During the month of October I had the extraordinary opportunity to travel from the Peruvian Andes to the Amazon jungle, visiting in sequence the Q’ero people in the mountains and the Shipibo of the upper Amazon. This amazing trip was only partially a result of long term planning. While the trip to the jungle was part of our long term schedule, the Andean part of the trip was, to be truthful, last minute. One of our students, Richard, had connected with the Q’ero people on a prior trip to Cuzco and became a godfather to one of their children. The child was now close to two years old and it was time for the important hair cutting ceremony that signals an infants initiation into the greater community. Until that time the child’s hair (whether male or female) remains uncut and uncombed and can appear quite scraggly. Because of high infant mortality it is unclear whether the child will survive or not. Between one and two years of age the child is deemed old enough to be received more fully into the tribe. Being the godparent, Richard was responsible to make the trip to Peru and cut the child’s hair along with the giving of proper gifts and financial support. He did not particularly want to make this extensive trip alone and asked my daughter Anna, my wife Lena, and myself a couple of months before if we would be interested in going. After brief consideration we decided that this was an unparalleled opportunity to visit a people we were very much interested in meeting, so we said yes.

I consider myself to be a proud member of the green generation. I have grown up in a time where eating organic, holistic health, and riding your bike to work are constantly gaining in popularity. A time when North Americans are finally waking up to the harm they have caused our planet and have made small steps towards progress. The green generation has observed the foolish mistakes of our parents, leaders and teachers, and knows that there exists a much more harmonious way of living.

The last time I was in Bangkok, Thailand in 1976, there was a government coup. Later in the nineties as Lena and I arrived in Nepal, an insurrection was in full force leading us to hole up in our hotel under government curfew.

Every year after dieting in the traditional way for a month ahead of time my family goes on our annual pilgrimage to the sacred Peyote gardens of the Huichol Indians of Mexico.

My husband Aaron and I were driving up to Denver on our way to a family wedding. We were chatting about this and that and listening to music, and I was behind the wheel. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a large bird, obvious road kill, on the shoulder.