Saying Goodbye to GTMO

Going to GTMO in September of 2013 gave me a chance to metaphorically start over.  After a difficult transition in my life, I was an emotional wreck.  Living in Libby was a constant reminder of what I thought I had lost and what was broken and could never be repaired.  I am so blessed that my dear friend Kim Lee gave me the suggestion to apply to the Department of Defense Education Activity.  As soon as I applied, it was like a weight had lifted from me.  I realized I did have options.  Sometimes when we are so mired in the muck, we can’t imagine there is a way out.

So with great trepidation and a solid escape plan should moving south really go south,  I ventured to the Caribbean.  And there on a quirky little Navy Base on the end of the island nation that rejected our very existence there, I found my escape from a life that had rejected me.

I always knew that GTMO was not a forever home which probably made me love it more and I sought to know every inch of that place and to experience it fully for the time I had there.  

Deciding to leave was complicated.  I loved so many aspects of my life there.  It was not an easy place to live as anyone who has lived there can attest, but it gets in your heart and you learn to accept the bad with the good.  And there was so much good.

I met so many good people there.  Really, really good people.  People who are now part of my life forever.  They are my GTMO family, my Guantanamigos.  Something about sitting in an air terminal for 6 hours with people is a bonding experience.  Something about sharing the frustration that we are out of eggs, had no candy canes at Christmas, and when is the diet coke going to be restocked?  It was all on a barge somewhere… or on the delayed produce flight or the delayed mail flight… or in Spain with my mail…A lot of lost things are eventually found in Cuba.

I found myself there.  My heart healed and my sense of self-worth was restored.  It is impossible to put into words how transformative my time there was.  I will forever be grateful for this special place in my life and especially for the people who were brought into my life there.  

So why leave, you might ask.  Something in me decided that it was time.  It was time to face the inevitable.  It was time to experience a new adventure.  I applied for an opening in Bahrain.  I was not even sure it was an option I wanted to consider, but as soon as I submitted my application, I felt the spirit gently nudging me to “lean into Bahrain”.  

I have always told my children that if the doors open easily, the path is probably the right one. If you have to push and shove your way through the door, there is probably a reason it is difficult, and maybe you should step back and re-evaluate.  All the doors opened for me to go to Cuba and it was the right path and all the doors opened almost effortlessly for me to come to Bahrain.

I have no idea why I am supposed to be on this path.  I can only tell you that I have had many confirmations that this is the right path for now.  Who would have thought ten years ago as I was walking through the shattered pieces of my former life, that I would be sitting here in the middle east listening to a gentle rain fall on my beautiful garden with the Muslim call to prayer echoing in the distance? 

How I Spent My Memorial Day

I could have gone for a picnic.  I could have visited a cemetery.  I could have done my favorite activity of all. scuba diving.  All of those are perfectly acceptable ways to spend this somber holiday, but none of those things is how I spent my Memorial Day, 2016.

Fifteen years ago this coming September 11th, I watched with horror on the morning news show as the second of two planes hit the world trade center.  My brain was so confused by what I was seeing.  At first I thought they were replaying the first hit… but I realized the first tower was ablaze as the second plane hit… and somehow I had the hardest time getting my head wrapped around the idea that there was a second plane.  Soon reports about the Pentagon and a missing fourth plane starting coming in.  The shock and enormity of the loss was so hard to digest.  It is hard to believe that was almost 15 years ago.

I cannot attempt here to walk through all the ways our country has faced this tragedy.. the moments of heroism as well as the lapses in judgement.  History is complicated.  Recent history is mired in emotion that makes it hard to see the “truth”.

Today, I had the rare privilege of witnessing history and justice wrestling for truth, understanding and closure.  I attended a Military Commission pre trial hearing for the five men accused of conspiring to plan and carry out the 911 terrorist attacks.  According to the Military Commission Website:

Khalid Shaikh Mohammad, Walid Muhammad Salih Mubarek Bin ‘Attash, Ali Abdul Aziz Ali, and Mustafa Ahmed Adam al Hawsawi are charged jointly, in connection with their alleged roles in the September 11, 2001, attacks against the United States. They are charged with committing the following eight offenses: conspiracy; attacking civilians; attacking civilian objects; intentionally causing serious bodily injury; murder in violation of the law of war; destruction of property in violation of the law of war; hijacking or hazarding a vessel or aircraft; and terrorism.

All five of the defendants were in court today with their individual team of lawyers.  The proceedings were not riveting.  There was no OJ Simpson Bloody Glove moment.  The only defendant heard from was Khalid Shaikh Mohammad vocalizing his displeasure that the air conditioning in his holding cell was too cold.  The remainder of the proceedings today rested on two issues … mail and telephone communications.  Although there were many legal nuances related to these two issues, I will boil it down to this…

One, when should non-legal mail (mail not directly related to the defense) be subjected to a clearance process from the Joint Force Troops?

And two, why can’t defense attorneys and defendants communicate via a secured phone line from GTMO to the states?

Let’s just say that the wheels of justice are slow… mired in the mud of minutia.  There are many schools of thought (ok really just a lot of opinion informed and otherwise) for why this is the case.  Here are some of the confounding issues at play.

Transparency.  The government is bending over backward to be as transparent as one can be in a case involving top secret classified material related to the national security of our country.  So we take two steps forward to release information and one step back to keep the barn door from bursting open.

Defense Team Tactics.  The defense is using every tactic at their disposal to delay the trial. Delay could benefit them as the country grows weary of the war on terror and the political will to prosecute diminishes.  Delay could just delay the inevitable.. a death penalty and the execution of their clients; therefore the tactical means justify the tactical ends.

Getting it “right” the first time.  The court does not want to leave itself open for years of appeals .. so justice proceeds slowly in an effort to be thorough.

Maybe all of these are in play.. maybe none of them.  Do you believe in the military justice system or are you a cynic that the same institution that captured and tortured terrorists can be relied upon to adjudicate fairly  the crimes of these individuals?

But at the and of the day… Memorial Day… I am left to wonder about the victims and their families.  Today in the Gallery of the Commission Hearing.. just like any other Commission day.. there were Victim Family Members (VFMs) in attendance.  They are there I am assuming to see justice done for their loved ones .. to bring some closure to this festering wound.

And fifteen years later as the court debates what is non-legal mail and how secure is a phone line from GTMO…  families are still grieving and thousands of dead American civilians and thousands of dead American servicemen and woman are remembered but not really laid to rest.

After the Storm or Nobody does Safety like the Navy

This is the first hurricane season since I have been at GTMO that we have had a couple of hurricanes in the neighborhood. The year before I got here, Sandy had wrecked havoc on our little base and the evidence is still evident, but repairs are being made in a steady (if snail’s) pace.

If you ever track GTMO weather (as my sister has done before she came for a visit), you will notice very little variation in daytime and nighttime temperatures day in and day out. And yes living in a tropical climate is pleasant for the most part (although at times it can be too hot and too humid). This is all well and good, but can be boring. So last week when we had torrential downpours on and off for several days and the temperature actually dropped by 10 or so degrees, well people were downright giddy.

And, just like a Montana winter storm advisory, hope for cancelled school abounded for students and teachers alike.

The Navy (who I think wrote the book on safety) has a quite well-developed system for dealing with hurricanes. During hurricane season, we have Conditions of Readiness (COR) I-V.

COR V is the lowest level. This basically means be alert.. remember it is hurricane season. Buy new batteries for your flashlight and think about getting your hurricane kit in order.

COR IV means that there is a hurricane or developing hurricane in the Caribbean neighborhood and it could head our way. Better make sure you have that kit in order and extra food and water on hand.

COR III means that the hurricane is getting closer and we are going to move the boats out of the marina. Also some MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) facilities and events will be cancelled. Stay tuned to the radio and Channel Four for any updates. If you didn’t get that kit in order.. DO IT NOW. You may have two days if the hurricane behaves itself.

COR II means school is closed! Base residents are encouraged to stay in their quarters. LISTEN TO THE RADIO or WATCH CHANNEL 4 for information. No unnecessary services are available. If you didn’t get your kit in order, you better hope your neighbor’s like you and they have enough to share. If your house is not hurricane proof – be ready to relocate to the designated shelter.

COR I means the hurricane is imminent. No unnecessary travel around base is allowed. We are restricted to quarters. If you didn’t prepare, pray you have enough water on hand. Fill those old water jugs. Dig out the year old pretzels from the back of the cupboard. Hunker down and wait for instructions. Or, if you and the neighbors have enough alcohol have a hurricane party.

Probably the most interesting part of this process is the “big voice”. When changes are made to the COR, it is announced across base on a base-wide intercom. Which is a little hard to hear when rain is coming down in volumes that rival Niagara Falls. This inevitably results in people checking with each other … “Did you hear what the big voice said?” via phone, Facebook or quick drenching runs to the neighbor.

When the “big voice” goes off at school, the entire student body is instantly off task for next 20 minutes. New kids are more than a little confused and anxious about the “big voice” and everyone gives their interpretation of what was said and what it means. In short, chaos ensues.

So Erica came, and we went to COR IV… yawn.

Joaquin came, and we went to COR IV.. yawn… then shortly, we went to COR III… now you have our attention! (At COR II school is closed! Just like a snow day!) Rain is coming in steady streaming bucketfuls, thunder and lightning are adding to the excitement and the wind blows branches off all the palm trees. (Small break in the weather. ) More rain, more thunder and lightning, more wind….small break… repeat.

Flights are cancelled. The barge? Has the barge made it in? There are no eggs at the NEX. No eggs at the mini mart. Need eggs? Better put a request out on GTMO family connection..hopefully someone has some to spare.

No mail on Friday. Did I mention we only get mail three days a week as it is?

Ferry to Leeward side is the U-Boat and onlookers report it looks more like a submarine in the choppy waters.

DODEA area director can’t fly out after braving the u-boat/submarine trip… did I mention there were flight cancellations?

Produce flight cancelled. Produce at the NEX consists of a few bell peppers, heads of iceberg lettuce. leaks, apples, potatoes and garlic.. a surprisingly large amount of garlic. Resembles an episode of “Chopped”.

Saturday, the barge finally made it, but the bay was too choppy to unload. No eggs yet. Also, no SAT… it was on the barge but couldn’t be unloaded. The College Board is not amused. They probably won’t let our kids take it.. for fear they received the answers via our 1994 internet connections.

Sunday, the barge was finally unloaded.. and we have eggs!

No produce flight yet.

Rain is clearing up and I decide to go to Ferry Landing to see what washed up on shore. I went to look for sea urchins, sea glass, shells that washed up on the beach… wait… where’s the beach. The beach is gone. I know this is where I left it.

The Navy did keep us safe, but Joaquin still managed to steal our beach…. sigh!

A World of Possibilities or Que Sera, Sera!

Working for DODEA (Department of Defense Education Activity) has been a blessing for me. Sometimes it is a mixed blessing… like being so far from my children… but mostly it is just a true blessing.

A couple of weeks ago, DODEA announced a transfer round for teachers. This means that teachers who have been in the system at least two years have an opportunity to request a transfer. There are many complicated rules for the transfers and they are only going to grant about 150 of them.

There are three main considerations for transfers.

First, transfers are granted by seniority and by how long you have been in certain areas.

Second, your current location plays a part in your rating for transfer: desirable locations (like most in Europe) require almost 5-7 years in order to be given a higher transfer rating. In Cuba, three years gets a person an A or A+ rating. I only have two years so I am a category F for transfer (that is the lowest category).

Finally, your certification is a consideration. As a special education teacher who can also teach secondary English and Drama, I may have some advantages over others.

At first I had not planned on putting in for a transfer. I really like Cuba for the most part. No job is perfect, but this has many pluses. But my children really felt I should at least try for a transfer, so I did put my application in.

On the transfer application, you have to rank your certifications in the order you would like to be considered. Then you rank the places you would like to be considered for. You can rank by district, country, or school. When I first applied to DODEA, I put in for world wide, but Annie would really like to go to Europe and she has a couple of friends in Europe (teacher’s children who moved last year). So I have applied to 7 schools in Europe.

The schools I applied to are Sigonella (Sicily); Rota (Spain); Sevilla (Spain); AFNORTH (Netherlands); Alconbury (England); Lakenheath MS (England) and Lakenheath HS (England).

One must be very selective about their choices because the rule of transfers is… if you request a transfer you must take it if offered or separate from DODEA. (Yep, that means take the transfer or quit). I am sure this is to keep people from capriciously putting in for transfers. So I had to make sure the places on my list were ones that I could make work for my family.

My chances are pretty small that I will get a transfer. If it is meant to be then it will happen. If not Cuba is good for now.

There are two branches to the DODEA system. DoDDs is the overseas branch and DDESS is the stateside branch. The long time Dodds teachers tell me that Cuba is not really a DoDDs school. We are adminsistrated by the DDESS side of DODEA and this causes lots of issues as the two branches have different Union agreements and different rules on how to play this game. So I am anxious to get to a “real” Dodds school. There are many challenges involved in a transfer and many rewards. So I am not sure if I really want one or not.

In the end I decided, YOLO (you only live once)! So why not at least put my toe in the transfer water and try it out. I will definitely let you know the outcome. We are supposed to hear by March 11th.

As Doris Day used to sing… Que Sera, sera… what ever will be will be… the future’s not ours to see… Que Sera, sera!

Sea Turtles

Dylan Berget rescues baby turtles at Windmill Beach

I never would have thought I would be swimming with sea turtles on a fairly regular basis.  But here I am diving and snorkeling with sea turtles.  Then on two separate mornings during this Christmas season, we found struggling baby turtles on the beach.  So now I feel a connection to these gentle giants of the sea, and have concluded they really are special. There are two types that swim in the waters near Guantanamo Bay;  Green Turtles and Hawksbill Turtles.  So far, I have only swam with the Hawksbill, and I am fairly certain those were the babies we found on the beach.

Since finding then on the beach, I decided to learn more about them. This is what I found out. Both Green Turtles and Hawksbill Turtles are on the Endangered Species List. The Green Turtle can grow to more than 3 feet in length and can weigh up to 400 pounds.  They are estimated to live to be 80 years old. The Hawksbill Turtle grows to about three feet in length and weighs from 150-200 pounds. They are estimated to live from 30-50 years. Hawksbill Turtles return to the beach on which they were born every two to three years to nest.  They can lay up to 5 nests with an average of 130 eggs. The eggs incubate in the sand for about 60 days.  When the babies hatch they take several days to dig out of the nest. This is where life gets pretty dicey for these little guys. Hatchlings are innately programmed to go toward the light.  On a moonlit night, this should be the water.  Unfortunately if there is any artificial light on the beach, baby turtles can get confused and go the wrong direction.  This is what happened to the first baby turtles we discovered.  They were found heading toward the light pole on the beach.  Many of the babies died of dehydration, but we managed to find about 30 that were still alive and get them into the sea. Now normally I would not recommend helping nature.  It is usually best to leave nature to its own devices; however, it was clear that these babies would have died far from the surf had we not intervened.

I hope it was the right thing to do.  I hope we gave them a fighting chance. Another problem for hatchlings are all the natural predators.  The second impromptu rescue effort happened when we showed up to the beach to go diving and found it covered in Turkey Vultures.  We soon found the source of the Turkey Vultures’ fascination:  baby turtles.  Again many of the turtles were headed in the wrong direction and the vultures were having a feast.  The ones we found alive had obviously just made it out of the nest because they were much more robust than the ones we had found on the previous occasion.

Annie Berget : turtle rescuer

Some interesting baby turtle facts… Baby turtles do not have sex chromosomes.  Their gender is determined by the temperature of the sand the eggs were nested in.  Temperatures of 83-85 degrees will result in a mix of males and females.  Hotter temperatures will produce more females and cooler temperatures will produce more males. According to the Oceanic Society, “If the hatchlings successfully make it down the beach and reach the surf, they begin what is called a “swimming frenzy” which may last for several days and varies in intensity and duration among species. The swimming frenzy gets the hatchlings away from dangerous nearshore waters where predation is high. Once hatchlings enter the water, their “lost years” begin and their whereabouts will be unknown for as long as a decade. When they have reached approximately the size of a dinner plate, the juvenile turtles will return to coastal areas where they will forage and continue to mature.” Finally it is estimated that only 1 out of every 1000 hatchlings will make it to adulthood.  We hope we helped to up the odds a little here at GTMO.  In ten years we will need to come back and see how many juvenile turtles are swimming around the shore off Windmill Beach. Hawksbill Sea Turtle

Faces of GTMO: Chris San Pedro, Sr.

Chris San Pedro with a sign he made for a family on base.

I love to talk to people and hear their stories. I love finding connections that remind us we have more in common than not. So I am starting a new series of blogs about the people of GTMO. I have a list of people I hope will agree to let me interview them and put their story here for my friends and family to read. I hope you find these people as interesting as I do.  If I am somewhat vague about someone’s job it is because we are constantly reminded about Operational Security.  I never want to say something about someone that could cause a problem if seen by the wrong person. My first choice is Chris San Pedro Sr.  Chris literally makes his home at the pier.  He is the head mechanic for some of the boats on base.  He must be good at his job, he has worked on base for almost sixteen years.  He is very nice and helpful, but it is his side job that acquainted me with Chris. Like many third country nationals that work on base, Chris finds ways to augment his income by doing side jobs.  Some people do lawn work or housecleaning, but Chris has found a unique niche.  He cleans conch shells and makes beautiful signs, plaques, and paddles that are often used as going away presents. During one of my dives, I was fortunate to find the Conch Shell shown at the top of the page.  It is a Queen conch.  By the thickness of the shell and the amount of calcification on the shell, it is an old one.  Conchs live from 20-30 years and may live as long as 40 years.  I don’t have any idea how old this one is, but it is old.  A friend of mine removed the conch and made an amazing conch stew.  I took the shell to Chris to clean and polish.  Everyone takes their conchs to Chris.  He is THE guy! So one day as I was picking up a conch shell, I started talking to him.  I learned that he has a wife in the Philippines.  Her name is Alice.  He has five children: Shirley  (38), Chris Jr. (35), Robbie (27), Christina (21), and Sally (19).  Chris Jr. and Robbie also work here at GTMO.  That must be nice for Chris because Filipino workers can only return home to the Philippines every two years.  I learned he started cleaning conchs to make money when the US had a base in the Philippines.  He worked on that base and then worked on the base at Diego Garcia for a couple of years. He came to GTMO in 1999.

Chris San Pedro Sr. and Chris San Pedro Jr. with one of their beautiful signs.

Gradually over the years, Chris has bought the tools he needs to clean the conchs and make his signs.  Which is quite amazing since most third country nationals on base make less than minimum wage and since he is supporting his family in the Philippines. Chris has also adopted one of the feral cats on base.  She is well fed.  And by the way Chris treats her, she is well loved. I think she has all the mice she can get plus a few conch.  Her name is Juie.  Her left ear is cropped to let the animal control officers know that she is no longer feral.

Juie, the waterfront cat.

Chris is a hard worker.  He is doing what he can support his family.  He is proud of his work.  He has a book of pictures oft the signs and paddles he has created for base residents over the years.  Today when I stopped in to pick up shells for a friend he showed me a lobster he had mounted for someone.  It was beautiful. When I am sad and missing my family, I need to remember that our Filipino friends have it much harder.  Annie said to me once that life was really so unfair.  So much of your existence depends on where you are born.  If that is the only lesson my children learn from this experience, it has been more than worth it.

What SCUBA Has Taught Me About Courage

John, leading the night dive.

I have completed 37 dives. I am pretty proud of that! That number pales when you compare it to the dive instructors who have 1000s of dives under their belts, but nonetheless, I am proud of this accomplishment for me. I am still a “baby diver” and I have much to still learn, but with every dive I feel more comfortable, more confident, more competent.

No one is more surprised by my love of SCUBA than me. Flying into GTMO for the first time, the person next to me told me that diving was really big here. I thought, “Well that won’t be me.” I have always thought of my self as a “mountain girl” as if I could not be both a “mountain girl” and an “ocean girl”. I thought the two were mutually exclusive.

When my children came for Christmas, I thought that this was an activity they might enjoy trying. At the last minute, I decided to give it a try as well.

We had a great instructor, a fellow Montanan, which made us all feel more comfortable. For me that lasted until we went into the ocean for the first dive. I felt nauseous. I mentioned this to our instructor, hoping he’d say I should wait to dive. He ignored me. As we kicked out for the first time, panic overcame me. “What the hell am I doing,” I thought. “You are way too old for this,” I thought. “I am never going to do this again,” I thought. “Ok, I paid a lot for the class; I’ll finish the class.” I thought. “Then I am never doing this AGAIN!”

Since I did not want to make my children fearful, I kept my thoughts to myself. But I was scared to death! When we finally got out to the buoy, we received some instructions and then had to drop down to the training area. After we practiced a few skills, we swam around a coral head and came back to where we surfaced. I liked the swim. That part was nice.

Each dive after that got better and easier. On our third dive, our dear friend, Mike the Manatee, swam through class which pretty much sealed the deal for me; I was hooked. On my forth dive I found a heart shape piece of coral on the ocean floor that I made into an necklace. For me another confirmation that this was an activity I should stay with.

I completed a few dives with more experienced friends, then I took the Advanced class. At GTMO, in order to dive at certain beaches, you must have this advanced certification. The advanced class offered it’s own set of panic inducing experiences. We dove to almost 100 feet and I had trouble staying at the fifteen foot safety stop. My instructor (same Montana guy) had to have a chat with me which started with the words, “You’re killing me….” I almost ran out of air on the wreck dive because I was having too much fun exploring (never fessed up to the dive instructor on that one cause I would have gotten chewed out again). And then there was my first night dive…

On my first night dive we had about 10 people in the class. I was buddied with a woman who was deployed with the Alaska unit. Her boss was acting as our dive master on the dive.

For Night dives everyone must have two flashlights in case one fails. You go into the water while it is still light out.. at dusk. I had always heard that night dives are soooo cool. You see things at night that you don’t see during the day. I really did want to do one… in theory. We were at the same training location that I had my first dive at, and like that first dive I began to second guess my choice of night dive as one of the advanced class options.

Sgt. Sanchez and I dropped down; we were the last two students in the line. Her boss, Chief Hitchcock was behind us. As we swam, it seemed (to me anyway) to suddenly get much darker. The next person in line in front of me was about ten feet ahead of me. Sgt. Sanchez was behind me. Well I thought she was. I looked behind me and she wasn’t there. I scanned the area with my flashlight. I had this moment of indecision and panic. The group ahead of me was getting farther away. I couldn’t find my buddy. I knew the Chief was behind us, so she was probably fine, but she was MY buddy. I couldn’t leave her, but the others would be out of sight soon. I wasn’t sure where the rope was that you use to get through the surf. What should I do. Stay with my buddy was all I could think of.

Just as I was about to surface to see if Sgt. Sanchez had surfaced, I could see her and Chief Hitchcock hovering above me. The lost was found, and I could still see the group in front of us. What felt like 30 minutes of hell, was probably only about 30 seconds. As it turned out we were almost to the rope, and we easily caught up to the group and exited the water. I of course played it cool, “That was awesome,” I said. If there was anything cool to see, well, I was too nervous to see it. But I had lived to tell the tale, so that felt good.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. My friend, John, an experienced diver with hundreds of dives under his belt suggested we all do a night dive. My new dive buddy, David, was all for it. What could I say, but “sure, sounds like fun.” We were diving at a place further in on the bay that was a bit calmer than the beach where I did my first night dive, so that made me feel better about it. There were four of us. John who has lots of experience and who has such a calm, reassuring presence; Tom, who is a new diver and a little nervous; David, my dive buddy who is always up to try any new dive experience, and me with a few more dives under my belt and a little nervous about the night dive.

Glass Beach has 66 steps to the beach. Divers get their gear on at the top and climb down. (Going down is not so much a problem, but coming up after the dive can be a chore.) John had a camping light that he lit and kept on shore, so we had a light to swim toward. This is an easy beach to get in and out of. We got in and kicked out about 50 yards and decided to drop down. The visibility was pretty poor. You could see maybe 10 feet in front of you. If someone accidentally kicked up silt from the bottom, the visibility got really bad, really fast.

John had his hunting gear with him. He had a lobster snare and a spear to hunt Lion fish with and his fancy lion fish contraption that he places them in. We were heading straight out from the shore. About 20 minutes into the dive, the gentlemen got ahead of me. The silt kicked up, and I could not see them. It was dark out by this time, but there was decent light from the moon. I tried for a minute or so to find them, then I worried I was getting farther away from them. I made the decision to surface. For whatever reason, I was not panicked. I knew that they would realize I was not with them and they would surface. it was a beautiful moonlit night and I could actually enjoy the experience.  It was serene.  A couple of minutes later, they surfaced. We were about 200 yards from shore at this point. We had plenty of air, so we descended and finished the dive. We saw a lot of small lobster. John almost had a huge lion fish, but the best part of the dive for me was I wasn’t afraid. One of the things i was most afraid of happened, getting separated during a night dive, and I was fine. I felt confident that they would surface and find me, and they did. I could see the shore and knew if I had to, I could swim in.

My sister Linda has told me for a long time that I am braver than I think I am. Turns out she is right. Something that seemed like the scariest thing in the world.. getting separated at night… turned out not to be such a big deal. Now don’t get me wrong. I still have a really healthy respect for the ocean and its creatures. I feel I am really safety conscious. My friend John paid me a nice complement yesterday. He said, “What I like about diving with you is you are a “safe diver”.”

I know there are other “scary” challenges out there, but somehow I feel a little better equipped to face them. I can’t wait for the next night dive!

Lessons Learned from the Manatee

My friend Nancy recently had a Cat and three kittens adopt her.  In perfectly Nancy style, she wondered what message the Universe was trying to send her with the Cats (besides the fact that she is an easy mark for kitty handouts).  So she consulted an internet source on animal spirits/totems.  I don’t know how reliable such sources are, but I do believe that God sends us messages and inspiration in times of need, and I do believe that animals are often a source of these messages.  

When I first arrived at Guantanamo Bay, the USGS was doing a study on the Manatee.  They were looking for volunteers to help spot and capture animals that would be evaluated and tagged for research purposes.  I went to the training sessions, and learned all about the manatees.  I was so excited to be a part of this project.  My job was pretty low key… spot from the beach and be part of a land-based capture if the opportunity arose.  I wasn’t part of any captures, but I did spot them coming up for air.  That was a good start.

But my love affair with the manatee really began when the picture above was taken.  If you have been reading my blog, you are aware that I learned to SCUBA dive this year and on my third open water dive (along with my son, Dylan and daughter, Annie) we had a manatee swim through our class.  As I watched him (for some reason I believe he was a male) swim by, I felt like he looked right at me.  I felt a connection with him. I felt he was there just for me. For days afterward, I was almost giddy thinking about this manatee swimming through class.  

One day, as I was driving down Sherman Avenue (GTMO’s main drag), I was struck by the thought that I was truly happy, in that moment.  Because of recent life events, I had not felt that way in a long time… close to four years.  I had been working on “faking it until you make it” as the saying goes, but in that moment I was NOT faking it.  

I have thought a lot about that manatee and volunteered on the next capture endeavor.  So when I read Nancy’s Facebook post about looking up the spirit/totem of the cat, I thought I should see what my friend the manatee was sent to tell me.

From the website spirit-animals.com

Manatee
“Let go of your need to control the outcome and allow the universe to generate a solution.” -Manatee

If Manatee has made his presence known in your life;

It’s time to slow down and take the time to swim through your emotions. Let your emotions wash over you so that you can feel what is all percolating there. By allowing yourself to feel you are also allowing yourself to move forward and as you move forward you release the old emotional baggage that no longer serves you. This will open up a new wide range of possibilities for you.

Trust is also a big message that Manatee brings forth. Allowing yourself to move forward slowly and deliberately one step at a time will take you to your goals. Trust the path before you and trust your senses in guiding you there.

This creature is also reminding you to use all of your senses including the etheric ones. You will find your answers in the integration your intuition, emotions and physical senses.

 

Wow!  Yep that is a message I needed to hear.  

Feelings:  My emotions have been intense the last few years, but I have managed to stuff them down and hide them.  If I am ever to heal; I have to feel.  I’ve known this to be true, and who can argue with a thousand pound manatee?

Trust: I  have felt like this new path I am on is the right one.   I am trusting the path, but I am not really sure where it will lead.   In the past, all my trust had been placed somewhere unworthy of it.  My trust was abused and I am scarred and scared.  Most of all I have come through this reluctant to trust even my own instincts …  This is my mountain to climb.  It seems I will have to trust myself before I am going to ever learn to trust another fully.

Integration of intuition, emotions, and physical senses:  I used to be good at this.  I used to know when someone was hurting; when they needed a listening ear or space.  At some point I stopped listening to and trusting that inner voice. When that happened, I stopped being fully present for others. I have to learn to trust that inner voice so I can help myself and be friend, parent, sibling I want to be. I have been too preoccupied with my own needs, and that disables relationships and forces a person to lose valuable perspective on life. 

As the manatee says, I need to… “Let go of my need to control the outcome and allow the universe to generate a solution.”  

In other words… Let go and let God.  I have had this lesson a lot; evidently, I am a slow learner.

 

GTMO Graduation

Well the school year is winding down and last Friday we graduated 17 Seniors from W.T. Sampson High School. Yep, that is the number 17.

So fun to be a part of celebrations that mark the start of new adventures for young adults.

First, I am proud that Annie’s boyfriend, Alex Rodriquez (no not THAT one) was named Valedictorian. They waited until seniors had finished their exams and final grades were posted to make the announcement. So Alex had one day to write a speech. I have to say it was endearing to me that he used Pokemon imagery to draw a metaphor of how he and his classmates have grown and changed. Some of his teacher’s didn’t quite appreciate it… but as a mother of boys from that era…I totally got it.

Alex and Selena are in shock to find out that they are Valedictorian and Salutatorian and have one day to write a speech.

There is no auditorium at the school, so we hold graduation at the Chapel. Since this served as W.T. Sampson’s first home, I think it is appropriate that we have graduation there.. even if it isn’t “politically correct”. The Church is one of the oldest structures on base still in use. It is beautiful. It houses both Catholic and Protestant services.

View of the chapel taken by my friend and photography club member, Dan Frasco. Yes, Alex and Salena you have to address this crowd!

Graduation on a military base has it’s advantages. This Marine Color Guard marched the flags in with precision worthy of honoring the President.

The Marine Color Guard presenting the Flags for the Graduation Ceremony. This picture was taken by my friend and photography club member, Maria Trias.

One of the highlights for me was the Commencement Address. Rear Admiral, Richard Butler, commander of the Joint Task Force at Guantanamo Bay, gave the address. Admiral Butler and his wife had hosted the students of W.T. Sampson for Prom just a few weeks prior to graduation. They made a genuine effort to get to know the kids that night. Admiral Butler had some wise words for the graduates, but what he did at the end of the address is what impressed me the most. He took the time to congratulate each member of the class by name, individually. Now you may be thinking, “So what, he can read a list of seventeen names.” That is not how it went. I watched as he looked from student to student as they sat in their chairs and addressed them personally.. in a few cases the students given name is not the name their friends call them.. For example Alex’s first name is Christian. In every case Admiral Butler called the student’s by their nick names, and never once did he consult a list of names. He commands one of the most controversial military units currently in operation. He was in the midst of increased scrutiny in the aftermath of the exchange of five GTMO prisoners for the last American POW. Yet he took the time to make sure he knew these 17 students by name.

Finally, when there are only seventeen of you graduating, everyone can take the mike and thank their loved ones for attending. It was so special to see each graduate have their moment in the “sun”. One student apologized to his mother for being a jerk for fourteen years. His emotional outpouring to his mother was spontaneous and heart felt and made me cry. He said coming to GTMO literally saved his life. He was on a bad path. Today he is looking forward to joining the service.

A loving community can do that for a person. And GTMO is that. It is a community of people who care for one-another, who take the time to learn your nick-name even when they’ve had a bad day at work, who understand that the future is in the hands of our youth, and it is up to all of us to give them the tools they need to take their hand at the wheel. With these seventeen on board, I think our ship of state is in good hands. It won’t always be smooth sailing, and there are sure to be rough seas ahead, but I am confident that these students have many amazing ports of call awaiting them.

Congratulations Class of 2014.

Prom GTMO Style

Annie, Julia, Anna, Mykelle, and Sierra arriving at Officer’s Landing

Prom traditions vary from school to school, but I have to say GTMO does it up right! First of all all high school students are encouraged to attend – All 45-50 of them. And for the most part, all students do attend. The venues change slightly from year to year, but the choices are limited. This year’s prom committee settled on holding the prom at Rear Admiral Butler’s house. The Admiral wanted to host the event. The Admiral has his own dock (seems appropriate for an Admiral), so transportation to the dinner venue was via U-Boat. The base Commanding Officer, Captain Nettleton, accompanied the students from the Admiral’s home to the Restaurant.

U Boat transports Prom attendees from Admiral Butler’s home to the Bayview Restaurant. Captain Nettleton is on the Deck.

Annie and Alex on the way to dinner.

The Bayview offered a beautiful buffet dinner.

The nicest restaurant on base is located in one of the older buildings. It used to be considered a “country club”. The restaurant closed to all other customers on Prom night.

After dinner, the students returned to the Admiral’s home by U-Boat. Here they danced the night away to music provided by a DJ. One of the charming traditions of GTMO is that each class has royalty. The freshmen vote for a Lord and Lady; the sophomores for a Duke and Duchess; the juniors for a prince and princess; and the seniors for a King and Queen. Annie was nominated for Lady, but her friend Anna was crowned.

Dinner, Prom, and Picture Book from Prom cost the students 25.00 per single and 40.00 per couple, but the memories are priceless!

Gotta love the heals!