Pioneering…(You have died of dysentery)

Listening to: The Secret Sisters – Self Titled album (2010)

After writing the title out, I realize that on quick glance some who are not familiar with the game “Oregon Trail” may be caught off guard, think I have some ghastly illness, or am just screwing around. My apologies. If you clicked inadvertently hoping to find me ill or under some immense duration of stress… sorry, maybe next time.

Being from Ohio, I grew up in a what was once the good ‘ol frontier back in the day. I mean really, any of us did if we are from the states. But us Buckeyes (WOOT!) have a very rich history of first settling and living at peace with the native peoples, then beating the crap out of them in order due to the early appearance of Westward expansion, and national security. Some of the most famous pioneers and Native Americans come from the region. I am dirt-dang proud of those facts (well, except the really mean parts about running people out and killing people etc… but that is history.)

Growing up in this former frontier land, I have learned about this rich history in a number of ways. Seeing ancient native burial ground and cities, watching re-enactments of famous natives and pioneers are just a few of the things that exist in and around Ohio. It is a lovely place, and quite honestly, being away from it makes me want to delve into the history more.

But, I am in Morocco, and there are more important things in life… like my own winter survival.

However, I often wonder what it was like being a pioneer in the Ohio-land. It was likely to be gorgeous, rich with wildlife and trees, and very remote. Life would be pretty relaxing I think, as the phrase “ignorance is bliss” comes to mind. What I mean by this is as none of the current day technologies or medicines exist, or were even known, you just take what you get. Peace of mind certainly seems to come out, as well as hoping you had a good wife/husband to keep you company. That would be horrible to have a nagging significant other… but I am straying again.

In Morocco, I sometimes have the best of both worlds. I sit here currently typing away on the intertubes, listening to an album that may or may not be out back in the states, discussing pioneering. Sometimes I say hello to friends on skype or e-mail, and check the scores of the games back home or read the news.

However, on the other hand, I just spent roughly the past three hours chopping and cutting wood so I don’t have to do it during the winter. It was just cedar wood, as the oak is way too hard to cut via axe (maybe if I am lucky some of it cuts alright.) Oh, and before that, I put my wine into the secondary fermentation chamber… yeah I made Pomegranate wine (I think it will be a bit dry, but oh well!) AND, before that I ate homemade applesauce. I made 11 liters in total hoping to make apple cider (fermented)… but it didn’t work without a cider press. These are all activities I would group into the pioneering category of my Morocco existence.

Luckily for me, dysentery has not hit at all, and hopefully will not during my service. My health has been good really. (Note to all: If the wine happens to have a bad bacteria is in, I might get nasty sick. So I suppose I will just find out in January when I crack it open.)

While I don’t have such pioneering activities such as churning butter or hunting on my agenda, I buy local milk and buttermilk. Processed and pasteurized milk is so overrated in flavor. Sadly no local cheese, that would be a blessing, and I would sit home all day nom-ing on cheese.

Chopping wood brings me back to the roots, as I am sure at some point my ancestry had to chop wood for the stove. It is one of the lovely things about winter, curling up by a stove waiting for it to get warm. Having a sip on (insert favorite stove beverage) as the stove gets warm, then taking off a layer or two and just being completely relaxed. It is quite fun, and one of the few perks of living in cold winter weather in Morocco. I get a happy, peaceful feeling. Hopefully this winter I can share it with some people, as those are some of the best nights. In the same manner, actually making a fire from one’s own hands is very rustic. Try it sometime, go camping, or just make a brush-fire (I am not condoning pyromania.)

Another great thing about chopping wood, it gives me a bit of exercise, and warms the extremities and cold feet and hands. I could sit here and write post after post complaining about the cold. But you and I both know that would be silly, and why would I ever do that to you all. I really enjoy chopping wood, and Maybe someday I will try to do the same wherever I find myself living. I do a lot of cooking from scratch as well, and that too feels pretty rustic. I tend to make one of five dishes, with slight variants here and there, but I will continue to cook this way when I get back to the states. I don’t pretend to be a master chef, but I get the job done and people are satisfied. I also am known to be a stellar sous-chef for a master chef. It is relaxing, especially when the weather is nice, and certainly a fun way to interact with people.

In the end, I will miss my pioneering portion of my Moroccan life, but hope that I can bring these things back to the states, and become a student of permaculture, and all things organic.