Wearing the World

“There is no bad weather, only bad clothes” say the Swedes and ain’t that the truth. Went off snowshoeing in this Winter Wonderland just outside of Yosemite and I was well-prepared. Sturdy boots, rain pants, thick wool sweater, home-knitted hat, thick gloves and after a mile of hiking, I was hot! 

 

Returning to the cabin, I began to peel the layers away and paused at each one. The sweater was gifted to me in Iceland in 1995 and as noted in the last post, I rarely have the occasion the wear it in temperate San Francisco and it sits dormant in my closet. My colleague Sofia was given the same gift at the end of our first Orff course we ever taught together and we still laugh remembering how we took a walk to a hill overlooking Reykavic and looking out over the red-tiled roofs and charming architecture, I turned to Sofia and said “I like Europe.” There was a long pause of silence and a confused look on her face and then she finally said, “What did you say? “ “I like Europe,” I repeated and she looked relieved and confessed, “Oh, I thought you said, ‘I like your rib.’”

As for our lovely Icelandic hosts, we’re still somewhat in touch with Kristine, Elfa and Nanna and happily so.

 

Taking off the rain pants and boots, I remembered buying them for the six weeks in 2003 I first taught the Special Course at the Orff Institut. I lived in the nearby village of Anif and bicycled the 20-minutes through the beautiful landscape— and in all kinds of weather. Because it was March and April, I biked regardless of rain, wind, or snow— and was well-prepared with my boots, and rain pants. It was one of the most marvelous times of my life— immersed in beauty every day, the excitement of living on my own in a new place, teaching what I love in the historic center of the Orff Schulwerk, working with 16 people from some 10 different countries— Spain, Italy, Thailand, Taiwan, Japan, Greece, Turkey, Finland, Iceland, the U.S., many of whom I’m still in touch with. 

 

My undershirt while snowshoeing was from Australia with a logo of the National Conference I taught at in 1994. Another memorable time, not only my first time in Australia, but a time of rampant bush fires and people being evacuated. My work was well-received, I met a lovely group of people and just had a reunion with some 15 of them last year on a return trip to Australia. My host back in ’94 was Margie Moore and I have had the grand pleasure of keeping touch with her throughout the years, most recently with her and her husband serving as tour guides last May on our trip to Oxford. 

 

Amongst many memorable stories from that first Australia trip was a woman participating in a folk dance I taught carrying a big purse. I was mildly irritated, feeling like she should know she needed her hands free. So I walked over and offered to put it off to the side for her. She reluctantly handed it over and thank goodness I didn’t just toss it to the side. Because when I sat at her table for lunch, I noticed she seemed to me nursing something with a bottle—and it was a joey! A baby kangaroo who had lost its mother, so her purse was acting as a pouch and that’s why she carried it with her into the dance!

As for the hat, my Orff student/colleague Laura Ruppert, knits them and this past Fall, at the end of a memorable visit to Seattle staying at her, she gifted one to me. Keeping your head warm is one of the prime strategies for warming the whole body and this was does the trick admirably. Besides many memorable moments we shared in workshops and courses, Laura came to sing with me at the Jewish Home for couple of years, alternating between singing jazz standards and then dipping into an Opera repertoire that was her training. She moved to Seattle a couple of years ago and the Home residents miss her dearly, as do I when I go there to play. But now I have her hat as a reminder! 

 

And so the clothes I wore today warmed me twice. Once keeping my body temperature regulated and once kindling the fires of warm memories recalling when I first wore each item and what I was doing and who was with me. We are our stories and it’s an interesting notion that everyday, we wear some of our history and literally carry it with us. 

 

And what are you wearing today?