Rixie's VirtualTourist Home Page

I saw these sculptures of the Blues Brothers at Chicago-Midway Airport, and they made me smile. Sometimes it's the random things you see during your travels that stay with you. Examples from my own experiences:

Wild turkeys in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, running across the road in a line

The old woman in County Meath, Ireland, who said her family had cared for the cemetery since the time of William the Conqueror

Rainbows painted over the Waldo Tunnel near the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco

Hundreds of roller bladers in the streets of Paris, France

Catching a glimpse of Mexico from the opposite shore in San Diego

A list of dorm rules at the Navajo Community College in Many Farms, Arizona: "Keep the noise down after 9 PM. Leave the bathroom as clean as you found it. Don't cut up the blankets. . ."

A young woman and old man spontaneously dancing together to live music in Sproul Plaza at the University of California, Berkeley

I like listening better than talking.

It takes me a while to decide if I like someone, but once I've bonded with him or her, I'm a loyal friend.

I'm a chain reader and feel rich when I have a stack of new library books at hand.

I live to eat and can't understand people who only eat to live.

Family and friends are most important to me, and my kids are the light of my life. This photo shows me with the hula aunties, a group of wonderful, wise, and funny women.

My VT handle was chosen out of desperation. I had typed in several names in succession but had received the message that none of them was available.

I thought, "Okay, I can sit here for an hour, trying name after name, OR... I can plug in the most unusual name I've ever heard and be done with it." And, bingo! "Rixie" worked. So now if the original Rixie ever decides to join VT, she's flat out of luck. :)

In February 2006 and February 2007 I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity in St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana (counties are called "parishes" in Louisiana), doing relief work after Hurricane Katrina.

2006 - My team of 12 hailed from 7 states and included students and grandmothers. Together we worked to remove debris from damaged houses and strip the interiors down to the framework. It was the hardest physical labor I’ve ever done, but it was a very powerful and rewarding experience, and I was amazed to see what ordinary people, working together, were capable of accomplishing.

Chalmette is located SE of New Orleans in St. Bernard Parish, which was devastated by four major disasters in the space of a few weeks: Hurricane Katrina, a levee breach, a spill at Murphy’s Refinery involving one million gallons of oil, and Hurricane Rita. Of Chalmette’s 27,000 residences, only three were deemed inhabitable post-Katrina, and six months later, it is still a ruined ghost town. Few businesses have been able to reopen because their employees have nowhere to live. “Gutting” houses is an important first step in the recovery process: once their homes are done, families are allowed to move back and live in trailers in their front yards.

I'm very grateful to my company, which offered two weeks paid leave to any employee volunteering for the recovery effort.

2007 - Low point: Building a fence in the pouring rain and accidentally dropping my camera into the running gutter. As a result, I have few photos.

High points: Working on rebuilds with three of my teammates from 2006 and having a joyful reunion with the retired couple whose house we worked on last year. Meeting interesting people, e.g. Boogie, the Cajun cab driver who took me on personal tours of St. Bernard and the Ninth Ward; Sheralee, a local resident trying to have her home rebuilt; Scott from Arizona who worked with us the first day and then joined the Camp Hope staff; the high school boys from NY who painted a house with us; Dee, the homeowner who took time off from a grueling 12-hour shift at the hospital to bring lunch to us.

Recovery efforts are progressing, but they’re painfully slow. In Chalmette where we worked in 06, the streets are now clear of debris, and cars are parked in front of the houses – a very hopeful sign. However, entire shopping centers are still boarded up: only 3 grocery stores and 1 pharmacy have reopened. To buy clothing or housewares, Chalmette residents have to drive 30-40 minutes. Those who are trying to rebuild their homes are tangled up in red tape. It is terrifically discouraging for them, but I was so impressed by their optimism, their strong family ties, and their community spirit. I was inspired by this quotation, which was painted on the wall at Camp Hope: “We can do no great things - only small things with great love. – Mother Teresa.”

More volunteers are still needed. Almost 2 years after Katrina, St. Bernard Parish is still a devastated area, and hurricane season is upon us again. I urge you to consider signing up for this project. This is a rare opportunity to contribute in a people-to-people way.

For more information about the St. Bernard Parish Recovery Project , see New Orleans Area Habitat for Humanity, and please feel free to ask me any questions.

If you're interested in seeing more about this trip, take a look at my New Orleans page and my New Orleans travelogues on Team Ted, Digging Out After Hurricane Katrina, and Mardi Gras 2006.

Coming soon: 2007 photos

I chose Dixie the Tiny Dog as the symbol of my Louisiana working trips. Dixie is the character in an amusing song by singer/composer Peter Himmelman (who, by the way, is Bob Dylan's son-in-law). People call Dixie a wiener dog, which offends her: she prefers the more formal German “dachshund.”

She know that bigger dogs can do things that she can’t, like drink out of the toilet bowl, but she still feels good about herself and her own abilities. She is feisty and independent, the way I see myself. Not that I want to drink out of the toilet bowl. Not lately, anyway.

For some reason, Himmelman has never released his song on any of his CDs, although he has recorded it for radio stations. KFOG in San Francisco, where I heard it, and City 97 in Minneapolis have included it in their annual collections, which now sell on ebay for around $40.

You can hear two different versions of it on Himmelmanfans and Peter Himmelman -- click on Reservations – Audio – Dixie the Tiny Dog.

When I was growing up, airports seemed almost like sacred places, gateways to exotic, far-off lands. Whereas some kids chose to hang out in malls, my friends and I sometimes drove to the international airport 10 miles from our town and spent the afternoon wandering around. We'd watch planes land and depart, and we'd choose the flights that we'd be on if we were rich and famous and didn't have to be home in time for dinner.

I still remember the first trip I took without my parents. I was a senior in high school, and three girlfriends and I flew to Mobile, Alabama, to see a classmate of ours compete in the Junior Miss Pageant. We stayed in a hotel all...by...ourselves (!!), toured the Bellingrath Gardens, and watched rehearsals in an empty auditorium. Whenever I hear someone grouse about the lack of leg room in coach and how upgrading to business or first class is the only way to fly, I remember how thrilled the four of us were to be sitting, cheek to jowl, in that cramped little airline cabin.

In the years since then, I've witnessed incomparable sunsets in Santa Fe, watched a golden eagle soar over the Grand Tetons, heard the Preservation Hall Jazz Band wail in New Orleans, seen the fog roll in in San Francisco, been spoon fed by a Frenchman in Paris. I've hiked down country roads in Ireland, past impossibly green fields ("It rains a lot," the locals agreed glumly), been transfixed by the sweet fragrance of a lei stand in Honolulu, crossed a swaying suspension bridge in British Columbia. I've discovered that people are more alike than they are different, and I've become convinced that world peace can best be achieved on a person-to-person basis. So many countries, so little time!

Sidebar: I'm very glad to have found the Virtual Tourist website and am looking forward to sharing some of my travel memories, but please be patient with me. It may take me a while, as I'm totally hopeless when it comes to anything mechanical. My theory of aerodynamics: the plane goes up in the air, a giant hand comes out and changes the backdrop, and the plane comes down again. Hey, makes sense to me!

I just found an old clipping from the June 18, 2000, edition of the San Francisco Examiner, about travel wisdom. Here are a few pieces of advice:

"When they say, 'Don't pet the animals,' take the advice very, very seriously." -- Amanda Jones, writer

"If you don't think it's possible for a flight from Los Angeles to Rio de Janeiro to be 19 hours late because of a snowstorm in Japan, you haven't traveled much." -- Dave Murphy, career search editor, SF Examiner

"Wanting to go someplace is as important as going there." -- Seamus O'Banion, writer

"In Italy if a restaurant's name includes words such as vecchio (old), antico (ancient) or piccolo (small), rest assured that it will be neither ancient, nor old, nor small -- and certainly not cheap." -- David Downie, writer

"If tourists don't go there, maybe there's a reason." -- John Flinn, travel editor, SF Examiner

"Never pack more than you can run with." -- Christine Delsol, assistant travel editor, SF Examiner

"In Russia, vodka bottles are generally not restoppable. If one is opened, it is meant to be emptied." -- Richard Sterling, writer

"When three guidebooks recommend the same restaurant, consider asking a local for another suggestion." -- Bruce Gerstman, writer

"No trip planned with friends after the third bottle of wine will ever happen." -- Flinn

". . .or should happen." -- Jones