A Choice To Be Human...

I would be at risk of losing my own humanity if I turned a blind eye to what is happening...

I choose not to get political. For me this is an issue about our own personal humanity as it plays out on the world stage.

It is not the California Gold Rush of 1859. But the consequences are more real and all-encompassing... What is happening currently in the Ecuadorian Amazon with indigenous tribes and the rush for black gold is this same mentality we have suffered under for several hundred years...

In 1996 I received a degree in Native American studies from Humboldt State University. I was asked again recently why I chose this program - if I had no native blood in me that I knew of. After some deep and meditative soul-searching a voice from somewhere came through me and stated, "To understand what it means to be human."

Conversely, the reality of what indigenous studies brings is an incredible dialogue with what it means to lose one's humanity through the process of dehumanization.

Vacuum Domicilium, Requirimiento, Manifest Destiny, genocide, paternalism, domestic dependent nations - the list goes on and on with words and definitions that have helped create a climate where dehumanization can take place... When you study this it can be massively depressing because you realize just how white-washed history has been because it is written by the victors - since childhood so many of us have been lied to about so much of what took place in the land-grab by imperialist European nations since 1492. It took until college and dialogue with natives that had lived through the boarding school era and whose parents were legally banned from practicing their religion, and great grandparents that had been indentured servants (slaves) - or murdered methodically for gold or land, to gain a comprehension of this incredibly dark history. I can no longer use the excuse that I suffer from the delusions of politically warped written histories or historical amnesia.

The past can inform the present - but are we learning? Are we capable of applying what we have learned?

I will say 'living history' because our history still has sway over current realities. It is not merely the open wound of memory that still bleeds out on the reservations across the United States - a wound that still lives in the minds and hearts of much of the population. Dehumanization is alive and well as is the intentioned process of it. Short-term profits by way of resource extraction at any cost are still with us. We are living our bleakest history. Resources are still worth much more than cultures and human lives - autonomy to choose is taken away, lives are still being destroyed and snuffed out for profits. I am confident that the repercussions of turning a blind eye and allowing wholesale resource blowout to commence will resonate and ripple across the globe as one more dangerous step we will collectively take toward loosing our humanity...

As I rambled across the blog-o-sphere I came across a post that literally shattered my somewhat insulated and comfortable Boulder Colorado existence. It brought 10 years of the maelstrom of academia flooding back at me in just seconds... This blog post is perhaps more relevant/immediate/imperative today then it was two years ago when it was posted... Caroline Bennett (great last name, which by the way means "blessed" which is a nice sentiment) is a storyteller with her camera and with her words... Her personal experience with the people and players in the Ecuadorian Amazon make this piece particularly transcendent...

Caroline Bennett's work reminds me that we all have a choice - to be human, or not...

The Vision Quest

It was one of those days today... An all too uncommon day, where you meet someone unexpectedly that helps distort and shift perceptions - a day with events as catalyst to re-evaluate and re-tool definitions of self, the world - and what is possible...

I was tasked with helping a young woman realize her "vision" and convey her to possible locations to view an eagle in the wild... We had four hours. I think I had seen one bald eagle since moving here 9 months ago. I admit, I was a bit intimidated by this challenge...

While enduring recovery post-operation, and dealing with the new challenges of an extremely rare disease that can bring visions, she saw an eagle. An eagle with mountains as backdrop. In this vision this place was connected to her road to recovery, a healing dream... After researching photos she realized this stretch of Rockies matched what she thought she had seen from the hospital bed...This brought her from 2,000 miles away to Boulder, a place she had not been.

We drove east, with views of the Rockies at our backs... I really think she had called birds to her. 10 minutes out of Boulder, on Arapaho bouldevard, a huge golden eagle swooped skyward and across the path of the vehicle. But it was the bald eagle of her vision...

I could only imagine what this young woman was enduring internally - its like your body has been taken over by some new unknown being, not me she confided... Yet her smile and positivity were infectious. I never would have known.

As we drove to the end of the road at Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge she was thrilled with the tangle of deer in tall grass, the chirping scatter of prairie dogs, the effortless soaring of red tails and ferruginous hawks... But still, there were no bald eagles...

At the locked gate we could go no further. I parked. I climbed on top of the van with the camera and the zoom lens. I think she spotted it first. A large nest in the cottonwoods several hundred yards north. No sign of birds though. I snapped an image of the nest at full zoom. I climbed down the ladder to show the screen to her. We magnified the image of the nest. Peeking into the blue, beyond the edge of the latticed sticks, was a distinct white feathered head.  The bald eagle was sitting on her eggs...

Flagstaff Mountain

Escaped into the woods for a few hours above Boulder today... Cool things happen out there beyond the hairpin guardrails and beneath the ponderosa pines of Flagstaff Mountain...

Horse Acculturation...

As I live on a farm/ranch with many horses as my neighbors, I have taken a latent interest in spending a bit of time with them and trying to capture some compelling imagery. I am beginning to get a sense of the horse culture and the unique personalities of each horse. Its been a good education.

Here are a few more images from yesterdays visit to the vet...

Pervasive Calm

Imagine a confined space - inside a barn. Three medium-large sized dogs, three full grown horses. Pervasive calm is not the description that first springs to mind... But it held sway for some four hours while Sydney filed Spirit's teeth, and needles and chiropracting (and quite a bit of horse whispering) were applied to all three horses...

When I went into the barn this morning that is just south of Hudson Colorado, my first question to Dr. Diane Wagner the vet was, "Is this where the magic happens?" Her response was simply, "That's a kind way to put it."

Through the course of the day Carol and Sue each brought their horses outside. They jogged and twirled. Assessments of gait were made...

And magic did happen...

Excerpts From The National Experience II

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Car washers at QTA...

October 13^th

I heard from the Avis washers at QTA this evening that there was a gun-flashing car thief - stealing a Camry first that was nearly out of gas. He then swapped it for another rental and blew the tires out on tiger teeth driving the wrong way out of the lot. Then he jumped out and showed his gun to an Avis driver and took that car and drove it through the wash and successfully escaped the labyrinth of overpasses and lots of the storied parking structure and the seven different rental agencies housed there.

Strangely, being a driver/hiker was likely one of the most dangerous and physical jobs I have had. It kept my attention and kept me alert during times of intense rain and in icy conditions. I learned to take depth cues quite well, not seeing stereoscopically…  I learned by mistakes… “crashed” more cars than I can count. Cars were totaled by other drivers while I was there…  Employees run down and sent to the hospital by other employees. One reason I assume that we made such a low wage was because insurance to cover the vehicles for each employee as driver was quite high. Every car had a value of 15 to 60k. After the fourth crash that management new about you were let go…

The on duty manager told me it was all too common to have cars stolen. His theory was that drug dealers knew there were easy cars to snatch at the airport rental lots - they could then do their drug deals and ditch the cars – or they were quickly sold over the border. This was the reasoning for installing the 60 new security cameras on the National portion of the PDX rental world – And for requiring each employee to sign an agreement that would let an outside agency aggressively dig into every corner of their employees lives. If we did not sign we were told in so many words that we would loose our jobs and were given a date to do so… I never signed but was continually persuaded to… Because I liked working hard I think they saw reason to let this slide. This document was not provided in any language other than English as far as I know… I asked John, a betel chewing Pacific Islander with permanently purple stained lips, if the union rep had been involved to explain to the high number of employees that did not speak English as a first language what they were exactly signing… “Union rep just said sign - I trust her. I need job.”

Dec. 12^rd

The back office today had a newly tacked bulletin that I read today as I clocked in… 4 armed and dangerous rental car thieves had been stealing Avengers… I asked the manager, who was trying to figure out the new video monitoring system, if we were getting guns to protect ourselves… He pretended to ignore me… Jamalo then walked in, taking advantage of his break to cover a bit of ground and stretch his legs and walk from QTA to the office…He saw the spaghetti like wires and Jay’s head stuck in the newly converted closet to video cabinet. He said to Jay, “You watching me all day long?” “All day Jamalo, that's all I do.” I asked Jamalo if had seen the bulletin and said you gotta tackle them if u see them… “Hell no! I say please take the car and don't hurt me. Then I call it in. My kid need to grow up with a father.”

It became clear the managers were thinking these car-jackings could have a connection to current employees…

September 23^rd

A phone went missing - the customer thought he left it in a Dodge Charger he had just rented. Kelsey asked me to check at QTA. Ablaq helped me look briefly and we couldn't find it so I him and just drove it back to the customer for him to search. The customer found it wedged between the seat and console. When I returned to QTA Ablaq asked? "You find?" He was relieved. "I no steal because god watching. In my country they cut off hand first, then leg so I learn very young, no steal. Three times I find money in car I bring to manager…” 

When I could, I would work helping push cars through the wash with the Ethiopians, Somalis, Pacific Islanders… They had hard and physical jobs, dealing with chemicals, gasoline... I attempted to ease the seeming endless tide of cars that would come through in a shift so that by evening if/when it slowed I could sit in the break room with them and hear stories…

Stories of other lives, when they were younger in Africa, Turkey, in the service in Iraq, stories of the easy life under communism in the Ukraine…

November 22nd

“People were strong. Lots of fresh fruit, not like today, kids with diabetes – all the fat, sugar...” Ablaq today shared that he had friends in Somalia that went crazy. “One, as a boy his mother raped and shot in front of him. Now he talks to himself. Al-Shabob... A new government they say buy still not strong enough to control tribes. People not smart, no school so kill for no reason. My country in war for 22 years, man.” Somalia does not sound like a happy place. He says he hopes he lives long enough to see it balance. "If the government good the country good." Ablaq came here at 16 and had to work right away to support his much younger brother who is now in the military. "I never want to kill anyone. Not for me." I would later learn that much of his family had been murdered in Somalia which prompted his father to send his two remaining sons to the US under refugee status…

I looked forward to my “history lessons”, as told by those had lived through pieces of incredibly difficult times. "Somalia was colonized by the British in Djibouti in the south and in the north where I am from by the Italians, France had the other third. And many tribes - too many. All three of us right here we from different tribes. We all speak Somali but they might not understand some words in my dialect. We are a crazy mixed up people man. We all Muslim so we learn Arabic but that's not our language." For awhile I had wondered what the piece of cardboard was for, wedged between the wall and employee lockers in the break room… It was a makeshift carpet used for prayer…

Southern Andes Again...

As head explodes from sinus pressure I have too much time to wander vicariously across the Southern Andes via instagram... too many friends currently there and posting epic images... (You bastards - you know who you are!)

Its been a year since I was there. My ghost still wanders the trails beneath Cerro Torre and Fitz Roy. I can still feel and hear the wind blasts through the alerces trees in Torres del Paine, taste the coca leaves on my tongue in Iruya. I need to go back and collect a piece of my splintered heart left on a spire in Cerro Cathedral...

These are a few of my favorite memories... The bird that had no voice, endless yerba mate, the brothers of Iruya, rainbows in the dark, worthless money, spinning clouds catching colors beyond description...

Tomorrow's Sunrise...

Sometimes the sun rises twice in a day at the same location. It doesn't happen very often. In fact, I cannot remember it happening more than this once - But on this day it did. Curious.

How many sunrises have I missed? Does it matter when I can enjoy this one?

The anticipation of tomorrow's sunrise holds a twinge of excitement for me.

What will the clouds be doing? How many layers of cloud will reveal themselves at altitudes, and how much of the visible spectrum will I see upon the shifting canvas? 

There seems to be a sweet spot to every sunrise... The exact moment when color becomes the most electric and the most varied. Cold air pushed earthward not long before, but now forgotten... in the fading of dark to dawn, from the ache of black into the promise of periwinkle blue... Eyes and heart pulled skyward. Magic.

The trick will forever engage me. Especially when it happens twice...

Bouldering...

Got a good schooling today on hard bouldering... Not by doing it but by shooting it. Respect.

Excerpts from The National Experience...

The following are some excerpts from journals I wrote on my iPhone while working - a long-term project I am calling The National Experience... 

It shares a bit of my struggles and illuminations working in the corporate world, at the bottom rung, and sharing a bit of the voices of the unforgettable individuals I met there while working at the Portland International Airport from July of 2012 to February of 2013...

The National Experience ©Bennett Barthelemy

Retrospect…

It has been two weeks since my last day with National. In some ways I miss it terribly. It was a place of transformation for me and an experience I am grateful to have had. More than anything it taught me how strong and adaptable the human spirit can be, by sharing in the intense realities of the Ukranians, Russians, Ethiopians, Turks, Somalis that work there… It was an illuminating mix of uneducated, of misanthropic, of Muslims, of Christians, of ever-shifting managers, part-timers, of suited service agents - those whose lives delicately balance at the fringe, living paycheck to paycheck and one icy slip away from bankruptcy…There were Ethiopians that spoke five languages and had advanced degrees working for minimum wage. Deeq has 10 kids and supports them on the salary he makes, while Abdi worked two full time jobs to support his family... Jill's husband fell here at work and shattered his elbow, and despite the two of them having worked here for years and full-time (Jill also was pulling in hours at The Dollar Store too) they were looking at potential bankruptcy...

I filed my own bankruptcy while I worked there. I was eventually working full time, but filling in for Piotr, a Ukrainian out on medical leave - which meant I still got no health benefits, no raise. The currency to feed the spirit is what I ultimately came away with -- minimum wage keeps everyone in poverty -- but the richness that these men and women shared from their lives captivated me. Many honorable and highly intelligent individuals are at work there. Where is the Carl Sandberg of our generation? Who speaks for the working class and who listens? What is happening to the shrinking unions? Is Bruce Springsteen reaching anyone or preaching to a small choir? It seems the legacy of this blue-collar job has also left with many questions…

August 12, 2012

This multi-storied concrete and steel parking garage and the adjacent parking lots have become my work universe for 24 hours a week at $8.80 an hour. Myself and perhaps 100 others work for the car rental agencies who’s counters and cars are housed immediately across the six one way lanes of Airport Way and the terminals. Essentially I was hired through Enterprise but since EAN owns the other two brands I become a floater for all three but answer to the National PDX managers and to their assistants who make my work schedule and tell me which stalls to park the cars in, when to go upstairs for dirties (dirty cars from Enterprise), when to stay at QTA(no one knows what this stands for) and help the car washers push cars through. They tell me when to jump in with driver/shuttlers. The driver shuttlers, as opposed to hikers like me, are generally the less fit and/or less ambitious employees that work with a chase van and head to remote lots for transiting vehicles to and from distant overflow parking or down to Alamo for repairs.

Nobody speaks the Queen’s English here, or American for that matter – most communication seems to be via secret code, which is why I imagine they find it easy to hire so many non-English speaking, or partially English literate internationals. If it is not English than its Ukrainian, Russian, Amharic, Tamil… It kind of reminds of Dubai, where well over 70 percent of the workforce population is imported. The PDX percentage of internationals flip-flops dramatically of course in any type of magagement position or if customer contact is required. If you wear a suit your chance of being an American born English speakers seems to goes up to about 90%. in the microcosm that is PDX. Dubai gets ranked as one of the world’s number one cities for employment. Portland is about dead last I am realizing... often getting ranked on par with Detroit, one of the most challenging cities in the country for employment...

Sept 7, 2012
When I am not collecting quotes from the crazy array of individuals here at work

I am a continual daydreamer on my own flights of fancy to distant and sometimes ancient locales, anywhere but here. I imagine the planes that continually zing overhead as arrows shot from some great Turkish bow like the ones I had seen in Topkapi Palace. Record flight in Ottoman Period said to be 845 meters, roughly half a mile – nearly 3x what a European longbow of only wood could do. Light with high velocity. Turkish bows were a blend of bone and wood. Derived from the Mongul bow. Genghis Khans brother’s (or his brothers son depending upon which account you read) is said to have shot a target at 335 alds or 536 meters. Eagle feathers from just the right part of the bird, just the perfect angle and height of fletching, birch. For the bad rap they get as barbarians they were sure meticulous when it came to warring.

Feb 3 2013

"Bennett, Bennett, Bennett", Misfien shouted when he saw me at work today. "In four months we have son we call Bennett. My wife she loves the name. We tap her belly and say 'hi Bennett!'". I told Misfien my last day was to be Tuesday. He was a bit upset. "Why you leave? When you come back?" I told him I was traveling and moving to Colorado. He said, "When you go to Ethiopia? I go next year. You come, pay transportation and stay with me. You pay nothing else."

Feb 5 2013

I bought Deeq and Abdi "real" coffee from Starbucks today instead of the Folgers that was always in short supply in the break room. Abdi and Deeq thanked me and Abdi said, "We miss you, man." I told them I would miss all their great stories. "One day when you go Africa you remember Abdi." I told him that when I see lions I will remember his story of his grandfather. He excitedly shared it again... "When he kill lion he cut lion's hair and put on his door, nobody ever bother him. Very strong, 7-feet tall. World changing now. New generation like me, afraid of lion. They used to wrap cloth on arm very big and put in lion mouth. When he bite they come with knife and stab under neck."

Gabe, who works for National, takes a break from washing cars...

Ir-responsible Journalism...

Supertopo.com has had a pretty interesting thread recently about responsible journalism regarding treatment of rock climbing and its legality on the Navajo Reservation sparked by the current issue of Rock and Ice Magazine...  I posted my short article at SuperTopo I wrote some three years ago for Climbing Magazine on the same topic... Really good dialogue happening, getting a lot of climbers thinking critically about their actions and its effects on cultures outside our own... 

My stance is still the same. I have not climbed on the Reservation, nor do I plan to...

Perpetually Leaving...

Difficult equation to live. The more I am inside, the more I want to be outside... The more I shoot photos outside, the more time I need to spend inside with my quarry. A strange flip-flop between two distinct worlds. Consuming.

Need to forever be enjoying the unfolding eternal moment - But the batteries recharge away from all the outlets and beyond the squinting haze of screen and keyboard strokes while hidden inside walls. I need to wander new trails in ancient forests, climb cracks in desert sunshine, call the sky my roof again...

I often feel I am perpetually leaving... Never quite sitting still, a move or two ahead at least in thought. In the moment yet outside of it and transiting to the next...

One day perhaps I will find the comfort, contentment, joy in the act of being anchored... Maybe.

Boulder Lockdown...

Snow, ice, -25 temps with the windchill... Dreaming of desert towers, t shirt weather and spring time sojourns with old friends as I look at the pile of lonely trad gear on the closet floor... Difficult for a Southern California kid to count the hours away while in the deep-freeze, awaiting warmer climes and climbs.

From my home office I have been firing up my traveling armchair across India to Kathmandu, Iran, and Turkey as I archive 2000 slides from a bygone era... The travel bug is infecting me deeply...

Devi then added fuel to my nomadic fire by preparing haemul pajeon - its a Korean seafood pancake but I think the direct translation is "awesome".

Carol and Shambu

One evening last week, as the snowstorm was about to descend, I spent some time with Carol and her horse Shambu. They are my neighbors. We all share the same magical piece of real estate in the shadow of the Rockies.

There is bond that is forged between horse and owner that I was aware of on a cerebral level - with Carol and Shambu it is undeniable. I hope to get to photograph with them again to try to capture a better sense of it...