A LAMB, A PUPPY, A NEW PET

We met Cinde Jeheber, aka, the Ocelot Whisperer, in Costa Rica last year. Cinde volunteered with us at at the Monkey Park Foundation, where we prepped food for various animals, such as monkeys, marmosets, and one sultry female ocelot. 

Last week, we heard from Cinde in Nicaragua, where she traveled to build houses for the homeless. Between hammering nails and digging holes, she found a scared little puppy so shaggy it looked more like a little lamb than a dog.

She asked Carmen, one of the women her team was building a house for, if she could use her water to wash the puppy. They scrubbed it clean and dried it, and from then on, the little dog kept going into Carmen's new house and laying down, as if he lived there.

After a while, Cinde decided to ask the new home owner if she would like a puppy. Immediately, Carmen started crying, saying “I've been loving outside for 15 years all alone, now I have a house and a dog!"

And that's how Cinde's Random Act of Kindness to a lamb-looking puppy helped a lady get her first dog. 

Thanks for continuing to give back, Cinde! You inspire us!

OUR FINAL BOAT TRIP

Yeah, this is not the boat we took. Ours is the sailboat in the top right corner...the Luka.

From the earliest days of this voyage, our luck with boats has been something less than stellar.

Early readers of the blog will remember the original Boat Trip From Hell, as we sailed/drifted for 12 days from Palau to the Philippines with two Germans on their small, not-exactly-modern sailboat. 

Forgetting those painful lessons learned on the Pacific, we tried sailing again months later in Madagascar, this time spending nearly 20 hours crammed into a narrow, dugout ocean-going canoe with a sheet for a sail and the entire Indian Ocean (but no privacy) for a bathroom.

More months and thousands of miles had passed. Surrounded by stunning seas, Panama was the final stop of the trip. The San Blas were some of the most scenic islands we'd ever seen. And we'd soon enough be land-locked back home for who knows how long. 

So yeah, you know where this is going. We decided to sail again. On a boat. Overnight.

But this time, we chose wisely.  

While eating fresh-baked bread and drinking strong Panamanian coffee at the only bakery in Potobello, we overheard three American twenty-somethings talking about a boat trip. From what we could hear, they would be sailing later that day, heading through the San Blas Islands and on to Colombia. 

Naturally, Liz leaned over and said, "Excuse me, did you say you're leaving on a boat trip?" 

Half an hour later, we had already met the Luka's capable, friendly, and honest captain, Bea, who was running around town like a mad woman provisioning the boat in prep for their five-day trip. We told her our plans (a one-night trip in the San Blas was all we had time and budget for), and she said, "Sure, you can have my cabin and we'll drop you off tomorrow somewhere you can catch a motor boat to where you need to go next." 

Like our captain Bea, we spent most of the day running around Portobello buying stuff for our trip. We also squeezed in time visiting the remains of the 400-yr-old fort, watching a soccer game played atop cannons hauled on Spanish galleons, and looking out over the deep bay, the supposed burial place of THE Sir Frances Drake, whose lead-encased body no one's ever found.

We did see an interesting liquor selection at one of the two stores in town that sold booze -- Abuelo rum, Night Train (really?), a fifth of Tanqueray gin for $10, and something called Kentucky Cream whiskey, none of which we tried.

If you do make it to Portobello, a quintessential but gritty sailor town Jimmy Buffet sings about in "Cowboy in the Jungle," you may as well try to meet up with Captian Jack. The pony-tailed, wanna-be pirate is a teller of tales and schemer of schemes who knows just about all there is to know about the surrounding area and far beyond. He also serves quality food, cheap rum and decent rooms if you don't mind bunk beds and a little noise. We loved it.

But the real reason you come here is to catch a boat to places further afield...and so we did. Less than 12 hours after we met our American friends and Captain Bea, we were sailing the Caribbean on a 52-ft ketch, sipping rum, seeing the sea and petting the Luka's official living mascot, Wacek, seen below.

After a peaceful night among a ludicrously starry sky, we shared a filling breakfast with our fellow passengers before disembarking at El Porvenir, a tiny strip of sand and palm trees that hosts a hotel, a recently-paved runway and the San Blas Guna General Congress. 

Here, we took a group photo with our fellow travelers as they departed for Colombian and Kip had to go meet with the big boss (Speaker of the House?) to negotiate our motor boat back to the mainland. 

All in all, it was one heckuva way to spend some of the final days of our trip...and more importantly, to re-affirm our faith in sailing, not to mention in our decision-making abilities when it comes to boats.  

Big thanks to Luka, Captain Bea and the crew! 

WALKING DOGS IN SOUTH AFRICA

Kip walks a rescued yellow lab at the SPCA in George, South Africa. 

The following story appeared in the George Herald, the local paper of the town where we stopped to volunteer on a drive along South Africa's famous Garden Route:

YANKS VISIT GEORGE SPCA

The Garden Route SPCA received some surprise visitors last week from the United States.

Liz Zipse and Kip Patrick, a married couple from Washington, DC, are volunteering their way around the world and stopped by the SPCA during one of its twice-weekly "animal socialization" sessions.

While at the facility, the couple joined a group of animal-loving George volunteers who walk dogs, cuddle cats and play with puppies, all of which are up for adoption.

"Our time at the SPCA in George was some of the most fun we've had in 10 months of volunteering all over Africa and Asia," said Liz Zipse, who, with her husband, is volunteering at least one day every week of their trip.

"The animals love the attention they get from our volunteers, and the volunteers really enjoy their time with our dogs and cats, which stay with us until we can find them a permanent, loving home," said Senior Inspector Salomé Botha. 

"We were happy Liz and Kip picked the Garden Route SPCA as part of their weekly volunteer activities... and were delighted that they took out memberships as well... our first American members!"



The SPCA welcomes volunteers to walk dogs and socialise puppies and cats. (Volunteers must be 16 or over.) The sessions take place 2.00pm to 4.00pm every Wednesday and 9.00am to 11.00am on Saturdays. 

For information on how you can become a volunteer, call Heather at 072 877 2911. For more information on the travels and volunteer activities Liz and Kip, visit their website at www.1of7.org.

ANIMALS LIKE LIZ

No matter where we go, animals gravitate toward Liz. Stray dogs, feral pigs, even schools of fish 100 feet underwater. Sometimes it's as if she's a cross between Ace Ventura Pet Detective and Steve Carrell in Evan Almighty, except way better looking (says Kip). 

Which is why going anywhere with her can take hours extra if any type of animal is within a quarter mile of us. Why should the trail up to Mt. Everest be any different?

We struggle uphill past a mule loaded with 100 kilos of rice, and Liz stops ten minutes to scratch his head. She sees an emaciated dog reeking of yak dung and she walks over and gives the smelly pooch a hug. And of course, the animals love it, costing us even more time.

Here are just a few examples of the countless Liz-caused delays cleverly disguised as animal encounters that we've already experienced on the trail so far. 

Yet another puppy-caused "delay."

We called this horse Tina Turner because of her hair.

A baby goat or "goatling," as Liz called him, asked Liz to scratch his tiny horns. 

Kip finally gave up and tried out a friendly "Liz style" hello to a baby yak. As noted in the photo, the yak was not amused.

This young yak wants to know where Liz is.

DOG DAYS OF FALL

Our neighbor's dog Tennyson--not a fan of leaf gathering. 

Why do they call it fall? Because that's what leaves do this time of year.

Gravity-challenged and short-lived, leaves transform in November from verdant shade givers into red, yellow and brown billboards announcing the arrival of autumn and, worse, the impending return of another winter. It's a little like the finale of a fireworks show--brilliant to watch, but man, it sure does get dark soon after.

Another interesting thing about leaves, at least here in the city, is that they cover virtually every single thing along the many oak-lined streets, like ours. That includes the tiny yards, parked cars, flower beds and narrow sidewalks. The volume of fallen foliage, while nice to look at, will quickly clog storm drains and basically clutter up the place.

Time for 1 OF 7. Put on a jacket, grab a rake, sling the camera over a shoulder and out in the wild streets we go to protect DC's drainage system and tidy up the 'hood a bit. Turns out raking your way down a leaf-covered sidewalk is fun. Neighbors come out and talk. Kids do what kids instinctively do when they see a leaf pile (minus the lit matches). The best part had to be watching the confused canines, particularly the smaller ones, as they sniffed and yawned and peed and played their way down the street, disappearing under the islands of fallen leaves we left behind, before launching themselves from underneath, dog and owner as happy as should be expected while sober on a breezy Friday in November.

Volunteering doesn't have to be hard or far from home. It doesn't need to be planned in advance. Sometimes the opportunity just falls right in front of you.