Thaipusam Festival in Singapore

The beauty of travel is often the unexpected. Guidebooks can only create a rough picture and one's expectations of a place will almost always be challenged upon arrival. So when I secured a 3-day layover in Singapore en route to India, I was open to whatever experience awaited me. Yet, I never expected that in my first 24 hours in Singapore, I would be thrust head-first into one of the most intense and awe-inspiring spectacles I have ever witnessed.

The most spectacular Hindu festival in Singapore just happened to be taking place the day I arrived. The neighborhood called Little India was fully alive, even after midnight. All along the streets vendors were threading jasmine flowers and chrysanthemum onto elaborate garlands while devotees filed down the roadside carrying jugs of milk upon their heads. All night and day the marching would continue; this was just the beginning.

In Singapore, on the day of Thaipusam, devotees of Lord Subramaniam fulfill their vows by completing a 4km walk between two temples during which they carry pots of milk on their heads which are presented as an offering upon completion. The carrying of kavadis (semi-circular metal structures) is a unique feature of Thaipusam. This act represents the offerings of one's burden to Lord Subramaniam. It is believed that the more effort and hardship endured when carrying the kavadi, the more generous Lord Subramaniam will be in fulfilling devotees' wishes.

The Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple is the starting point of the march where devotees wash their feet ceremoniously before beginning the walk, and also where the preparation of kavadis takes place. In the temple drums were pounding, whistles blowing, and men and women cheering, singing and chanting prayers while tourists whispered to one another in awe. The room was packed and the scent of incense and perspiration filled the temple and bombarded the senses. A sea of dark faces filled the room amidst 20 or more towering structures scattered about the temple, each decorated in elaborate fashion with peacock feathers, flower garlands, gods and goddess statues, umbrellas and ringing bells. Others flashed with twinkling lights and all were connected to the carrier's body using metal hooks and spikes.

Made almost entirely of metal, the kavadis stand over ten feet tall and at least five feet in diameter. The process of placing kavadis onto the body begins by the wrapping of a belt around the carrier's waist. Four long metal rods attached to the belt protrude from the front, back, and sides, perpendicular to the body and extend several feet in 4 directions. These serve to carry a portion of the weight while the rest is supported on their shoulders.


Most kavadis are built with several layers like a wedding cake where each layer gets progressively smaller. The first (and lowest) layer is as wide as the rods that extend from the belt. This layer is built with decorative panels that flop up and down in unison with the carrier's step. The panels are decorated with pictures of Hindu gods surrounded by peacock feathers that fan the air as the panels fall forward and back again. Bells fastened to their calves and ankles make the kavadi an auditory (as well as visual) treat.


The sheer size and weight of the kavadis make the scene impressive enough, but that is not the only hardship the carrier would endure that day. With the kavadi in place, friends and family begin the process of attaching the metal structure to the body. Strings of beads hang from the metal structure and are connected to the body with metal hooks, much like fishhooks. The carrier stands strong and proud and shows no sign of pain as the hooks are threaded through the skin of their back. Then long, straight metal rods are put in place one at a time, slipped through holes in the kavadi and then through the skin of their chest, sides and back. For each rod that penetrates the carrier's body, the more generous Lord Subramaniam will be in granting his family's wishes.

The final stage of preparation involves the piercing of the tongue and cheeks. I watched as the carriers stood stone-faced, mouths open, and a thick metal rod pierced one of their cheeks and then the other. There was no blood, even very little pain so far as I could tell, even as the last rod was pushed through the bottom of their tongue and out the top. The scene was made even more intense by the friends and family who support the carrier, dancing around him wildly, singing loudly and chanting prayers which build into a deafening crescendo as the mouth and tongue are pierced. The circle of energy that surrounds the carrier is undeniable, and in fact, crucial to the hardship he must endure. For once the kavadi is fully in place, these supporters will follow the carrier every bit of the 4km and serve as an integral support system, crucial to his success.



One such group I followed nearly the entire length of the walk. The carrier showed no sign of pain or discomfort as he carried this giant metal structure upon his body. He was young and almost over-confident, going so far as to stop for pictures, posing for tourists, despite the many rods and hooks that pierced his lean, fit body. He was encouraged by an exuberant group of young followers, girls who chanted prayers and sang songs over megaphones and men who danced around him and kept others at a safe distance. At times the carrier would break into wild dances, his body gyrating as he lunged back and forth upon his toes and spun in dizzying circles, all the while managing the kavadi that stood tall upon his body.


As I returned to my hostel and attempted to digest all that I had experienced that day, I realized that this truly was just the beginning. For the spiritual dedication and intensity that I saw at Thaipusam would be repeated time and time again as my journey brought me deep into the heart of India. In India I would see and experience things that would take time to process in my own life, and definitely some time before I could fully share with others. Yet, those experiences are what brought me so far from the comforts of my home and I hope I can find the words to describe the amazing things I saw and the impact it has had on my own life. And hopefully those descriptions will touch your own lives, much as I hope this story of Thaipusam already has.

Angels of Costa Rica

End of March 2007 we entered Costa Rica. Being spoiled by easy hitch-hiking in Panama, we encountered moving problems as soon as we entered Costa Rica. Three to four hours waiting for one ride was average. A bit frustrating, though the nature views paid off for it.

We were heading immediately towards Earth Rose Farm, an eco-farm near San Isidro, Costa Rica. We were in contact with its owners Rosie and Maji for a long time, but never managed to come for a visit. Accidentally being back in Central America we used the chance to pass by their farm and contribute to its fruitful growing. We enjoyed working there for 10 days.

Being back on the road we had a slight idea of making a tour up to El Salvador and then back to Panama, crossing to South America in June. As usual, everything came different.

Heading towards San Jose (the capital of Costa Rica) we ended up in Cartago (15 miles before San Jose). We got out on a crossroad, where we could continue straight to the active Volcano Irazu. The road supposed to lead along villages, but we passed mainly industrial areas and a lot of truck bars, garages, etc. We walked along the road in the darkness searching for a place to camp, feeling uneasy in this uncosy area. This night we encountered our first unpleasant experience after 15 months of travelling. We were attacked by a desperate drug-addict, asking us for money and threatening us with a big wooden stick. The whole story ended with me being injured on my left thigh. We stopped cars, and what happened since then was incredible.

Small truck driver Rolando picked us up and brought right to the hospital. Saying Good bye he didn't miss to invite us for a ride from Cartago to a nearby village of Volcano Irazu the coming day. Entering the hospital bursting with waiting patients, we stated our incident and were given treatment within the next half an hour. Being placed in a wheel-chair, X-rays were made, the wound was inspected, and the diagnose of having got a hematoma was given. Approximate healing process: 4 days (which was far underestimated).

During the treatment many of the hospital personell got to know my case. I was given words of apology and compassion from all sides. They all seemed to suffer from my intercourse with a fellow countryman.

We expected high treatment costs, but we were charged NOTHING! A directive by the reception manager.

We were brought to a cheap hostel. The taxi driver narrated the hostel manager our late-evening-walk-in-Cartago experience. His reaction: "You understand that I cannot charge you for your stay now." We were out of comprehension. "You understood what I said?", he asked. We nodded slowly. Both, the taxi driver and hotel manager enunciated their sadness about the incident with deep sorrow.

Two days later we left to Palmira Norte, were two weeks earlier a girl invited us right from the street into her house. I needed a place to recover, thus we went for it. We never met the girl again, but her family took great care of us, accommodating us with all we needed. We enjoyed three very calm and lazy days in Palmira Norte, doing nothing but reading and watching TV, as walking still was not an option for me.

Though the leg was not fine then, an inner voice told us to move. We stopped Luis, who was on the way to San Isidro, half way to San Jose. Bingo. "Today is your lucky day", Luis said after receiving a phone call. "Plans changed and I am going to San Jose instead of San Isidro". Stars blinking in our eyes. Short time later, during an in-between stop in San Isidro, Luis invited us to stay in his house in the capital. What a lucky day!

On the way Luis brought us to Los Cusingos farm, formerly owned by Dr. Alexander Skutch (1904 - 2004). He is one of the 20th century's greatest naturalists, specializing in ornithology. He left his farm to the Tropical Science Center (TSC) a couple of years ago, which is meanwhile open to the public. The museum - Skutch's house in original state - was closed, but we saw the stones on which it was build, the library from the outside, and his lovely grave. The scenery at his farm is amazingly beautiful, breathtaking, and even offers monkeys spying at you from above. The marvellous variety of birds we had to leave behind unseen, as Luis needed to head towards San Jose.

Luis invited us into his house in San Rafael Abajo, in the South-East of San Jose capital, to recover from my injury. We stayed with him for exactly two weeks, several days even alone. Luis lives with his five dogs in a comfortable 4 room house. In the front part of his garden Rottweiler Mariposa ("butterfly") and Chiuahua Pinki are on watch, while in the backyard Husky Beluga, Rottweiler-Mix Gill, and Terrier Princessa live in all but great harmony. Four of the dogs are former street dogs. During night, when the street-dog gangs pass by the house, all five are in fierce competition. Forget about sleep.

We are moving on now and we wish to express our gratefulness to all the angels we met since the attack. It is a pleasure to see again that the majority of people are simply great, offering hospitality and showing trust to complete strangers. We love to share these experiences with everyone, hoping to give examples of the real world for those among us humans who are still caught by skepticism and fear towards strangers.


costa-rica-4-25 tagged map by user - Tagzania

Searching for the Dream

I attempted to represent your views at a conference in Ketchikan last week and was asked to hone in on 2 items:

1. What do seasonal employees want
2. What does it take to keep a seasonal employee through the season
   

With that in mind we ran a survey on Cool Works ? to go straight to the source. We threw in an extra question about whether and why it might be that these types of jobs might be less appealing than they used to be, offered up some essay opportunities and were psyched to receive 229 responses.

Some highlights -

LOCATION - ADVENTURE - EMPLOYER REPUTATION - MANAGEMENT

These factors figured prominently in the responses we saw. A little further down were Money, Room and Board, Making a Difference and Making Friends. Here's a quick chart showing responses to the multiple choice questions.

Then for grins we took all of the essay responses to this question and filtered them through the tool at TagCrowd to see what bubbled up that we missed in the multiple choice and in reading the essay responses. The biggest oversight was MANAGEMENT. Here's the Tag Cloud of these essay answers:

adventure (24) company (11) decent (16) different (13) employees (20) employment (17) enjoy (15) experience (24) food (14) fun (19) housing (34) important (18) job (41) location (25) looking (17) management (17) money (25) opportunity (12) pay (33) people (34) places (13) room (21) seasonal (38) something (25) work (74)

created at TagCrowd.com

Some of the responses to "What do you look for in a seasonal job"...

• an adventure and ability to see new places and faces.
  
• A resort that is busy. 30 min. to a town. No snow. Great housing, prefer my own room & bath.
  
• I will work my butt off when i am at work, but on my time off i will be on the trail and at night i will be chilaxing with the great people that come along with seasonal jobs.
• It?s not about the money ? it?s respect, employers who love the place too, and decent meals and housing.
  
• I am an older and bolder type -- location comes first. my second consideration: easy computer access. in the relatively remote locations I seek, I want to remain connected to family and friends by email.
  
• I always look for small family operated places. I am mid- 20's and really over bunkbeds and roomies.
• once or twice a season allow staff a 3 day weekend to explore where they are
• I would be willing to go about anywhere if I just had a bit of privacy in housing.
• to improve my english skills, and to study more about american culture
• I double check anywhere I want to work with people who have worked there in the past. ..once you have entered the seasonal world it is very easy to tap into the network.
  
• I want to leave a seasonal job with more skills than I arrived with. Its give-and-take.
• This is a lifestyle, not a job.

Question Number Two:
Turnover is a significant problem for seasonal employers. High turnover can make it very hard for managers and for the seasonal staff that remain. What factors make it more likely that you will work through your agreed upon dates?

The multiple choice responses:

Tag Cloud of Essay Responses...

being (15) better (13) bonus (12) company (13) crew (18) employees (47) employers (39) experience (12) feel (19) housing (26) important (18) job (46) leave (17) managers (50) pay (18) people (44) respect (21) season (33) staff (14) stay (26) things (13) think (12) treat (28) work (78) year (13)

created at TagCrowd.com

Some essay excerpts about what will keep you on the job:

• I wouldn't let down a boss or employer unless they have let me down.
• When I'm working for people I like, I'll be more apt to stay for the duration and come back next year. Implement an end of season bonus. Offer better benefits to returning employees. i.e. discounted/free room and board for returners, significant pay raise, better housing option, if available.
  
• I am not sure how companies can expect loyalty to the company when they make it clear that this is an at-will position.
  
• Don't penalize the good employees by making us put up with the bad ones.
  
• change the jobs around so we don't get bored and don't let a few people make all the tips
  
• If the three things happen all at once - low team morale, boredom, and low pay - I move on.
• Most servers don't want to move up to management because it means a significant pay cut. If the managers were paid better, companies would have better candidates to fill those positions.
  
• No Challenge or incentive. Most of us want to feel that we are doing something important and not just 'spinning our wheels' for the summer.
  
• #1 Mean employers lose people. #2 Fire bad managers and employees; #3 Pay well... #4 Offer decent food and housing.
  
• Manage for return staff just like you manage for return guests.
• People don't leave jobs, they leave managers.

Finally, "What's Happening Out there". Employers are struggling to fill these jobs. Are outdoorsy jobs no longer cool? Are we too attached to our gadgets? Some essay responses:

• people don't explore anymore/too many video games
  
• increasing travel costs. It is costing me almost 100 dollars more to fly to alaska this year than last.
  
• Work dries up in the middle of the season! The living costs continue, and the profit margin is threatened, if not eliminated. Work in a town with welfare options competes, and wins!
  
• Very few people are aware that they are out there.
  
• the people i know around here prefer to live off of someone else.
  
• Our society continues to experience a nature disconnect.
  
• Most people I talk to just don't have the guts to go for it.
• You have to be wealthy to afford this lifestyle!!!! The resorts must pay more or rely on foreigners!!!!
  
• Seasonal work is hit or miss. Not everyone is cut-out for it.
  
• Seasonal needs to be a stepping stone - not the place you go when nobody else will hire you.
  
• I've been doing it for about 3 years now, and my big problem is the in-between time. It kills me financially!
  
• We need a good recession. There are too many well paying jobs elsewhere
  
• I think that younger people feel that if they take seasonal work, it will blow their chances at "real" jobs later
  
• For older employees, housing is usually a zoo!
  
• Housing, single housing and you would have 10 applicants for every job.
  

Talking to employers in Alaska and as we do this Cool Works things, this gives us much needed perspective. Thanks so much for sharing your insights.

I summed up my talk by stating the obvious but difficult goal to

BE AN OUTFIT THAT OTHERS WANT TO BE A PART OF

There are some great opportunities out there and we've always been psyched to help match people up with them. Please continue to help spread the word and continue to weigh in so we can do a better job for you.

Bill Berg

President/Founder
www.CoolWorks.com ~ Jobs in Great Places (tm)

Five Days!

So this is my last week in the states. I head out Monday morning for Gwangju, South Korea to teach English for a year. Woohoo! I don't think I've ever been more excited. I'm definitely ready to be challenged and live outside of the U.S. for a while.

The mood in Richmond has been very somber since the Virginia Tech shootings this past Monday. Lots of people here are connected to Tech somehow. It seems like everyone I know is either alumni, or has friends who go there or children of theirs who attend. My one good friend who goes there emailed me to let me know he's okay. I can't imagine how shaken up he must be. And as much as I'm excited about Korea, it's definitely hard not to think about the losses that all of those families and friends are experiencing.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm nervous about leaving. I think I've been too preoccupied with getting everything done on my list that I haven't had time to get nervous. I sold my car. I sold my bass guitar that I had been holding onto for sentimental reasons, but decided I needed to let it go. I went through my moms attic and got rid of so much stuff that has just been sitting and collecting dust. For some reason I tend to hold onto things for the sole purpose of them being there just incase. Getting rid of most of my wardrobe was really hard, despite the fact that I didn't wear most of it anymore. You know the clothes you keep "just incase" you'll fit back into them, and "just incase" you'll find a shirt to match those awful plaid pants. Well, it turns out everything I own is "just incase."
I'm anxious to begin a new life in a new country. I'm eager to teach with no shoes on and hang my clothes to dry on a line instead of in a dryer. I'm eager to live as minimal as possible, and away from American culture for a while. My mom has warmed up a little more to the idea, so my feelings of guilt for leaving her has dwindled. My boyfriend of six months is taking my departure pretty well. Although, I like to think that he's at home curled up in the fetal position underneath a table weeping uncontrollably. But I've already been replaced with a high definition tv. He's known since our first date that I was planning to move to Korea to teach English, so we both knew this day would come. And I do get a bit weepy when I think about leaving him. He's been an amazing support for me, and I hate knowing that I won't see him for a while. I do wish he could come with me. But his life is here, his kids are here. And I've accepted that.

I spent Monday in Washington DC getting my VISA stamp on my passport. I had never been to an Embassy before. I don't know why, but I expected it to be a lot more exciting than it was. For some reason I had envisioned waiting in line and seeing someone hauled off into a back room, or something. Loud yelling in Korean was to follow. And perhaps an official Embassy water cooler with paper cups that look like the Korean flag was in my vision, too. But nope. I was in and out in ten minutes. No back room (from what I saw, anyway.) No fancy paper cups. Just a metal detector and a few Korean travel guide books free for the taking.
So now that I have my VISA taken care of, pretty much all I have to do is pack and make sure I bring my toothbrush. You would think that I'd be an amazing packer by now as much as I've moved in the past two years. But actually I'm pretty bad at it. My mom and sister are the master packers. I must have picked up my dad's gene on that one. I'm just slow when I pack and I second guess everything. But hopefully by Sunday night I'll be down to a suitcase full of clothes, and perhaps an iron, "just incase."

The Dream Refreshed

Blogging the Dream. Blogging the Dream. Blogging the Dream.

What is the dream? What is this dream that I should be blogging?

For most of us who made it to the CoolWorks website the dream is about adventure. About taking a chance and letting ourselves be challenged in a new environment, with new responsibilities and new people. About not being afraid to change our own worlds for new ones, where the opportunities to learn are abundant. It?s about taking control of our own destinies and changing the course of our lives. About saying, ?yes, I can, I will, I?ll try, and why not?.

Many of us fulfill this dream traveling. As a student of tourism I studied and learned about all the benefits and drawbacks of the tourism industry. Tourism can take on many forms and faces. Experiences can range from a simple escape in the sun all the way to an engaging and educational cultural experience depending on what the traveler is looking for.

In addition to studying tourism I?ve had the opportunity to be a tourist many times and my travels always take on some aspects of education, of relaxation, and of adventure. As a tourist I am also often rewarded with a sense of self-empowerment that comes from taking control of my path and deciding where I want to go today and tomorrow.

There are, however, limitations to traveling as a tourist. One of the biggest limitations is economic. We can?t maintain a tourist attitude forever, unless we have unlimited resources to sustain that lifestyle without working. So eventually many of us have to submit and return to the familiarity of our daily lives, often times saddened that our experience had to end, back to work and back to normal.

Where is this leading? Well, back to the dream of course: adventure, new challenges, taking control. How can we make it so that the vacation feelings, the adventures and the new experiences don?t end?

By living abroad or living in a different State, Province, City or Town. Here is where we can extend our adventure into a genuine learning experience. Genuine is the key word here. As tourists we often see only a part of the reality of a destination. We get a quick look at the way other people live, a glimpse of life in a different environment, a peek at the social or political reality of a new place; maybe we learn a few new words in a different language. Many of us are motivated by these new findings but we only wade knee-deep into our explorations. To dive head first into these experiences we need to LIVE the new life, create a life in the new setting.

Now, I?m sure many of you are thinking that this is no longer tourism if you must work. You think, if I?m working it is not relaxing, and it is not a vacation. True. Living and working in new place is not tourism and it is also not a way to replace tourism and travel. Yet, imagine now that you find a job in a different country or even in the next town. It is as if you are bringing your tourism destination to you. You are instantly immersed in three great activities that provide some of the same stimulations as tourism and travel: meeting new people, taking on new challenges and opening your eyes to a new and changed environment.

When you meet a new person you are given the chance to see a different perspective on life. Sometimes when we are traveling we meet someone who is very interesting and we are able to quickly open up and share ourselves with the other person. This is ideal, but not usually the reality of the situation. The majority of people do not open up the first time you meet them. Trust must be established and then sharing can begin. That sharing is an amazing educational tool. It is like a window into another world, a new perspective. In order to access this tool we need time to establish relationships. This, of course, doesn?t happen during a weeklong holiday, but in a month or three months or a year people begin to share their outlooks and knowledge. You can begin to take note of attitudes, personalities and even the social contexts of the lives around you directly from the people who live there. This knowledge you absorb may be drastic and intriguing or subtle and guarded. Where people are more guarded the trust needed to open up sharing is even more important. This is especially true in many foreign societies where people aren?t as open as in the Occidental parts of the World. Sometimes customs create situations where we feel uncomfortable with new people. For example, when I was in China many foreigners told me they felt strange when a group of Chinese people would watch quietly as the foreigner shopped or merely walked by. This seems strange to you and me, but after living in China for a time I learned that for a Chinese person quiet observation is an excellent way to curb curiosity. Instead of hiding curiosity, they explore it. Many of customs and social mannerisms can be explained once you establish relationships in the community. Over time we, as outsiders, learn to accept and even respect these new customs, and that acceptance only grows with time and understanding.

When living away from home we are sure to encounter more trials since we are unfamiliar with the new place and its workings. Some challenges can be enormous and others minimal, but when you meet the challenge, big or small, and face it successfully you are sure to be filled with a sense of accomplishment. Imagine your first day learning the Metro lines or bus routes in a new city. When you arrive at your destination you are rewarded with a burst of confidence knowing that you can and you did. This may seem simple, but daily successes like this can fill you with a sense of accomplishment. Now imagine you are in a country where you cannot read, write or speak the language. After one week you can say where you live, hello, how are you, goodbye, yes and no. After two weeks you can tell someone what you do, ask how much something costs, say excuse me, and maybe even count to five. This learning is so fulfilling. The focus on the advances rather than the difficulties allows you to see each new achievement as a big step forward in understanding your new surroundings. In my experience, the longer you stay, the more you realize there is to learn, especially when traveling outside of your native country.

Once you begin to understand some of the ways to move or communicate or enjoy your new surroundings your eyes begin to open up to all the possibilities around you. Your new environment begins to make sense. You want to explore a little farther each time you go out. You begin to take advantage of the possibilities that exist in your surroundings. If you are an outdoor lover you will begin to investigate new hiking routes or tourism attractions near your new home. If you are a City lover then you will find new museums, theatres, shows and parks to explore. If you love culture you will notice the way people are living around you, their mannerisms, teachings and social protocol. You are surrounded by new experiences at work, after work or on the weekends when you have free time. You are constantly growing and learning and this advancement leaves you fulfilled and satisfied.

Many people have commented that it must be difficult to live and work in different places. I know that this is true for some people. This type of life is for those who have a longing to discover and explore. These are the people who will thrive and blossom in changing environments.

Every now and then it is important to clarify what you are doing and why you are doing it. This blog is a step back to look at my life with a little more clarity and recall why it is that I love this life that I have chosen and furthermore, why I would recommend it to others.

My dream is to be able to work around the world, be compensated fairly, explore new cultures and provide a home for my family, with the additional possibility of creating my own business to meet the aforementioned goals. Well, my dream becomes both easier and harder to accomplish all the time. It becomes easier and easier to travel, to accept new work and new situations, to set up new homes. It becomes harder to decide where to go next, which offers too accept and which ones to leave behind. I have my own motivations and dreams that I hope to achieve. At the same time as I begin to put some of those dreams into concrete plans I am distracted with amazing offers to work around the world.

In the past month I have given yoga classes and Chinese Paper Cutting workshops at a Spring Break Outdoor Camp near Mexico City, I?ve been offered a job teaching young children at an International School in Bangkok, Thailand, I?ve been asked to think about setting up an Adventure Tourism Company here in Mexico with a focus on Canadian and American travelers, I?ve been offered a job as an activities planner at the Camp I mentioned above and I?ve been sent a request to audition for a part in a Chinese/American Television Program being produced out of Beijing, China for airing in North America. Not only are the offers interesting and stimulating, but there all over the place and quite random in their focus.

If you are willing to travel and try new things the world will open up for you. Many of us are lucky to have been born in First World Nations where we have been provided the education and preparation necessary to be able to grab on to the amazing possibilities of moving and working freely.

So this is the dream that we are blogging. My fellow bloggers and I are travelers, ready to meet the world and all its challenges with chins up and chests out. I say let?s go get that dream.

A Different Kind of Schadenfreude

Through the magic of Netflix, my wife and I have been watching Northern Exposure, the CBS television series that aired in the 1990s. A hit for the network, and multiple Emmy winner, the series tells the story of Dr. Joel Fleischman, a hyper-civilized New Yorker who, as the series opens, has just finished medical school and residency. His medical education has been paid for by the state of Alaska, and he now owes the state four years' service, which he had thought he would serve in Anchorage. The state dispatches him instead to the town of Cicely, a remote and primitive backwater even by Alaska standards. Joel, who had previously been inclined to think of Brooklyn as a remote and primitive backwater, is horrified.

In the early episodes, Joel is portrayed as an obnoxious, self-dealing egotist; my wife, who is from Long Island, never watched the show when it aired originally because it looked to be full of annoying stereotypes about New Yorkers. But Joel is soon revealed to have a soft side, and the town itself has a kind of magic that ultimately goes to work on his harder edges. The exterior shots of the town were filmed in Roslyn, Washington, which is not exactly remote; Roslyn is right next to Interstate 90 and a fairly easy drive from metropolitan Seattle, which is why they filmed there. And the show was a bit lacking in the realism department. Watching it again, I have just noticed that Canadian characters appear with some regularity, but they always speak in perfect Southern California English. No doot aboot it, that's wrong. (Eh?). But even if its portrait of life in the north was laughably imprecise, plenty of people who saw the show will, when the subject of Alaska comes up, think first of Cicely and Joel and Maggie, Ed Chigliak, Adam and Eve, and Chris in the Morning on KBHR. I wonder how many people in Alaska today can trace their flight from the lower 48 to seeds planted by Northern Exposure, although they may be too shy to admit it.

When I worked in Yellowstone, we watched the show during the off season, when we were usually not in the park (no television in Yellowstone without a dish, of course; to get CBS, you had to descend off the great plateau). We loved it. We wanted to live it, and really were already living it. I thought, at the time, that we wanted to be like the townspeople, but I know now that what we really wanted was to be like Joel. We loved our job--we worked for Yellowstone Park Service Stations--but we knew we could never stay and have careers, too. And here was Joel Fleischman, with his MD finished, living in a place we thought would be perfect. And everyone treats him with such respect! In our experience, we had a stark choice, between an advanced degree and a nice place to live; watching the show, we dreamed of having both. That Joel hates Alaska seemed merely an ironic comment on human perversity.

But recently, I have come to see a side of our desires that is not so pleasant to consider. Watching Northern Exposure again, I can see for the first time something you could hardly miss: Cicely is a chronically poor place, with no local economy worth considering. I also remembered that Cicely always reminded us of some very specific places around Yellowstone.

Gardiner, Montana, for instance, the little town that sits astride the north entrance to the park. I last saw Yellowstone, oh, months and months ago, and wrote about it here and here. At the end of that trip, we moved to Gardiner to be closer to the airport from which we would soon be flying. On our last night, I left our little hotel room at nearly midnight. I was hungry, and wanted to see if I could find something to eat. At this hour, in this place, doing so would require great ingenuity. I also wanted to say goodbye to Gardiner for the year, a place that I have always loved.

I walked into the neon wash in front of the hotel, then stood in the dark space behind the wall of the Town Motel and looked up at the stars. I had stood in this very spot and looked at roughly the same stars just after I first came to the park, when I was training at YPSS headquarters. Home was in Los Angeles back then, and I had never known so many stars existed. It still, at this latter date, amazed me. A rabbit, a handsome little cottontail, sat on the motel walk. They will pop up elsewhere in the middle of town, too. Why do they like Gardiner so?

And why did I? I had especially been thinking about the question today. As I walked, I admired the rock houses (made of cobbles from the river, I think), the rock retaining walls on highway 89, the potholes filled with dirt, the classic Eisenhower-era tourist cabins, the decaying wood, the nineteenth century chimneys, the fact that it never seems to change--it's all old and weathered in a way that I liked instantly when I first saw it long ago. Maybe I like it because it is, in truth, a tourist trap, but one that succeeds in living by its own unkempt Montana rules.

I crossed the raging Yellowstone River on the steel highway bridge. I hoped the Cenex c-store would be open. Of course it was not. The only bill I had was a five, and I needed to break it; my sole hope was to get food out of one of the vending machines in Gardiner's many hotels. I had the idea of using the vending machine at the post office just to get the change, but it only had first class stamps for $7.80. I walked all the way to the Best Western, at the furthest end of town, and discovered the bar to be open, almost the only business open in town, I think (I wanted to avoid the other bar, where a former girlfriend works). I waded through the smoke and got five singles from the bartender, then found the vending machine in the hotel. The machine was dark, and had no bill changer. I talked to the grandmotherly person at the desk. She said it was fine, the light was just out, and gave me quarters. I bought four dollars worth of junk and walked in a leisurely way back to our motel.

I enjoyed the lightning flashing over the mountains to the north, a small storm that I knew would miss us entirely. To the south was a black mass against the starry sky: the mountains of Yellowstone National Park. The town dog strolled up and gave me a sniff. The Park County sheriff slowed down and gave me a look, and drove on when he saw that I was not weaving. His was almost the only car I saw. I heard no other sound but the rush of the Yellowstone River.

I walked past the landmarks of Gardiner: Helen's burger place, the Food Farm, the Flying Pig Camp Store, the K-Bar, and so on, But I also walked past, and down, some of the side streets. These streets are never paved, of course. I saw dingy trailers from the 1950s, houses in an advanced state of decay, dead vehicles up on cinder blocks, dead appliances, a dead cat. I saw all the markers, that is, of rural poverty.

Schadenfreude means, approximately, "joy in harm" in German; we have imported the word into English to describe that feeling we all get when someone we dislike has a run of bad luck. I have come, now, to wonder if I am guilty of another kind of shameful joy.

I like Montana--as a lot of other people do--because it has no cities with 20 million people in them, and not much heavy industry. Looked at another way, then, I like Montana because it is not rich. We liked the imaginary Alaska of Northern Exposure for the same reason. The ramshackle quality of a place like Gardiner is the very source of its appeal; it lacks the glamour and bustle of a wealthy place. Put unkindly, you could say that I like it because it is poor.

I will have to follow up on this topic next time; it is too complex to finish here. The questions it raises are not to be trifled with. For instance: when I first came to Gardiner, I was coming from a wealthy part of the world, and one that I hated because it was wealthy. I was inclined to think that people should want to be poor, given the alternatives. But who can make that decision for another?