Four months of winter: part one

                                

Its been a few days since I arrived in schooleys mountain, NJ, and despite the lack of very much civilization and electricity, the experience has been very welcoming.

Upon arriving in the Newark airport, after a long flight and much trouble with communication, I met a man named martin. Martin was an elderly gentleman who wasn’t the most welcoming, but what he lacked in warmness, he made up for in passion. He had a passion for science, almost everything he talked about he somehow related to science. Even after expressing some disinterest in the subject, and particular interest in writing fiction, he went on and on about how you could be a scientist and write patents and formulas and whatnot. As this mostly one-sided conversation progressed I stared out the window, noticing the effects that hurricane sandy had had on new Jersey. On or near every road there was a downed tree and multiple power lines pulled down from their places. There were only a few houses that trees had fallen through, but the biggest problem was made clear when I arrived at martins house.  No power…now in Hawaii that’s not a big deal, but here you have to consider that it’s the middle of November and winter is on its way. A lot of houses depend on electricity for heat and ever-precious water. The dim situation was almost immediately forgotten by the effervescent reception of martin’s wife. She ushered me into the beautifully decorated house (all old German trinkets and statues) and was brought into a room lit by a single candle. She immediately went to the kitchen and began making me coffee. She never stopped talking, an endless storehouse of stories, all fairly mediocre but delivered with such gusto that one had no choice but to listen.  

Because of communication problems I would not be able to make it to schooley’s mountain that night, so another family agreed to put me up for the night. Rosie and yohannase were the next people I met. Rosie was sweet and reminded me of a stereotypical italian-american grandmother, always secretly searching for sympathy, but gives the “never mind” hand gesture if ever she receives some. Yohannase was a hard working gent, most of the time down in his basement sharpening chainsaws, beyond that I learned little about him. After rosie cleared a room and made a bed for me (and complained about her back the entire time) I thanked her for going to so much trouble and turned in for the night. I heard a strange thump outside during the night, which startled me, but I thought nothing of it. In the morning I learned from Rosie that a raccoon had been going through the trash outside my window, which explained the thump. She then asked if I liked blueberry pancakes and I promptly answered, “yes!” so she got out blueberries and began the process, but I made the mistake of asking a question. She ended up sitting at the table talking for about 30 minutes about her grandson or something rather, honestly I didn’t expect such a thorough answer so I stopped paying attention half way through, simply nodded and said “interesting” at random intervals.  The pancakes were good, but I wasn’t too hungry because the long flights had messed with my stomach. Despite being full, Rosie told me to keep eating, and by the time I was done, I was uncomfortably full.

Once we left the house for Schooleys, I saw many gas stations along the way with cars lined up for miles, policemen were at every gas station, trying to discourage any riot-like outbreaks that were reported earlier. Gas was at a premium; It still is ten days later.

 Upon arriving at Schooleys I immediately recognized the big pond out front, bordered with cattails and other tall grain-like plants. I remember fishing all day and night in that pond when I was 12 with no bait, just for the heck of it. We drove around back of the big mission house, which is sortof the centerpiece of the mountain. I met dan when I stepped out of the car. He gave me a “nice to meet you” and sortof an unsure look before showing me to my apartment. I found that no other guy here has long hair, which was probably the reason for his unsurity. The compound in our vicinity is made up of 5 buildings, the main mission house, my apartment, a long storage house and 2 other houses with multiple apartments; my place has three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. We have water so the bathroom is usable but nothing can be made in the kitchen as of now, and of course there’s no heat. Fortunately the main house has a generator that is hooked up so hot food and hot water is possible there as well as heat. I don’t remember which order I met everyone else in, but here’s the rundown:

Ryan, the epitome of a lumberjack if ever there was one, big, strong, bearded and his loud laugh fills the hillside often, he was the only gopher of the bunch until I arrived. We work together daily.

Heidi: ryan’s wife has a thick southern accent like ryan, which gives her the appearance of being tough as nails but is quite an emotional creature behind the iron mask, she is pregnant and has one daughter, almost 2 (her name is kali ann).

Nancy: dan’s wife, loving and homely, always seems to be a part of the group when shes not working. Tommy: anti-social, prefers to be alone and appreciates the outdoors more than anyone. Everyone calls him “tomahawk tom” or “tommy hatchet” because he removed the limbs of 3 pine trees with just a hatchet, even with a readily available chainsaw nearby, He’s still at work on more trees.

then there’s ralph, the director of the retreat ministry here, and the boss until bill comes back. He likes to sit in his office a lot and read books, sometimes all day. When he does join the group he is interesting to talk to, and is more knowledgeable then he looks, ryan tells me he is a chemical engineer and is actually quite wealthy.

Marie ann: ralphs wife is not a U.S. citizen and actually lives in Norway, shes almost always smiling and knitting away on the couch, she appears to be taller than almost everyone but in no way does she “look down” on anyone. 

Norman: elderly gent who loves to give you a warm smile when he walks in the room, almost always wearing a fedora or fishing hat. he likes to fish, on second thought, he LOVES to fish, its his passion. Every word of advice he gives is wise and every story he tells warms the soul.