Freedom in a Can: Adventures with Hamlet

  The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.   – Marcel Proust Calling it a “staycation” might not be totally fair since we just arrived back in the area a few short weeks ago.  While we’re certainly not tourists, claiming to be locals isn’t exactly honest either.   In the past five years, Leelanau County, Michigan, perhaps more than anywhere else, could qualify as home simply because we’ve spent more time here.   During that time, and all the years I’ve been coming here since college, I never really thought about going camping.  Being at my parent’s cabin was the whole point of coming “up north.”  We never even laid down our sleeping bags further away than the back deck overlooking the west arm of Grand Traverse Bay -- and we loved it.   No matter what we might call it, the forecast promised dry, warm weather and we aimed to take full advantage of it.  Le...

My third-grade class was a little different.  Instead of desks we sat in couches, loafed in bean bags or sat cross legged on the carpet while our teachers opened our young minds. Twenty years before the internet, we had a H.A.M radio which reached around the world to operators in Alaska, Poland and Antarctica.  This was our world wide web in the 1970’s, and every week we gathered around the console as the glass tubes warmed up and waited for the world to come in.    As a class, we struck up a friendship with Brian at a distant research station near the South Pole and held regular chats with him.  His updates and letters exposed us to a bigger world in a way that no lecture, book or film could.  Sitting around that receiver as our teacher turned dials and aerial controls we held our breath until she reached the specific frequency which brought Brian into our lives once again.   After two or three weeks of radio silence, he walked away from hi...

The matriarch charges forward claiming the land on which she will make her stand.  She stares directly into the windshield of the small, white van like a prize fighter.  Ears flared, trunk reaching forward in warning, eyes angry, massive bulk ready to charge…this elephant means business.  Needing no interpreter, she clearly communicates, “Back, the FUCK, off!” Our van is behind the nearest, offending vehicle, but I’m wishing I could ease our Toyota Hi-Ace into reverse and give this pissed off pachyderm some more space.  Shari fires the shutter release of her Canon at 5 frames per second, hoping upon hope that any might be in focus.  Ahead of us, the driver keeps his cool and we all hold our breath waiting to see if Big Mama will back down.  A few tense moments go by until she’s satisfied that the van isn’t coming any closer; they’ve gotten the message.  She lowers her long snout and with one satisfyingly low rumble, an elephantish “harrumph,” saun...

By way of greeting, “how are you!” is less of a question and more of a statement on the English language taught in primary school here in the village.  This is the one phrase that everyone knows, and the children scream it at us whenever they can.  “Mzungu! Mzungu! How-ar-yoo!”  Returning their waves and smiles with a, “I’m fine, how are you?” is an endlessly entertaining enterprise repaying our small output with a gaggle of giggling children scurrying away, returning only seconds later to reenact the scene. This morning we wake earlier than usual to help the TRAKLAP team bring in the corn from one of their fields.  It’s been since high school church group that I’ve harvested corn by hand.  I recall tedium and chaffing in equal measure soon after the initial curiosity of learning how to use the cornhusker tool wore out.  Once mastered, I settled into a hectare length row and tried to think of something, anything, other than what I was doing.  Th...

We left the African continent over two years ago, after only a month in the Peace Corps.  We’d spent years dreaming about it and then many long months preparing our lives to be abroad for 27 months.  Selected to serve in agriculture in Senegal seemed like a good fit for our interests and skills.  We felt ready for the challenges of culture, work environment and language, but were utterly undone by something over which we had no control.  The nighttime temperatures, hovering in the 90’s, denied us both any restful sleep.  When we pulled the plug, it was both swift and effective.  We had exactly 1 hour to tell our host family we were leaving for good, and then it was back to the city and an airplane to return us to the western world and sweet sleep.  #firstworldproblems… But not all dreams will let go, despite setbacks as serious as that seemed.  One of PC Senegal’s inspiring staff members said to us upon leaving; “only you can decide how ...

Note:  We are currently seeking representation for promotion and publication for our manuscript, " Freedom in a Can: A Mid-life Crisis in 72 Square Feet" By David Hutchison with Shari Galiardi Book Excerpt: The Rig – Our dear Hamlet , the purchase that changed everything I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.  -Maya Angelou We ate pancakes at the little kitchen table in our tiny camper home the morning after it arrived in our driveway and into our lives.  It was cozy and almost quaint with a warm wood interior, but each corner and crevice revealed the cumulative toll of 55 years. Uncomfortable springs poked through the fabric of the ancient dinette seat bringing new clarity to what vintage really means.  The pungent smell of mildew competed with the reassuring aroma of pumpkin spice and maple syrup.  As we ate, we tried hard to imagine ourselves sleeping, cooking, or even just hanging out in here for any amount of time...