Kota Kinabalu

It's hard to begin writing about a wonderful Work/Spring Break Vacation. Sounds funny doesn't it? My school thought it would it be a great idea to plan our Spring Break during the
EARCOS Confernce in Kota Kinabualu (aka KK), Borneo. Yes, I know, it's Borneo what am I whining about? But still I had to work 3 out of the 10 days on vacation. So i decided that the conference is all on my terms. I left Tokyo on the 21st of March and planned to stay until the 29th. How I needed that break. I felt I was going to explode if had to spend another day in the massive city without a feeling of being lost in nature. So it was on a plane to Borneo.

I knew it was going to be a great time because I was going to see some good old friends from Warsaw. I knew I would see Jeremy, Jill, Chip and Lillian, Paul and Amanda Jacob and to my suprise Sally. I had not seen most of them for two years and having a great reunion together in the middle of the Malaysia was an ideal location. We met out for drinks and spent some good times together as well. It made me really miss Poland and my friends who are still there. So to those of you reading, lots of love for you.










For the first day I sat at the pool side and drank up some beer and relaxed. I met some nice new people from my school. I hadn't met many from the main campus but did meet Steve, Peter and Glenda. I had a great time with them and hope to keep seeing them. But, the main campus is so far away it's tough but i will make it happen. Later on I met others from all over the world and had a wonderful time talking, laughing, singing and being happy. Most of you know me pretty well and are saying "figures, you always meet so many people". I am a social butterfly and I was feeling very good buzzing around talking and enjoying life. I hadn't done that in a long time.

Now, one of my highlights of the trip was going to dive on Mantanani Island. Oh my! If this place isn't heaven then I don't know what is. We took a nice skid across the bay for about an hour to arrive on a dive shop, restaurant and rooms to rent stilted in the middle of the ocean. Not on the beach. Just out in the middle surrounded by water and islands. So amazing. If I had known about that before I left Tokyo I would have stayed there for 3 days diving and living the life without electricity, phones and computers. If you want to know where the place is and feel the need to get away send me a message and I will give you the contact. I don't want to put up a link cause it needs to stay secluded and peaceful. I hope it never changes. The diving was good and I saw some wonderful creatures. I am so happy I took the classes in Bali. It's changed my life and my outlook on life. Being out in the middle of nowhere was so wonderful. Blue skies, blue water, beautiful people, wonderful food and Peace and Quiet. Maybe the best place I'd been in a long time...OK 4 months. I hope to be there again or someplace like it soon.
When I was out on the Mari Mari Lodge I met this great traveler name Carlo. He was out there hanging out for a few days and just relaxing. We talked and enjoyed traveling stories and laughed about how crazy people are in the cities. Getting away from the world and life outside of nature is something I need as often as possible. We said our farewells and said to each other "I hope to see you again."

About two day later I decided to take a trip to Mount Kota Kinabalu to do some birding and hiking alone with a guide. Before I go on I must say this was the first time going birding on my own and I am so happy my friends Ken, Rhonda, Kat and Coletrain turned me onto this wonderful world. A lot of you know I am from Kansas and born and raised as a hunter. Listen, looking for birds and not shootin' them was hard and a very different for me, but realized now that my hunting life is over thanks to these wonderful friends. Well, at least until i get back to Kansas in the Fall, which may never happen. Anyway, this guide I hired, CK is an amazing guide. You can reach him at Borneo Birds if you are in the area and need to get out. I won't go into the names and species but I did some some amazing birds that can only be found on that mountain. I really enjoyed my time in the mountains and wished I had more time. Hoping for more time will become a repeated pattern in this post. After finishing up hike and heading to the truck for another site who do I see walking down the stairs? Carlo!!
There is was again just as we said to each other meeting again. Funny how life works and throws good people back your way. It's proves what I have said many times to many poeple "Whenever I look over my shoulder to the places I have left, I always know someone has helped change my outlook on life."

People People and more People on my vacation. I have a friend, Ellen in Bangkok who told me some good people were coming to the conference. She told me I should try to find them. So one day out in the pool I see 5 lovely ladies swimming and decide to approach and see what's going on and sure enough, it' Ellen's friends from Bangkok. We talked, drank, laughed and made plans for the Happy Hour evening provided by the conference. We all met up and planned a night out after the free drinks and set out for a good time on the city of KK. When getting out of the taxi and going to the bar I hear from behind, "Hey, do you know Heidi Laffey?" Heidi is a friend who works in Warsaw. After some searching through my brain and talking I realize this is Nancy from Zagreb who worked with Heidi in Mexico. We had met 4 years before at a conference in Croatia. Crazy huh? We talked and she introduced me to a great person, Jen. Soon after meeing I learned Jen worked with the Schwartz family in Hong Kong and was new in Bangkok. We had a great time together for a few days and once again I hoped I had more time but i had to catch a flight back. I hope to see Jen and Nancy again in Bangkok real soon. It might be sooner than they think it could be tomorrow so be ready ladies.

This international world of teaching is a very small world and I love it. If you have ever thought about getting out of you routine and day to day life then CHANGE IT. I beg you to do it. If it's not traveling then it needs to be something. Just make the change. It was the best choice of my life. Look at this view. Could I have ever seen it if I was still teaching in Kansas? Glad I never had to find out.

It's Return to Korea 60 Years Later.

I must say that I am getting pretty bad and updating. I need to get reminders from you faithful readers to drop me a line and tell me to get off my but and start telling stories.

So here's one from a month ago.

I had a few days off in February and decided to take a break from Tokyo.  It was a tough choice at first to decide where to go but by the title of this post I am sure you can figure out on your own where I went.  I decided to go see my good friend Dawn Melarvie who teachers in Seoul.  She and I worked together in Warsaw and have stayed in touch over the years. My final decision was influenced by another important person in my as well. My Uncle Gene who, to me, is what a man' man is all about. I could go off on many stories about how amazing he was and how much he taught me throughout my life. But, I think I will stick to this story today.
My Uncle Gene passed away 2 years ago. This is My Aunt Seenie and Uncle Gene. How I miss them so much. I hope to see Seenie when I am home this summer. Uncle Gene was a retired Air Force Master Sargent fought in the Korean War. Besides being in the Air Force he also served in the Army and the Navy before finding his place in the Air Force. I don't know many stories about Uncle Gene and the war. I wish I had talked to him about it but it was something I felt should be left alone. War was a hard thing for him. During the Vietnam Conflict his only son Keith was killed and it was a major blow to him. So, bringing up any type of war stories would bring on memories of Keith and I didn't want him to have to show me the pain.

The thing that made my decision for me besides Gene and Dawn was an old Air Force Parka. This parka, which I have now, belonged to my Grandfather. My Grandfather, Ira Bughman, wore it during the winter time on the farm in Kansas. To this day it still has grain from Grandpa's farm in the pockets. It really brings me back to my childhood and fishing on the farm. Well, this parka was a gift from Uncle Gene to Grandpa. Gene told him it would keep him warm on the cold winter days in January. When Grandpa died I remember saying I want to have that coat. It's something that is very important to me and I feel like I am wrapped up grips of the two strongest men I've known, Grandpa and Uncle Gene.

I decided to bring this parka along with me to Korea to makes it return 60 years later. First, took a trip to the DMZ. Yes, the Demilitarized Zone. The line that separates North and South Korea. I coming from the South headed up to the boarder with a group of people from Japan and the US. When we finally reached the DMZ, we were searched, checked by armed guards and had our pictures taken for security and personal safety reasons. This place is really the most heavily armed place I have ever scene. Bunkers on both sides with anti-aircraft guns ready to fire. Soldiers, tanks, trucks and explosives ready to detonate in case of an attack. Which is possible with the testing of the "satellite missiles" in North Korea. Which most of the world believes its for NUCLEAR Weapons testing. Either way when I was up there on the border you felt that it could happen and any minute.

We were able to go into a building with highly trained hand to hand combat soldiers. Remember...no weapons. In this room you could walk around the other side of the table and be in North Korea. One side has South Korea soldiers. The other, North Korea Soldiers. It is a very tense place. We are asked not to smile, wave, laugh, point and make any gestures or faces that may be used by the North Koreas as propaganda to show their people either how bad we Americans are or how bad we want to be in North Korea. It was a surreal experience and something I am glad I saw.

While walking around wearing Gene's coat I was stopped and asked where I got it. I told this older South Korean couple that it was my Uncle's from the War and they asked if they could touch it. It was was shocking to hear that question and I said of course. They spoke in Korean, smiled and stroked my coat for a moment. It was really a good feeling. They told others about it and they all showed happiness and a sort of thankfulness. It was a very interesting place. Something I will always remember. Whenever I think about Korea it will always bring me back to Gene. I hope I can post some more stories about Uncle Gene and Aunt Seenie. Maybe I'll go back to the summer of 1987 in Seguin, Texas to write about catfish contests and skinning snakes. Ok time to go. Miss you buddy. L

February 27th A Day I'll Always Remember

It's time to share some childhood stories about my best friend Kyle. I think about him everyday and what he thinks about me and my life. Plus, I wonder how he would be living his life if he hadn't left my house that day.
I wrote a long story about The Blixt Boys, "The Day My Life Changed" one year ago to the day. If you have not read it. STOP and go back and read before you continue. PLEASE!

I can remember the day well. But before that I want to tell some stories about some of the things we did. It's hard for me to really decide which story to tell. Do I choose this story for this year or do I wait to tell it next year? Not sure. I guess it really doesn't matter so which ever I tell it's new to you. But, for me it's like yesterday.

I can see walking through the trees and jumping the barb wire fence that leads into Jason Nolan's back yard. Now, Jason's yard is not a small city yard. Most of you who know me have heard stories about Chapman, a small town of about 1000 people in Central Kansas. I was one of the few who lived in "TOWN". Kyle, Kerry and Jeff Blixt lived up the road from me and had a nice home on the hill. Behind their home was a small grove of trees that was perfect for building tree houses. I can remember four trees that grew perfectly to be ideal corner posts to build, what I consider, one of the best tree houses I have ever seen. It had 3 different levels. Yes, separate floors to a tree house. Its hard to believe but those boys could build. Looking back it seemed liked it was impossible to be apart of the "club" but as mentioned in my last story I had been accepted and I was family to these great brothers.

We would spend hours and days in that grove behind the house. Whether it was shooting birds, riding motorcycles, driving Bobcats or kicking each others' assess. Plain and simple, it was fun. Many of our outings would end with a trip to the Getty. I hope some of you Chapman readers remember the Getty. The Getty was the rival gas station of the Fina only 90 ft away (30m for my Euro readers). These two gas stations were always raising and lowering prices to get the customers. Back in 1984ish I can remember it dropping to 83 cents a gallon. Wow!! Where are those days? OK back to the story. We would go to the Getty and have a plan. Kyle, Kerry, myself and others would walk in and say hello to Cat Daddy, Dave Graves. Dave if you are reading I am sorry. We had a plan every time to steal, grab, borrow or whatever you want to call it as much "chew" as we could. Yes, chewing tobacco. Not smokes, not candy, not beer but chew. Happy Days was our choice of pleasure not for the smooth minty taste but because we had to refill the cans we stole from Leroy, Kyle, Jeff and Kerry's Dad.

Our plan was to go to the back room and play video games for a little while and stuff quarters upon quarters in to
Ms. Pacman and Galaga. When the time came for the "move" we would always take turns on being the "one". Now you have to remember this is somewhere close to 1984 and the time when if your game "ate" your quarter the guy working, aka Cat Daddy, would come back to the back room and unlock the machine and open it up and get your money back for you. However, we would plan it that more than one machine was "eating" our quarters. Thus giving "the one" more time. Yes, I am sorry mom. Often I was the one cause i was the fastest. (Yes, I used to be fast before the beer so shut up). Kyle was always so good at keeping Dave in the back room. He would stand in front of him and keep him from coming back in the main area. I would grab rolls of "chew" or whoever was up next to do the deed would stuff them into our pants and run. If you are not a chewer you probably don't know that rolls of chew can come in packs of 5 or more. Yeah, 10 to 20 cans at a time we would grab. We would take turns doing the job and sneak out the door and meet out back to walk up the road past the Meyer's house and back to the trees by Jason's and the Blixt's home. Never being caught...til now.
We'd divvy up the cans making sure to replenish Leroy's stash and head to the Bag Swings!

OH the bag swings. They were the center point of our life. It didn't matter whether it was sunny, rainy, snowy or sleet. We were there. Being crazy fools. This place was just next door to my house. Remember the story of me climbing the radio tower? Yeah that's the same place, but just down in valley in "Witches Hollow". These bag swings were not pieces of elaborate engineering. They were made of a long piece of 3 inch rope, a burlap sack and hay stuffed inside then tied to a tall cottonwood tree. Dennis Weinhold, the father of my friend Caleb, was a local horseman who made it for us. He cut, chopped and dug out the area to allow us to have the time of our lives. It was one of the highlights of my childhood.

We would spend hours upon hours of jumping, diving, falling, bleeding and laughing. Plus, laughing some more were spent in that pasture. It was the meeting point for our club. I am sure to this day you can find knives, throwing stars and other weapons buried in the ground not far from there with our names on them. This place was a boys dream. The swing was set up to swing down into an old dried out creek bed with a flush grouping of hedge trees in the back. We would have to clear out the hedge apples every time so we wouldn't land on them The rope hung about 50 feet from the the large branch and would have to be pulled back up the the stand, made out of an old walnut stump, every time to beging the day. The soil at the bottom was made of pure lovable sand. Soft to the touch and about 1 foot deep. When you hit it from 12 to 15 ft off the ground. It was like landing in soft butter. POOF!

We would have contests to see how far we could jump to the bag. It was all about distance. Imagine. Push the bag out, let it come back and then wait.....JUMP. If you caught it easily it wasn't far enough. Looking back I can see that the declining slope was about 12 degrees decline and thats was pretty damn steep. So if you missed you rolled and tumbled for about 20 to 30 feet (9 to 10m) with a 12 foot free fall before you hit the ground. But, if you have caught on to the reason why I write on this day you don't need to ask who who was the best.

Kyle, was and in my mind will always be the craziest and most daring person i have ever met. He wasn't always toughing and stronger but he had more determination than anyone. He was not the biggest kid or the strongest but had more mental strength than most 12 yr olds. If he said he was doing it. He was doing it. So when i came to that creek bed and the bag swing it all about being the best. This place was surrounded by tall cottonwood and hedge trees. The tree our swing was tied to was in the middle of the small clearing. It must have been about 120 years old with a base the diameter of 10 men, okay 10 kids. But none-the-less it was big. A giant to some and a monster to this day. But, on the right side there was the second bag that was added. On that side of the tree there was a tree on the opposite end. Bare, while and dead. Lifeless but strong and willing to support anyone who dared to climb. Kyle would climb to the first stable branch and wait. I would stand on the wooden perch or Kerry or who ever else was next and toss the bag to him. Often it would take several tries for us to whip it around at the right angle to hit Kyle at the perfect point. The bag would swoop down, two feet off the ground and the knotted end would brush the soft sandy bed and then swoop straight up to it's pinnacle of about 30 to 40 ft and it would just come to him like a dream. Then he would leap. I am sure not once he would even think about it. I can still see it so clearly. He would just step off the branch and cling to the rope and glide back to the stand waiting for us to join him on his ride. Never worrying about being hurt or falling. He knew it. He knew he would never miss. The bag wasn't but inches away but if he missed the rope he wouldn't land on the sloping hill and roll to the bottom of the soft milky sand pit. He would drop straight down about 40 ft (13m). But, when he came gliding up to the stand I would always jump off the stand and join him on his joy ride until so many others piled on and we crashed to the ground from the weight. Laughing and screaming. I can feel the sand in my face as I hit the ground. It's like I am there now.

Not many made the jump. But those that did will always remember the Bag Swings. I will always remember the Bag Swings.

I will always remember my dear and loved friend, Kyle.

I will never forget February 27th.



Kyle died of a gun shot wound February 27th, 1986. He was 12 yrs old. He was a powerful soul and still to this day drives me to be who I am. Much of what I have done in my life is to carry on what I think he would want me to do. Telling stories of our lives together with family and friends and sharing the joy we had together.
I know many more people have stories of their friends and family but I ask you to share them. Not for me but for you.