, Stacey, Sunshine

I—Ianthi, Indi, Ioli, Iris, Isabella, Ivor, Iggy

L—Linda, Loukas

V—Vamoos, Velvet, Victorus

A—Allie, Angel, Aeolos, Alfie

The word “Project” is yet to have names corresponding to it, but I am already thinking of names that start with “P” (Penelope, Plato, Philip, Pegasus, Page, Pam, Paris…) in hopes that we will have all seven to name by this time next year! I’m excited to see the beginning of a new generation of Skyrian ponies!

Laws and Ethics

The Villa Silva is shared by two people: Mrs. Steen and her brother. When Mrs. Steen’s father bought the land, he kept it in the family but did not write to whom the land should go in his will before he died. By Greek tradition and law, the land naturally went to the father’s first born son. However, since Mrs. Steen needed a farm in which to house The Silva Project, she moved into the old house on the property and established herself in the community of Corfu. However, about the same time that The Silva Project began, Mrs. Steen’s brother began renovating the second house on the villa.

This second house is comically referred to as “The Bond House” by the volunteers. Bond, James Bond. In fact, portions of the 1981 “James Bond: For Your Eyes Only” film was shot on the property, especially on the immaculate lawn and breathtaking “bella vista” (pictured below) that belongs to Silvia’s brother’s claimed side of the property. Silvia’s brother rents out this house to people of James Bond’s financial stature at a ridiculous price of $4000 per night. According to Captain George, the price is so steep because the clientele who rent this house often bring hoards of live-in servants, which, of course, heightens the cost.

There is a stark difference between Silvia’s side of the property and the Bond side, mainly because thousands of dollars per week are spent manicuring the lawn and maintaining the house on her brother’s side, while Mrs. Steen spends thousands of dollars per week on feeding the horses and maintaining The Silva Project. And, as I’m sure you can imagine, after spending $4000 to enjoy each day at the Bond house, many of the snooty guests do not appreciate the cacophony of chicken’s clucking, birds chirping, turkeys gobbling, 21 dogs barking, and horses whinnying that emanates from Silvia’s side of the property throughout the day and night. As a result, conflicts have emerged between Silvia and her brother that threaten Silvia’s right to the land, and ultimately, The Silva Project itself.

Just this week, her brother locked the front gate of the property and changed the code so that Silvia could not enter. She was forced to call the police and have them take care of the situation since it is not lawful for anyone to lock her out of her own house. It eventually turned out that the brother wanted Silvia and all of the volunteers to use the back driveway because it was too much of a disturbance for her to be driving and us to be walking so close to the rental house. Although the law was in favor of Silvia this time, there is no law that supports that she has the right to the land on which she lives—there is a law that allows that her brother has every right to ask her to leave and take the horses and dogs with her.

If this were to happen, Mrs. Steen’s brother would sell Silvia’s portion of the land to a nearby hotel, which would no doubt tear down the 200 year-old house, farm, and guest house, no doubt turning it into a botanical garden, featuring some of the rarest and most mysterious species of trees and plants that there are to see. But at what cost? The hotel spends millions of dollars to buy the property, Silvia’s brother kicks her off the land and severs any familial ties whatsoever to her, The Silva Project withers away. The cost of this potential situation is beyond money.

I have asked Silvia what she plans to do, and she says matter-of-factly that this is the way it always has been and always will be. I just worry for the long-term of The Silva Project, and I hope that it can establish itself more fully in the community in the upcoming years so that the non-tourists on island of Corfu will rally behind one of the defining organizations that preserves their island’s beauty, nature, and civic engagement. Ultimately, I hope the community will learn to stand behind The Silva Project and it's ethical imperative rather than the hollow agendas of the laws that dictate its intrusion on the first-born son's land.