This was, in my opinion, one of the most boring papers I've written, but Fielder still gave me 15/15, so I guess it's a good one.
Obama’s Moratorium
According to the New York Times, 48,500 barrels of oil are spilling into the Gulf every day. Every day because of someone’s careless mistake, 48500 barrels seep into the ocean-ruining ecosystems, killing marine life. President Obama ordered a moratorium on permits for offshore drilling, but this cannot reverse the mistake already made. Off-shore drilling should continue; however, stricter regulations and more investigations of off-shore drilling permits are necessary to ensure that the explosion that took place on April 20, 2010 will not happen again.
Although the moratorium was supposed to halt any new off-shore drilling permits after April 20, according to the New York Times, “federal regulators have granted at least 19 environmental waivers for gulf drilling and at least 17 drilling permits, most of which were for types of work like that on the Deepwater Horizon shortly before it exploded, pouring a ceaseless current of oil into the Gulf of Mexico.” If stricter regulations were followed, the illegal permits granted would not have been granted in the first place. The moratorium will also help government agencies get to the bottom of the original problem-the explosion on April 20.
The moratorium is already helping the government agency, Department of the Interior, crack down on BP. Interior Secretary Ken Salazar said at a news conference, “If we find they’re not doing what they’re supposed to be doing, we’ll push them out of the way appropriately.” President Obama seems to share my opinion on the matter and said, “It seems as if permits were too often issued based on little ore that assurances of safety from the oil companies. That cannot and will not happen anymore.” Not everyone shares my opinion.
Some would say that the moratorium is already failing and new regulations would be almost impossible to enforce-not to mention expensive. A law professor named Daniel J. Rohlf stated, “The moratorium does not even cover the dangerous drilling that caused the problem in the first place.” Current regulations are being glossed over to ensure that the big oil companies are happy, not caring if workers are safe or not. If new regulations were to be adopted, this would create more confusion and companies would continue to skate over the rules in place for safety.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Extra Credit
This piece was my second favorite paper to write, following the paper I wrote this morning for the final. We were told to do a cultural analysis paper on our book of choice. I read the book A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.
“Learn this now and learn it well, my daughter: like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that Mariam.” From her earliest moments, Mariam found this to be true. It was no wonder she found Laila’s companionship to be a lifeline. Women in Afghanistan do not have any rights and must stick together if they wish to have any companions. As infants men are set high above women-receiving the best of every meal and having new gifts and clothes bought for them while girls receive the left-overs. Women need each other to keep going; everyone knows without friends to gossip with, women go a bit insane. In the book A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini it is evident that due to the lack of freedom for women in Afghanistan, a very close bond is needed to survive in the unhealthy patriarchal society they live in.
Many women were in relationships with men where they were cruelly neglected and verbally and physically abused. When Mariam and Laila attempted to escape a relationship like the one described above, their lives only got worse. “Ever since the failed escape, two and a half years ago, Mariam knew that she and Laila had become one and the same being to him, equally wretched, equally deserving of his distrust, his disdain, his disregard.” (245) the man who they depended on for food, shelter, and emotional support shut himself out of their lives. Mariam and Laila had to depend on each other for the emotional support that a husband is supposed to provide in American culture. Women in the United States have countless family members, friends, and organizations to help them get out of abusive relationships. In Afghanistan, there is no help. When Laila implied that Rasheed would kill not only herself but also Mariam if the officer sent them home after their attempted escape, the officer simply said, “What a man does in his own home is his business.” Mariam and Laila knew to keep the rights they had they needed to look out for each other.
To keep the few rights they had, women knew they had to look out for each other. The Taliban would not allow male doctors to see female patients so female doctors were required; they knew they needed to be very careful to keep their jobs. ‘“They want us to operate in burqa,” the doctor explained, motioning with her head to the nurse at the door. “She keeps watch. She sees them; I cover.”’ Their agreement is like setting a pick in basketball. You have their back; they shouldn’t have to ask for a pick. Your teammate knows they can depend on you to step up and clear the lane to the basket. Your reward is having the satisfaction of knowing without your pick, your teammate would have a very hard time getting to the basket, and probably would have gotten caught on their way. Having a close bond and looking out for each other saved many lives, and many more from beatings.
The close bond between Mariam and Laila saved Laila’s life. Mariam knew one of them would have to give themselves up and receive the punishment for killing their husband Rasheed or both she and Laila would die-she chose to give Laila, the younger wife, a mother- a chance at the life she dreamed of but could never achieve. Mariam looked out for Laila. Laila, as hard as it was to let go, accepted Mariam’s sacrifice and did not waste the gift that Mariam gave her.
“And so Laila resigned herself to moving on. For her own sake, for Tariq’s, for her children’s. And for Mariam for who still visits Laila in her dreams, who is never more that a breath or two below her consciousness.” Even after death, the companionship that made their lives bearable under Rasheed’s hard rules still lessons the blow of living a hard life. Even though Laila was in a relationship with Tariq, a man who would do anything to make her happy, she relied on the memory of Mariam’s silent strength- the bond they shared-to get through every day.
“Learn this now and learn it well, my daughter: like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that Mariam.” From her earliest moments, Mariam found this to be true. It was no wonder she found Laila’s companionship to be a lifeline. Women in Afghanistan do not have any rights and must stick together if they wish to have any companions. As infants men are set high above women-receiving the best of every meal and having new gifts and clothes bought for them while girls receive the left-overs. Women need each other to keep going; everyone knows without friends to gossip with, women go a bit insane. In the book A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini it is evident that due to the lack of freedom for women in Afghanistan, a very close bond is needed to survive in the unhealthy patriarchal society they live in.
Many women were in relationships with men where they were cruelly neglected and verbally and physically abused. When Mariam and Laila attempted to escape a relationship like the one described above, their lives only got worse. “Ever since the failed escape, two and a half years ago, Mariam knew that she and Laila had become one and the same being to him, equally wretched, equally deserving of his distrust, his disdain, his disregard.” (245) the man who they depended on for food, shelter, and emotional support shut himself out of their lives. Mariam and Laila had to depend on each other for the emotional support that a husband is supposed to provide in American culture. Women in the United States have countless family members, friends, and organizations to help them get out of abusive relationships. In Afghanistan, there is no help. When Laila implied that Rasheed would kill not only herself but also Mariam if the officer sent them home after their attempted escape, the officer simply said, “What a man does in his own home is his business.” Mariam and Laila knew to keep the rights they had they needed to look out for each other.
To keep the few rights they had, women knew they had to look out for each other. The Taliban would not allow male doctors to see female patients so female doctors were required; they knew they needed to be very careful to keep their jobs. ‘“They want us to operate in burqa,” the doctor explained, motioning with her head to the nurse at the door. “She keeps watch. She sees them; I cover.”’ Their agreement is like setting a pick in basketball. You have their back; they shouldn’t have to ask for a pick. Your teammate knows they can depend on you to step up and clear the lane to the basket. Your reward is having the satisfaction of knowing without your pick, your teammate would have a very hard time getting to the basket, and probably would have gotten caught on their way. Having a close bond and looking out for each other saved many lives, and many more from beatings.
The close bond between Mariam and Laila saved Laila’s life. Mariam knew one of them would have to give themselves up and receive the punishment for killing their husband Rasheed or both she and Laila would die-she chose to give Laila, the younger wife, a mother- a chance at the life she dreamed of but could never achieve. Mariam looked out for Laila. Laila, as hard as it was to let go, accepted Mariam’s sacrifice and did not waste the gift that Mariam gave her.
“And so Laila resigned herself to moving on. For her own sake, for Tariq’s, for her children’s. And for Mariam for who still visits Laila in her dreams, who is never more that a breath or two below her consciousness.” Even after death, the companionship that made their lives bearable under Rasheed’s hard rules still lessons the blow of living a hard life. Even though Laila was in a relationship with Tariq, a man who would do anything to make her happy, she relied on the memory of Mariam’s silent strength- the bond they shared-to get through every day.
Friday, May 21, 2010
China/Tibet
China's new policy of regulating Tibetans' use of copiers is a violation of human rights.
Tibetans now have to get a new permit from the government to own a printing or photocopy shop. They will also have to take specific information down about their clients and what the clients wanted printed. China put this policy in place without the knowledge of the people. One explanation of the government's action came from a Han Chinese woman who owns a printer shop named Wu, "You know sometimes people print documents in the Tibetan language, which we don't understand. These might be illegal pamphlets." The part of the policy including taking down client information is a violation of human rights. There is not a huge difference between that and hacking into email accounts through Google. This policy is only a stepping stone for the Chinese government being able to have complete control over the Tibetan population.
Tibetans now have to get a new permit from the government to own a printing or photocopy shop. They will also have to take specific information down about their clients and what the clients wanted printed. China put this policy in place without the knowledge of the people. One explanation of the government's action came from a Han Chinese woman who owns a printer shop named Wu, "You know sometimes people print documents in the Tibetan language, which we don't understand. These might be illegal pamphlets." The part of the policy including taking down client information is a violation of human rights. There is not a huge difference between that and hacking into email accounts through Google. This policy is only a stepping stone for the Chinese government being able to have complete control over the Tibetan population.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Drivers Ed
Monday this week was my first day of drivers education. I was really looking forward to it, but I'll be honest, I was nervous, and still am nervous. I figured out on Monday that I was one of the three future drivers in my class to never have driven a car before. This made me even more nervous. The instructor at this point seemed okay. Sure he was strict, but whatever, I wasn't planning on causing trouble. However, yesterday, my opinion of my instructor went down hill. He is a cop and I still respect him, but his sexist views and opinions continue to become more and more evident. He feels that women rely on men to pay the bills and are totally unable to provide for themselves and children after the husband will inevitably leave them. Sure, thirty, forty, fifty years ago, this was the case, but in this day and age, that attitude is unacceptable, and frankly makes me angry.
He, like many ignorant men, seems to believe that women cannot fend for themselves, which I'll be honest, some cannot. But when women risk their lives by your side every day, respect them. Do not call them weak or defenseless.
I can never tell when he is joking or being serious about using violence to solve situations, and this scares me. When asked if he had ever used his gun, he said something along the lines of, "Nope....not yet! Waiting for someone to give me a reason to though." These are the kind of things that make me afraid; the answers that are violent and degrading, you are never sure if he is serious or not.
Along with his low opinion of women becoming independent, he is not too politically correct when it comes to dwarfs and others of a shorter nature. During a discussion about dwarfs during class time, when we should have been talking about parallel parking, he brought up the freak show in the circus. We all laughed in disbelieve and his insensitivity to the subject.
It is his kind of ignorant attitude that disgusts me. You cannot live in the 21st century and hold those ideas about women in your head. Sure I will continue in that class to get my permit, I will be respectful, but I know I will be angry with him as long as I am in that class. I cannot understand how someone whose job it is to enforce the law equally among everyone he pulls over on the highway can do so when he has these opinions.
He, like many ignorant men, seems to believe that women cannot fend for themselves, which I'll be honest, some cannot. But when women risk their lives by your side every day, respect them. Do not call them weak or defenseless.
I can never tell when he is joking or being serious about using violence to solve situations, and this scares me. When asked if he had ever used his gun, he said something along the lines of, "Nope....not yet! Waiting for someone to give me a reason to though." These are the kind of things that make me afraid; the answers that are violent and degrading, you are never sure if he is serious or not.
Along with his low opinion of women becoming independent, he is not too politically correct when it comes to dwarfs and others of a shorter nature. During a discussion about dwarfs during class time, when we should have been talking about parallel parking, he brought up the freak show in the circus. We all laughed in disbelieve and his insensitivity to the subject.
It is his kind of ignorant attitude that disgusts me. You cannot live in the 21st century and hold those ideas about women in your head. Sure I will continue in that class to get my permit, I will be respectful, but I know I will be angry with him as long as I am in that class. I cannot understand how someone whose job it is to enforce the law equally among everyone he pulls over on the highway can do so when he has these opinions.
Friday, April 30, 2010
SIMUN Blog
SIMUN was at first a nerve wrecking terrifying unfamiliar experience. I didn't believe Mrs. Bergeski when she said it was fun and the older Globies help you out; however, I was wrong. SIMUN was a fun and educational experience which usually don't go together. It was fun because of the interaction with older kids that you have never met before. You also have to stand and speak up instead of just listening your teachers. It was very interesting for me because my county, Zimbabwe, would be considered one of the bad guys in most of the scenarios. It was kind of a challenge to fully give 100% when you yourself would do exactly opposite of what your country would do; for those three days in SIMUN, you aren't you, you're your country. The best part of SIMUN was asking questions after a junior gives a speech and they are not able to give a straight answer.
Over all, for my first year in SIMUN, I don't think I did too bad. I'm not a big fan of public speaking, but I did give my fair share of speeches, especially on the first day when my country was in the middle of the scenario. I helped write recommendations, gave speeches standing up for not only myself, but also pleading my allies' cause, and asked questions of the chair and the speakers. I definitely was not the most vocal in my group-that falls to Cuba-but I did speak a lot. If the scenario on the first day hadn’t been about my country, I know I wouldn't have had the courage to say much for the other two days.
To prepare for SIMUN, I did what every other Globie in my class did-look up the answers for the questions Mrs. Bergeski had us answer. Going to website based in different countries really gave me an idea of how other countries felt about Zimbabwe. I along with my fellow freshmen Globies, freaked out in between questions about how hard this would be. Since my older brother was in Global Ed, I called him a few times to ask him about SIMUN, how it worked, how nervous should I be, etc. He and his reassurance that SIMUN was fun probably helped me as much as the research did. Although I looked up my allies, I wasn’t really all that sure on where I stood with certain countries in my group.
Next year, I will definitely spend more time looking up Zimbabwe's relationships with other countries. Luckily, I knew China was my ally, along with other small African nations, but the only country I knew Zimbabwe was on horrible terms with was the United States. So I generally stayed away from European countries like Germany, France, and Denmark, along with the United States.
Over all, for my first year in SIMUN, I don't think I did too bad. I'm not a big fan of public speaking, but I did give my fair share of speeches, especially on the first day when my country was in the middle of the scenario. I helped write recommendations, gave speeches standing up for not only myself, but also pleading my allies' cause, and asked questions of the chair and the speakers. I definitely was not the most vocal in my group-that falls to Cuba-but I did speak a lot. If the scenario on the first day hadn’t been about my country, I know I wouldn't have had the courage to say much for the other two days.
To prepare for SIMUN, I did what every other Globie in my class did-look up the answers for the questions Mrs. Bergeski had us answer. Going to website based in different countries really gave me an idea of how other countries felt about Zimbabwe. I along with my fellow freshmen Globies, freaked out in between questions about how hard this would be. Since my older brother was in Global Ed, I called him a few times to ask him about SIMUN, how it worked, how nervous should I be, etc. He and his reassurance that SIMUN was fun probably helped me as much as the research did. Although I looked up my allies, I wasn’t really all that sure on where I stood with certain countries in my group.
Next year, I will definitely spend more time looking up Zimbabwe's relationships with other countries. Luckily, I knew China was my ally, along with other small African nations, but the only country I knew Zimbabwe was on horrible terms with was the United States. So I generally stayed away from European countries like Germany, France, and Denmark, along with the United States.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Pakistan Simum Question
Where would Zimbabwe stand if the Taliban was gaining control in Pakistan, the government was about to fall, and the government falling would put nuclear weapons into the hands of the Taliban? What if the United States soon sent troops and got involved? Where would Zimbabwe stand? This is a tough call because although the United States and Zimbabwe do not get along, Zimbabwe has a cordial relationship with Pakistan. According to Wikipedia, Pakistan promised to back Zimbabwe by saying, “stand by Zimbabwe in its challenging times and continue to render assistance in every way possible in an effort to cement the already cordial relationship between the two countries.” Zimbabwe would be caught between supporting the United States, something Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe’s president since 1987, would hate to do, and helping out a country that said it would help them. In the end, I do believe Zimbabwe would support the United States decision to send troops into Pakistan to stabilize the government so that Zimbabwe can have their continued help with the controversial issues that Zimbabwe gets itself into. Zimbabwe does not have very many allies and needs to keep all the good relationships it can get. Also, Zimbabwe can use the experience of helping the United States out as a good way to stay in their good graces and get out of tight spots with the United States at a later date.
Free Write-A Thousand Splendid Suns
For those of you who haven’t read A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini, it is a story about two women trapped in an abusive marriage, both physically and verbally abusive, in Afghanistan. The younger of the two, Laila, was told that her boyfriend was killed and therefore since her parents were killed, she should marry Rasheed, the abuser. Mariam, Rasheed’s first wife, had several miscarriages, but no children, so Rasheed was not happy with her and treated her much worse than he treated Laila, who was young and beautiful.
This book really opened my eyes to how dramatically different a woman’s place is in Afghanistan compared to a man’s. Men are allowed to beat their wives, and at one point, after a failed attempt at running away, the women were caught and questioned by an officer. They feared for their lives. ‘“If you send us back,” she said instead, slowly, “there is no telling what he will do to us.” She could see the effort it took him to keep his eyes from shifting. “What a man does in his home is his business.”’ The way that women took this abuse and how easily men got away with it, without a care in the world, honestly made me angry. Also, before the Taliban took control, some men were looked down on because of how lenient they were when it came to controlling their wives. While some women were allowed to wear only a scarf, lipstick, nail polish, some were even allowed to smoke.
Once the Taliban came in control though, the ideas were stomped out. Women were not even allowed out of the house without a male relative. Laila, who was forced to put her daughter in an orphanage because they could not afford to feed her, risked being beaten to see her daughter. She even tried multiple times a day to see her daughter if she was seen alone the first time. She soon learned to wear extra layers of clothing to soften the beatings she received from the Taliban posted along Kabul’s streets.
When Laila was pregnant with her second child, men and women were no longer allowed to be treated in the same hospitals. The women’s hospital that she was forced to go to was basically a riot; Taliban guards had to guard the doors to treatment rooms. When Laila was in labor, she found she needed a caesarian section; the hospital had no drugs, clean gloves, and no x rays. All the money for hospitals either was turned away because it was charity, or given to men’s hospitals.
This book really opened my eyes to how dramatically different a woman’s place is in Afghanistan compared to a man’s. Men are allowed to beat their wives, and at one point, after a failed attempt at running away, the women were caught and questioned by an officer. They feared for their lives. ‘“If you send us back,” she said instead, slowly, “there is no telling what he will do to us.” She could see the effort it took him to keep his eyes from shifting. “What a man does in his home is his business.”’ The way that women took this abuse and how easily men got away with it, without a care in the world, honestly made me angry. Also, before the Taliban took control, some men were looked down on because of how lenient they were when it came to controlling their wives. While some women were allowed to wear only a scarf, lipstick, nail polish, some were even allowed to smoke.
Once the Taliban came in control though, the ideas were stomped out. Women were not even allowed out of the house without a male relative. Laila, who was forced to put her daughter in an orphanage because they could not afford to feed her, risked being beaten to see her daughter. She even tried multiple times a day to see her daughter if she was seen alone the first time. She soon learned to wear extra layers of clothing to soften the beatings she received from the Taliban posted along Kabul’s streets.
When Laila was pregnant with her second child, men and women were no longer allowed to be treated in the same hospitals. The women’s hospital that she was forced to go to was basically a riot; Taliban guards had to guard the doors to treatment rooms. When Laila was in labor, she found she needed a caesarian section; the hospital had no drugs, clean gloves, and no x rays. All the money for hospitals either was turned away because it was charity, or given to men’s hospitals.
Friday, March 26, 2010
The Tooth Fairy
One day my friend, his name will be changed to protect the innocent, Bob, wore a tutu-a purple one. It had flowers. At this point, you are questioning my sanity, and I don't blame you, but this is a true story. Now at my old school, St. Paul's in Farmington Hills, every year we had a week that celebrated our school's orientation you might say-Lutheran Schools Week. Lutheran Schools Week was filled with assemblies, some entertaining, some not, and field trips. Wednesdays in this important week celebrated the people who encouraged this education; they were called V.I.P. Days. Now teachers usually planned some big hullabaloo to show off their amazing class, and that year was no different. My teacher, Mrs. Pascual, and young, almost fresh out of school teacher, decided to show off her class' acting abilities in a serious of short plays (I personally do not have that ability.) She divided the class up into five or so groups and each got a different play that they were expected to memorize and provide costumes for. The play I received was about a bunch of fairy tale characters meeting up; I was Sleeping Beauty. My friend Bob's was about a little girl harassing the Tooth fairy for more money. Bob, fearless and ready for any snickers he knew he was going to receive, was the Tooth fairy. One of the girls in his play just happened to be a ballet for many years and had a tutu that would fit him, uncomfortably, but it would fit. His entire ensemble included: jeans, tennis shoes, a basketball jersey (to make sure all of his manliness wasn't completely destroyed), a baseball hat with a paper crown taped on it, and the amazing tutu. On the day of the play, he went into the big storage closet conveniently located in the 5/6 grades classroom and changed into his costume. When he was done crying over the loss of most of his manliness, he came out of the closet, no pun intended.As a friend from my old school said when asked about V.I.P. day in 5th grade, "He was like a mystical fairy... He danced so merrily like deer in a forest... It would have been so beautiful if he wasn't a guy." After the parents got over his hysterical outfit, they soon learned he was fearless and had a great respect for the boy who wore a purple tutu -with flowers-in front of a crowd.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Free Blog
By now, almost everyone knows about the tragic and fatal crash on the luge track in Vancouver that took place before the opening ceremony. Georgian Olympian, Nodar Kumaritashvili, had a fatal accident on the luge track that he was said to be afraid of competing on earlier. Officials and organizers from Vancouver say that the accident was not caused by “deficiencies in the track,” but by Kumaritashvili’s own inexperience; however, the Georgian Olympic committee’s chief, Giorgi Natsvlishlili, blames the track, “I exclude the possibility that Nodar was not experienced enough. From my point of view the track was at fault.” There had also been around 70 crashes in the days leading up to the accident; only after the accident was a wall built and the starting point lowered. An Olympic hopeful in February 2009, after officials wanted to him to start from the highest men’s starting point said it “would be suicidal” and even further explained his refusal by saying, “I had heard enough horror stories. Every athlete treats this track with the upmost respect. Nearly every athlete is scared to death of this track.” The officials did not try to fix the known problem spot on the course or allow other countries more runs on the course, despite their many requests.
However, the Canadians technically did no wrong according to an international official. A spokesman for the Whistler Sliding Centre, John Gibson, said, “We have actually surpassed the requirements set forth by the international sport federations in terms of athletic access.” Canadians were allowed more practice time after it was discovered that athletes were reaching speeds over the maximum speed of the track, 85 m.p.h. Kumaritashvili only had twenty-six runs in comparison to the average of 250 runs the Canadians got, which I feel played a big role in why this accident happened. Many of my questions are questions that many are asking. Why was the course not changed before this crash happened, even though there had been over seventy more crashes? Why was a home advantage more important to the Canadians than the safety of young athletes? I say young because Kumaritashvili was only a mere 21 years old when he died.
The most disturbing thing about this whole tragic fiasco is it could have been easily avoided if more precautions had been taken. For instance, officials could have listened to the athletes fears of the track being too dangerous, but instead they decided to do nothing.
However, the Canadians technically did no wrong according to an international official. A spokesman for the Whistler Sliding Centre, John Gibson, said, “We have actually surpassed the requirements set forth by the international sport federations in terms of athletic access.” Canadians were allowed more practice time after it was discovered that athletes were reaching speeds over the maximum speed of the track, 85 m.p.h. Kumaritashvili only had twenty-six runs in comparison to the average of 250 runs the Canadians got, which I feel played a big role in why this accident happened. Many of my questions are questions that many are asking. Why was the course not changed before this crash happened, even though there had been over seventy more crashes? Why was a home advantage more important to the Canadians than the safety of young athletes? I say young because Kumaritashvili was only a mere 21 years old when he died.
The most disturbing thing about this whole tragic fiasco is it could have been easily avoided if more precautions had been taken. For instance, officials could have listened to the athletes fears of the track being too dangerous, but instead they decided to do nothing.
Friday, February 12, 2010
The angry foam rushing by was as loud as ten semi trucks rolling along the highway. The White Salmon River was a river full of hatred seemed to feed on my ever growing fear of drowning. My family was in the great and beautiful state of Oregon and about to risk our lives by going white water rafting.
We started this beyond petrifying experience by squeezing into wetsuits and going over what and what not to do if you ended up falling out of the flimsy yellow raft and hit your head on a rock. One major rule was, under no circumstances were you to touch the bottom of the river unless you wanted to sink down into the rock bed that turned to quicksand at the lightest touch.
As we began our journey down this crafty river, it seemed our raft was looking for ways to throw me into the clutches of the bone chilling ten degree water which rolled straight off the back of a nearby mountain. Slowly, I began to realize that the river would have to do a lot more than rock me back and forth to get me out of the raft. I was soon being rocked to sleep! I wouldn't be tired for long though.
At one point in the river made a sharp bend that even a one person kayak couldn't get through. We had two choices, we could jump off a twenty foot cliff into the rocky water below, or crawl along jagged rocks so sharp they could cut through just about anything. Me, not feeling too adventurous, opted out of the cliff jumping, and went for what I believed to be a safe choice. The woman walking in front of me slipped quite a few times, almost pulling me in with her when she finally did fall. But this was not the most dangerous part of my rafting experience.
Farther along the river, there was an optional 15 foot waterfall you could go over. My entire family decided to try it. It took a while to convince me though. I had good reason to be afraid. You were expected to keep one hand, the one holding your paddle, outside the raft, which I just could not do, which resulted in my mom's teeth almost being knocked out. Now, I should explain how we were seated in the raft. My dad, my brother, and a bag of sand named Bob, were all in the front row, making the front end too heavy. My mom and I were in the next row, my sister behind us, and the guide behind her. When we went over the waterfall, we were under way too long. When we finally surfaced, I had thought I broke my arm because I was holding on a rope on the back of my seat and had completely flipped over. My sister and the guide had both disappeared, and we had no clue where either were. It was a moment of pure chaos. I had no idea where I was due to the pain in my arm. Eventually everything straightened out, we found my sister, and my arm was not broken. But I will never forget the day I went white water rafting.
We started this beyond petrifying experience by squeezing into wetsuits and going over what and what not to do if you ended up falling out of the flimsy yellow raft and hit your head on a rock. One major rule was, under no circumstances were you to touch the bottom of the river unless you wanted to sink down into the rock bed that turned to quicksand at the lightest touch.
As we began our journey down this crafty river, it seemed our raft was looking for ways to throw me into the clutches of the bone chilling ten degree water which rolled straight off the back of a nearby mountain. Slowly, I began to realize that the river would have to do a lot more than rock me back and forth to get me out of the raft. I was soon being rocked to sleep! I wouldn't be tired for long though.
At one point in the river made a sharp bend that even a one person kayak couldn't get through. We had two choices, we could jump off a twenty foot cliff into the rocky water below, or crawl along jagged rocks so sharp they could cut through just about anything. Me, not feeling too adventurous, opted out of the cliff jumping, and went for what I believed to be a safe choice. The woman walking in front of me slipped quite a few times, almost pulling me in with her when she finally did fall. But this was not the most dangerous part of my rafting experience.
Farther along the river, there was an optional 15 foot waterfall you could go over. My entire family decided to try it. It took a while to convince me though. I had good reason to be afraid. You were expected to keep one hand, the one holding your paddle, outside the raft, which I just could not do, which resulted in my mom's teeth almost being knocked out. Now, I should explain how we were seated in the raft. My dad, my brother, and a bag of sand named Bob, were all in the front row, making the front end too heavy. My mom and I were in the next row, my sister behind us, and the guide behind her. When we went over the waterfall, we were under way too long. When we finally surfaced, I had thought I broke my arm because I was holding on a rope on the back of my seat and had completely flipped over. My sister and the guide had both disappeared, and we had no clue where either were. It was a moment of pure chaos. I had no idea where I was due to the pain in my arm. Eventually everything straightened out, we found my sister, and my arm was not broken. But I will never forget the day I went white water rafting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)