Dale Says

Tulipmania
Parallels have been drawn between the dot-com Internet stock frenzy and “tulipmania,” a similar situation in 17^th century Holland. In 1634, tulip bulbs became a status symbol for Dutch upper and middle class people, and over the next three years, much of the population engaged in tulip trading. Homes, farms and property were mortgaged to finance the purchase of tulip bulbs, which at times sold for thousands of dollars apiece. Traders began to care less about the flowers than the fortune they might make. Three years later the bubble burst, and bulbs sold for a fraction of what they had a few days earlier. The Dutch economy was shaken to its roots, and while the tulip trade did not disappear, it took years to get back on its feet

We noticed them first from the windows of the bus, as we rode to the start of our bicycle tour near the northern Holland town of Hoorn. Piles of purple and red tulips had been cut and moved to the edges of the flat, green fields. The driver patiently explained them to us.

“They’re tulip blossoms. The growers cut them to divert energy to the bulbs. The bulbs are the valuable part.”

So we sat and stared at what must have been millions of tulip heads, waiting to be turned into compost. We thought how precious they would be back home, and wondered if they were used for anything.

“Some of the growers tried feeding them to their pigs,” the driver said. “But pigs don’t seem to care for them much.” We didn’t know then how much we would connect with those piles of tulips, each in our own way. We took hundreds of photos of them, and jumped in the piles, and threw handfuls in the air.A couple of us made “tulip angels” by lying in the piles and flapping our arms and legs, as though in a pile of snow. Our Christmas cards that year included a photo of us buried in a pile of red blossoms, each of us holding a tulip by the stem in our mouths, like flamenco dancers.

Make Room for Water
The Dutch have always had a love/hate affair with the sea. They rely on it for agriculture and transportation, but they have fought for centuries against its floods, which have wreaked havoc on the land. They have grown to think of water as an adversary, to be collected, contained, and sent back to the sea. Over time, they have worked out a covenant with the sea, which they call “uimte voor water” make room for water.

We rode through headwinds and rain to Kinderdijk, to see the windmills. Only six of us made it all the way; the rest either chickened out and stayed in bed or turned back part way through the day. The six survivors included Joanne, a spunky woman in her 70s, who with her husband, Ted, was a veteran of more than 20 bicycle tours.
As we approached our destination, the windmills emerged through the mist like gigantic electric fans. We were impressed with their magnitude and as we rode closer with the size of their blades. One of them was open to the public, and we went in, feeling like the tourists we were. The entrance was small (about the size of a public elevator). It smelled musty  the smell of dampness. We climbed the steps to the keeper’s quarters, at the midpoint of the blades. There was a small wooden bed, a washbasin, and an arched window. We looked out the window, over the canal, where our windmill and its 18 companions stood as lonely sentries, guarding the polder.
As the giant blade passed our window, its shadow temporarily blocked the light. We felt the power of its movement, gathering force as it sped downward, then pulled back up by centrifugal force and the strength of its hub. We weren’t prepared for the whooshing sound that followed in the wake of the blade’s passage. We stood for a moment in awe of this mighty force. It reminded us of the beautiful, yet terrible struggle of man against nature  a battle the Dutch (and mankind) will likely continue to wage as long as we are around to fight it.

Kukenhof
In the 15^th century, Dutch countess Jocoba van Beiren gathered flowers and herbs for cooking in the woods of her estate south of Amsterdam. This pristine place was known as “keukenhof,” or kitchen garden. In 1949, the estate was turned into Keukenhof Gardens, an 80-arce showcase of tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, and other flowering bulbs that flourish in the rich coastal soil near the town of Lisse. The gardens, which consist of six million flowering bulbs, include exhibits, art shows, and a summer flower displayA defining moment of our bicycle tour of Holland came at the end of a long, tiring day of riding. We had pedaled into a cold wind for hours, and the final destination was a place we had heard about, read about, and eagerly looked forward to the famous Keukenhof Gardens.

As we rounded yet another bend, the wind still blowing string, we had to reach a little deeper to keep from turning back. But around this bend, to our surprise, the wind delivered a sweet perfume  a fragrance in the air. Fields of purple hyacinth surrounded us, their bell-shaped buds in bloom, casting their aroma in the air for all who passed by to enjoy. We stopped our bikes and stood inhaling the elixir. It made us forget our freezing hands and aching muscles and made it all worthwhile. Now we could ride on forever if necessary.

At Keukenof, we were enthralled by the colors, made even more vibrant by the grayness of the day. We walked past beautifully mixed plantings of every kind of tulip, which stood in perfect unison: armies of splendidly-cloaked soldiers, tall and proud, their brightly-colored headdresses a perfect symphony of color.

About the author:
Dale Fehringer is a freelance writer, editor, and documentary video producer. He spends his free time exploring the world and occasionally writes about his adventures. Dale lives in San Francisco where he shares office space with his wife, Patty, and cat, Molly. He can be reached at 415.602.6116 or by email at dalefehringer@hotmail.com.

Like the island they live on, the women of Amantani are isolated. Their homes are on an island not much larger than a small U.S. city and the nearest town is four hours away by boat. They seldom leave the island. Like most of the world’s women they raise their children, run their households, and cook and care for their families. In addition, these women also tend the family livestock, work in the fields, and supplement family income by weaving textiles.

To say their lives are difficult is understating the case.

Few Conveniences
The women of Amantani have living conditions that are harsh by western standards. There are no cars, or televisions, or even in-door plumbing (wooden outhouses serve as their bathrooms).

Amantani is a beautiful and peaceful small island in Lake Titicaca, which is in southeast Peru. Lake Titicaca is roughly twice the size of Lake Tahoe, and at 13,000 feet, is the highest navigable lake in the world. Amantani is populated by around 800 families who live in six villages on the basically circular 15-square kilometers island (roughly the size of a small US city). There are two mountain peaks, called Pachatata (Father Earth) and Pachamama (Mother Earth), and ancient ruins on the top of both peaks. The hillsides that rise up from the lake are terraced, and planted with wheat, potatoes, and vegetables. Most of the small fields are worked by hand. Stone fences separate the small fields and help contain livestock. Cows, sheep and alpacas graze the hillsides. There are no cars on the island, and no hotels. few small stores sell basic goods, and there is a health clinic and a school. Electricity is limited to a couple of hours each day. Some families on Amantani offer a meal or overnight stay to tourists, arranged through tour guides. Guests typically take food staples (e.g., cooking oil, rice, sugar) as a gift.They run their households without washing machines, microwave ovens, or vacuum cleaners — which wouldn’t be of much use anyway, since electricity is limited to a couple of hours a day. They live in small mud brick houses furnished with a few simple pieces of furniture. Their kitchens are in separate small buildings, and they cook on stone stoves fueled by twigs and sheep dung. The nearest supermarket is four hours away, and shopping is limited to a few basic necessities at tiny neighborhood stores. For the most part, the women of Amantani eat what they grow. The lake provides fish, and they raise vegetables, grain, and livestock for meat. A typical meal consists of soup, rice, potatoes and fried cheese. Colorful Dress
Their dress is colorful and decidedly different from other women in Peru. They wear long black head shawls, which furnish shade and warmth, and long-sleeve white blouses embroidered with images of birds and flowers. They also wear brightly colored pleated skirts, hand-woven belts, and leggings to protect them from the cold. Their clothing is a bright spot on an otherwise colorless island. Lives of Dignity and Grace
Despite their many responsibilities and few conveniences, the women of Amantani seem happy. They cope with their isolation by developing close relationships with families and friends, and respond to their hard lives with determination and resolution. Despite their hardships and shortages, they lead lives of dignity and grace.  Note: For photos, go to www.womenof.com

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