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Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Incident at Site 9
Incident at Site 9
My husband was one of the men defending the Newport Bridge two days before the city fell. He was with the soldiers who huddled together and pulled the pins on their grenades after fighting for three days and nights on the far side of the bridge. When the men realized their situation was hopeless and they had no ammunition left they did not retreat into the city. They waited until dawn so the enemy could watch them. Only then did they so defiantly take their own lives. They were not afraid of death.
Not long after that a line of enemy tanks snaked onto the road, slowly crossed the bridge and entered the city. As they passed the place where the defenders made their final stand, the boys sitting on top of the tanks stared in awe at the torn and bloody ground.
My husband left no suicide note. No letter. One day he was defending the road to our home and the next day he was no more. He left me with our 5 year old daughter.
Thousands of terrified people fled the city that last week. I know now I should have joined them. I saw the helicopters and planes carry them away. I saw the packed buses and cars race through the streets toward the American embassy and the river. I waited for my husband to find me. I was lost without him. When I heard he had died I wanted to die, too, and be with him. But what might happen to our daughter after that? I was confused. All I could do, it seemed, was watch and cry.
After the enemy occupied the city I stayed inside my small apartment and ventured outside only to buy food. A sympathetic neighbor gave me two little flags – one North Vietnamese and the other Viet Cong – so I could display them in my window. In all of the windows up and down our street the new flags blossomed one morning like spring flowers. The flags of the defeated Republic of Vietnam disappeared.
I burned my husbands letters, awards, clothing, degrees and photographs – along with our wedding certificate -- and quietly whispered prayers as all evidence that he'd ever existed turned into ashes.
When I learned that Thuan was gone, that many eyewitnesses later reported what had happened, had watched the Marines calmly commit group suicide form the other side of the river, something inside me died too. The belief that life had meaning evaporated in an instant. That part of my heart that harbored and nourished romantic love also took flight. I believe I would never love again, could never give myself to anyone again. My life was truly over. I walked and talked and interacted but inside I was all ashes.
If I had followed my impulse after that I should have gone to the center of the city as North Vietnamese tanks triumphantly paraded past and I should had thrown myself beneath their treads. I should have jumped into the Saigon river and drowned myself. I should have cut my wrists and my throat.
But I did not. I did not because only I was responsible for the life of Thuy. My relatives were far away and out of touch. Thuan was gone. The innocent child now depended completely on me. She was my only reason for living. Without me she might perish also. And I felt she deserved better. She deserved at least the chance that I had been given, to live and to search for happiness. Perhaps she might find it. But for sure she needed me to guide her and to protect her.
She was terrified in those days. She watched me crying and tried to comfort me. Climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck and held her face to mine. She was afraid of what I'd do, that I too might flee. At first her affection merely deepened my own despair. But in time she gave me the determination I needed to go on living.
And so I did.
Thuan was a scholar. I fell in love with him when I first saw him readying in a small café in Danang near my home. He was slight, intense, with wide eyes and he wore a pair of wire rimmed gold glasses. He smiled at me when he looked up. A few days later I stopped to ask what he was reading. He told me. That is how it began. The was the fateful spring when the Americans began arriving in great numbers in Danang. They arrived in March, three months before Thuan and I were married.
He was a school teacher. But the war called. Many of his friends became Marines. He did not try to avoid the military. With friends he joined the Marines. He believed in his country, he said. And he believed that the Communists in both the North and in the South would, if victorious, simply replace the old French Imperialism with a newer but even more oppressive form.
I became pregnant during one of his leaves from duty. We moved first to Vung Tau and then to Saigon so we could be with each other more often.
Life was hard. But life had always been hard. When the Americans left it became a little harder. Still my husband believed our country would win the war and that some day he could return to teaching.
But everything changed in the spring of 1975. Everything collapses so suddenly. Thuan remained with his unit rather than return home. And finally, not far from home, at the Newport Bridge defending the gateway to the city, he died with his friends. He left me no note, sent me no final letter. Yet I know he was thinking of me in his last moment of life. And I know in my last moment I will think of him and see us together again. I know.
My husband left me a several hundred piasters and some gold. He said that if things became worse than they already were – and, of course, they did – the piasters would be worthless. When that happened gold would be still accepted by merchants and people who dealt in favors. He was right.
I thought I might live with the new rulers. They announced that we were all Vietnamese and that we had won the war and only the American imperialists were losers. But after saying this they rounded up thousands of people and sent them to camps far away in the north for reeducation. Most were never seen again and those few who straggled home years later were weak and broken and mere shells of the men and women they had once been.
I had been a school teacher. But my school closed during the final crisis in the spring, and when it reopened and I reported for work I was told I could no longer teach because my husband had been a Marine. That made me untrustworthy and an enemy of the people. The new school officials had my records, they said. My name was on their black list.
I looked for work but found little. I became a secretary for one small business and a clerk in another. Each time my past caught up with me, like a lazy shadow. No matter how hard I worked, I was let go after a few days.
My sister advised me to move back to our home village near Phan Rang. I could work as a peasant, she said. I considered it. But I concluded that even there my shadow would find.
I stayed in Saigon and did what I had to do to survive.
War came again in late 1978. Vietnam invaded Cambodia and a few weeks later a Chinese army invaded Vietnam. People in the marketplace said that since the war began there was a new route to escape from Vietnam and start a new life. People went to Thailand and applied for asylum at the American embassy in Bangkok, they said. And the Americans let them in!
But how could I get to Thailand? I asked. Some people, I was told, organized groups to walk in the wake of the Vietnamese army. They crossed the Mekong River, avoided the remnants of the Khmer Rouge, and stayed safely near Vietnamese soldiers and finally sneaked past Thai soldiers along the border. It was not without danger, but it was said to be safer than going on a boat on the South China Sea where so many thousands disappeared.
I thought about Thailand for several days. Finally I decided to try. I joined a group of 25 travelers for the journey across Cambodia – or Khampuchea as it was now called. We were scheduled to depart in the early March, before the start of the rainy season. I was assured that mine was a good group because several members spoke both Khmer and Thai.
I paid the organizer several pieces of gold. She told me to pack some rice and dried fruit and vegetables in plastic bags for my daughter and me.
My daughter Thuy was six years old and did not understand what was happening. Other travelers told me she was too small and she would slow us down and she could not make it and that I should leave her in Saigon. I told them if it became necessary I would carry her all the way on my back.
They warned, "In that case you will be left behind, too. You will die in the jungles of Khampuchea with your child. You will be eaten by tigers. Do you want that?"
I said, "Ok. That is better than staying here and being starved by Communists."
They laughed. "You think so?" They asked. "We shall see."
I was afraid but I was not discouraged. We assembled on a street corner early one morning. An army truck that someone had hired took us from Saigon to the Khampuchea border. We climbed out and walked from there.
We crossed the Mekong River on a small ferry. In Cambodia the road was crowded with refugees moving west. Vietnamese soldiers passed us going in both directions. They were friendly and waved and sometimes spoke to us and gave us food and water and information on the road ahead. We stayed in Phnom Penh for one week resting and gathering supplies for the rest of the journey. The rainy season began. One day when it did not rain we left the city and headed northwest on the main road toward Battambang and Sisophon. Everyone was tired but filled with hope. I heard laughter now and then.
The further west we moved the more dangerous the route became. There were fewer Vietnamese soldiers to protect us and large numbers of Khmer Rouge soldiers. Some wore their old uniforms. But others wore Thai Army uniforms and a few even wore Vietnamese uniforms. All were unfriendly. Some stopped us and offered to protect us for gold. When our gold was gone, or when we said it was gone, they offered to help us for sexual favors from the women. When we refused sometimes they went away. Sometimes they stole women or children and we heard those being carried away crying for help from the surrounding jungle, their pleas growing more and more faint, mixing with the sounds of the birds and insects until they were gone.
One morning we had to cross a large mined area. Earlier travelers had marked the safe path through it with bamboo stakes driven into the ground. Everyone was terrified of the passage. The man leading us stepped carefully and told us to step in the footprints of the person in front of us. I was told I could not carry Thuy on my back. Her weight might cause me to lose my balance and one wrong step and we would both perish. A woman showed my daughter how to wrap her arms around my waist, stand behind me and step exactly where I stepped, almost as if we were one person.
Everyone else was told to walk ten meters apart so that if one of us set off a mine, the others would not be injured. There were rumors that each night some Khmer Rouge came into the area and placed mines in the safe path in order to discourage and kill refugees. After that they sold their services as a guide to lead people through the field. But sometimes they betrayed each other.
We entered the field behind a Khmer Rouge guide. Our own leader walked behind him and then one after another we waited and walked along the path. The pace was slow. No one said a word. When we were almost to a tree line on the far side of the field a man behind us, an elderly man who had been a school teacher at a Catholic School in Saigon before the fall of the South, stepped on a mine. I heard a sound, the man said, Oh, as if he'd stumble on something and lost he balance. There was a big explosion. I saw those in front of me halt and crouch. I did the same.
Mommy, what was that, Thuy cried.
I held her tight and answered, I don't know. Just be still.
Pieces of earth and pieces of the school teacher rained down on us a moment later. Thuy was clinging to my back. She screamed. I was afraid she had been hurt. A piece of the teacher – what appeared to be part of his wrist and arm, fell on Thuy's back and slid to the ground, leaving a long red stain on her dark pajamas. I brushed off what debris I could and embraced her and calmed her and put my open hand over her eyes until she was quiet. I hoisted her onto my back again, saw the man and woman ahead resume walking and followed them.
Days passed and weeks. I lost count. Thuy did not complain.
We passed along the shore of a large lake with a repulsive smell. When we asked what it was, some of the local people told us that thousands of young Khmer girls had been used to build a canal nearby by the Khmer Rouge. One day the Khmer raped and murdered all the girls and buried in mass graves. That is what caused the smell.
We were supposed to continue on to Arayanaprathet and where Thai soldiers would guide us through more mine fields along the Thai border and give us a ride to Bangkok where some of us might find work and others could find transportation to America after saving their money and applying at the American Embassy on Telegraph Road.
But somewhere southeast of Battambang we were stopped by Thai soldiers who were accompanied by UN workers. They ordered us into trucks and took us to a camp called Site 9 far off the main road in a clearing in the jungle. They told us it had been built specifically for Vietnamese refugees like us.
At the site there were several long houses on bamboo pilings that housed all the people. Thuy and I spent the next 18 months in Site 9.
I remember being afraid most of the time, in Site 9, even though we were there, the workers told us, for our own protection. It was a dangerous place. But we learned how to protect ourselves, what to do and what not to do in order to survive.
Every afternoon, I got away from the noise of that long house and sat under a nearby tree with Thuy. I taught her Vietnamese and English while we sewed some of our old clothes or fixed clothes that some of the Khmer soldiers paid us to repair. It was quiet under the tree and I enjoyed the beauty of the silence and I seemed to forget the heat or the bright burning sunshine and the hopelessness of Site 9.
Sometimes I stopped my working and looked at the mysterious beauty of death mountain. I called it death mountain because no plants and no vegetation grew on this ground. It was covered by tall dead skeletal trees. Nobody knew what killed everything on the mountain. It was supposed to be a haunted place. Anyone who walked through it, people said, died.
I watched the shadows and silhouettes of the trees as the sun passed overhead. I leaned my back against a tree and my face felt good when a breeze blew out of the forest and rustled the leaves of the living trees.
After she'd tired of seweing and studying Thuy lay on the ground next to me, her head on my leg, her pillow. She looked so thin and so pale and unhealthy. Sometimes I sang to her, some sweet old Vietnamese song. She fell asleep so easily when I sang.
It was so beautiful that I found I could sometimes forget the discomforts and indignities of the camp and even ignore the heat of the sunshine.
Before I went to the edge of the jungle with Thuy, however, I blackened our faces with dirt. I'd already used scissors to cut my hair short as a man and to make me as ugly as possible. Only in that way could the camp invaders and rulers be kept away from us. But it did not always work.
While she was sleeping I was watching what went on in that terrible building put up to house the refugees. I call it terrible because of the things that happened in it. It was a long house made of bamboo and above the ground on thick bamboo piles. But so many terrible things happened inside. There was just one big room inside for about 200 people in each of the many houses lined up side by side in the clearing. The people slept, argued, fought and made love there. It was built of bamboo and special jungle grass. There was no door and no windows, no privacy and it was so cold at night. The Red Cross just gave each person in the house a small thin blanket, much like a baby blanket. It could not cover my entire body. So I held Thuy in my arms at night and we kept each other warm.
All 200 refugees in this house slept in two very thin mats on the floor. Each family was separated from others by a mosquito net suspended from the ceiling. When children cried at night or someone snored or some couple made sounds of love, it awakened others and they yelled and complained and this was followed by arguments and fights in the dark.
I had trouble sleeping. I lay on my back and watched the moonlight through the long opening in the wall that served as a window. The moon looked so beautiful at night. Maybe because I had nothing to enjoy there but my daughter and nature, the moon, and the hope I harbored of someday finding a better life if we could cross the border into Thailand.
Every month when there was a full moon I stayed awake late and watched it. Sometimes I sat up to see better out the window. I remembered all the Vietnamese songs about moonlight and lovers. I felt at least I was lucky to be alive with Thuy. And I still at least had the moonlight to enjoy.
Sometimes in that late night reverie, I remembered things from the past in my family. I remembered my husband. I remembered my family in Danang, now all scattered. I was a refugee. I had no country. No identity other than that. I had no papers with me. My life and my fate it belonged to others. The only things that were mine were Thuy and a few dreams.
I constantly feared for our safety. Someone could kill us at any time without reason. I had seen this happen to others. I had seen Khmer and Thai soldier kill other women and men and carry their bodies off into the jungle to leave them to be eaten by animals. Then they reported to the Red Cross, if someone asked, that the missing person was seen trying to escape to Thailand
I felt so bad when I thought about this. I sometimes almost regretted leaving Saigon. What a life had been given to me, I said to myself. And why? What had I done in my past life to deserve this. What had all of these people around me, the ones crossing Kamphuchea, what had they done? Why?
But there was no answer for me. Not in this world. I would have to wait and some day ask God.
I leaned over and kissed my daughter. She opened her eyes and smiled up at me. Her smile was the smile of an angel and it pushed away the darkness.
"Mommy, I am hungry," she whispered. "Is it time for dinner?"
"No," I told her. "Not yet."
When, Mommy?"
"Soon, baby."
Again I felt sorrow cover me. "I am sorry, Thuy. But tonight we have nothing to eat but rice and salt." My voice broke as I whispered to her.
"It's ok mommy, she said. I like that. Don't worry."
So little and so wise. How did this happen? They gave us one small can of fish for a whole week. That was out protein.
I looked at my frail little girl, held her face in my hands, combed my fingers through her hair. She was 8 years old. And she had walked all the way across Cambodia with me. The things that had happened! She had suffered all that I had suffered and she had suffered it in silence. I was the one who cried. She was the one who comforted me. She seemed always to be trying to make me happy. Now in this border camp she had to suffer hunger too. I loved her so much. She never complained about anything here.
Suddenly I remembered an old debt. "Baby, I said to her, I just remembered the Kampuchea lady I loaned some food to on our walk. She is here. She owes me food, right? Two cans of fish?
"Yes Mommy. I remember her. I remember when you gave her the fish."
"Ok, I will go to her this afternoon, I'll go to her house and ask her for the food."
Thuy's eyes teared up suddenly and she shook her head. No Mommy, please don't do that?
But you are hungry.
But Mommy she is a Kampuchea lady. It is dangerous. I am afraid. I am not hungry, really. Rice and salt is enough for me tonight.
I tried to hold back my tears when I saw the fear on her face. "Oh, God," I said to the air. "Are you here? Do you see this?"
Look at you Thuy, I said. You're so thin and pale. You need more food. You need protein. I think that woman will remember my kindness and give us fish. There will be no problem.
No Mommy, it's better to stay home. Really Please.
She grabbed my hand as if to keep me seated and held on tight. Her voice was strong. I am not hungry for fish, Mommy. Please.
She smiled at me, in an effort to convince me that she was telling the truth. I'll remember her smile, forever. It was the smile of a child when they pretend that they don't need something that they do need. I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her.
Thuy, you mean so much to me. You are so brave, I told her. You make me so happy and so proud.
I almost forgot for a moment that we were in a death zone. That we were in this terrible lawless camp. Life is always beautiful I thought when you have someone to love and someone who needs you. I pulled her onto my lap. I kissed the top of her head and held her against me tightly.
Suddenly I felt her stiffen. She yelled, "Mommy, look! And she pointed to the distance.
What is it?
Thai men, she said. Thai soldiers.
I looked in the direction she was pointing and I saw them. Not only were the coming into the camp but some of them had seen me, on the edge of the jungle, away from others, holding my daughter. They were walking toward us quickly. They were all in Thai uniforms and they carried guns. There were seven of them.
I felt sick. It was too late. They were between us and the building. I stood. Thuy stood beside me her arms around my waist and her face buried in my stomach.
I should have noticed that the camp was silent. Other children and women had apparently seen the Thai soldiers approach and they had run into the houses and crawled onto their mats and now they watched out the long windows. Usually there had been cries of warning, but this morning there was not. When the warning came the women ran into the jungles to hide. But now with Thuy there was no way for me to run.
My heart pounded inside my chest. My throat constricted so I could not even cry or scream. I had to try to breathe.
I had made myself as ugly as possible so I hoped that the soldiers would pass me by.
They came to our camp often, usually waiting until the Red Cross and other refugee workers from the UN went home. Sometimes they accompanied the UN workers. Sometimes they waited till the workers left and came into the camp to do what they wished.
For that reason, I had cut my hair as short as possible with a knife. I also cut Thuy's. And I kept my face covered with dust or dirt in order to look as ugly as possible. That was our only protection.
Now it was too late. By the time Thuy saw them they were walking directly towards us.
I froze and stared down at Thuy, holding her hand tightly, attempting through my grip to give her confidence. I felt her trembling. She'd seen many times what these men did.
I stood and Thy stood beside me, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her face buried in my stomach so she would not have to look at the soldiers and they could not see her face.
In the past there had always been a warning, someone saw them and shouted and women ran into the jungle to hide from them. But this time there was no warning. By the time I saw them I knew it was too late. If I tried to run now, with Thuy, they might shoot me. I'd seen them shoot down many people over the months I'd been in the camp.
As I stood waiting to learn my fate, my heart was pounding rapidly in my chest. I tried to slow my breathing, to contain my panic, for the sake of thuy.
I was wearing a filthy worn tunic that I'd taken from a dead soldier in the jungle several months earlier. I wore it and kept it dirty and each morning darkened my face with dirt and ran my fingers through my hair to mess it up. I needed to be as repulsive looking as possible to protect myself.
I dare not look up into the men's eyes, but started at the ground a few feet in front of me until I saw their boots. A tall slim soldier who seemed to be the leader of the group, in his mid 20s, was staring at me without speaking. No word passed between us and the soldiers too were silent.
Suddenly the lead man laughed and I looked at up him.
"How are you?" he asked, with a tone both official and mocking.
He spoke English. I learned a little English in Saigon. This was so strange.
"I am fine. How are you? I replied
He smiled broadly.
"Good, good," he said, studying me carefully. You speak English well. Where did you learn?
In Saigon.
From your husband?
In the school.
He motioned for me to sit and I sat down on the ground, Thuy still clinging to me.
We sat there, staring at each other for several minutes. He motioned with his hands to the other soldiers and dismissed them. They walked toward the barracks building and went inside. I heard them shouting questions and commands to the people inside. Still the soldier sitting in front of me said nothing and did not look away.
You are a beautiful woman, he said.
I did not respond. I was terrified.
Why is your face filthy? Why do you wear that jacket?
Again I did not reply.
I want you to remove your tunic and give it to me. I want to see how beautiful you are without it.
I didn't move.
Do you hear me? Take off the tunic. It belongs to a soldier.
I summoned up my courage. I am sorry. I cannot.
Why not?
I am afraid of you. Thuy began to whimper softly against my body.
I want to keep the jacket. I want to wear it.
He said nothing and I continued. I am not pretty. You are wrong. I am an old woman. This girl is my grand daughter.
He reached out, and and touched my face then withdrew his hand
You are not this girl's grandmother he said. You lie.
I am…
Before I could finish another lie he interrupted. "Don't be afraid. I have changed my mind.
You changed what? Why?
We came here to find women. I came here with my men to find women.
I know, I said, in a quavering voice.
We are men. We need women. It's nature.
He squatted a few feet in front of me. He put down his gun.
This is your child? I tightened my arm around Thuy.
He is afraid?
Take off the jacket.
I need it to keep me warm.
It is already warm
I need it.
He watched my face as I spoke to him.
You took the jacket from a soldier?
I found the jacket in the jungle
After a long long pause he asked, Why are you afraid of me?
Because of what I've seen.
I am not going to hurt you. Do you believe me?
I don't know. I was unsure how to answer him. I'd seen soldiers approach women and use charm before flying into a rage and dragging them away into the jungle.
Some returned, later. Some didn't.
Maybe I will just be a friend for you.
Because you surprise me. Because you speak English.
He extended his hand but I did not respond. He sat with his hand out looking at me, waiting, perhaps challenging, but I could not touch him.
Suddenly there were loud blood curdling screams and a commotion from one of the long houses. I knew one of the soldiers had found a girl hiding beneath blankets or under her bed.
More shouting and screaming and shouting and the sound of beds being overturned.
But the soldier never turned away, and he kept his eyes fixed on me.
Finally I returned his stare.
Do you know what that is all about, he asked?
Tell me what they are doing?
I released Thuy and covered my ears with my hands and began to cry.
Make them stop it, please, I said through my tears.
You want me to stop the soldier from doing what he is doing?
Yes, please.
He stood and walked quickly to the building, entered. There was shouting and suddenly it was quiet. He returned.
He returned and squatted again. Is that what you wanted, he asked.
Yes. Thank you, I said.
You don't have to say that, he said.
What is your name, he asked.
I said nothing. He looked at Thuy, What is your name?
She too was too terrified to answer.
He looked away for a moment, in frustration. When he fixed us with his gaze again, he stood. My name is Chai Naroory [it sounded this way to me, but I do not speak Thai so I am unsure how to spell his name correctly]. He said. Remember that, please. If someone tries to hurt you, any of the soldiers, call out my name.
Say it please. I looked at the ground and said, Chai Naroory.
I will see you again. I promise, he said. After that he stood and walked away, leaving us there. The other soldiers, finished with their business soon emerged from the houses and the jungle and left together down the road they had come on.
But the next evening, after the UN workers left, the Thai soldiers returned, led by Chi Naroory.
I was eating a bowl of rice with Thuy outside out building. He approached and said hello. This time I said hello.
You remember my name?
Yes, Chai Naoroory.
Good, he said.
He looked at our food. "My God, this is what they give you?" he asked.
'yes, I said.
This is all they give you?
I tried to smile. It's ok.
There is no problem. We are accustomed to it now. We only need to put something in our stomach every day, I said.
My dog has better food than this he said. He was accompanied by a big dog that sayed near him while he spoke. It was non threatening. Indeed, he asked Thuy if she'd like to pet the animal and after assuring her it was safe, she reached out and ran her fingers through the animals hair.
After that he returned every day. Thuy and I ate together in the same spot and he always came to us. Sometimes he came alone, accompanied just by his dog. He always carried his gun. The other people in the camp watched us from a distance. None approached to talk. He began bringing us food.
We talked, always in English. He asked about my husband, about life in Saigon, about the war and the Americans. He wanted to know where I'd learned English.
He told me also about his life, about his education in high school and his stay in a monastery for one year. After that he'd joined the army. He said he had a girl friend in Phuket. He missed her very much, he said. He was in love with her.
This made med feel safer, I thought, when he spoke of romantic love and of his lover far away. I sensed in him none of the brutality I'd witnessed in the other soldiers.
He said he enjoyed practicing his English with me. He brought us sandals one evening.
I don't understand why you are so kind to us, I said. Why is it?
He thought about my question, turned it over in his mind. It's hard to say, he said. You know, sometimes, in your life, you find someone, you see someone, and it feels in your heart. And you wan to do something for them. You want to help that person. I felt that way, my heart was moved, when I saw you here with your little girl.
I did not come to make a friend. You know that. But I saw you and my heart changed. I felt, perhaps, ashamed of what I was planning to do when I saw how pathetic and frightened you looked.
This was your first time to come to the camp.
Yes. But I found I could not do it.
I am glad.
Some of the others hate me now.
We don't hate you. The people here don't hate you.
He liked to talk about his girl friend and how he missed her. I talked to him about Thuan and how I missed him. He became at ease with me, removed his sun glasses so I could see his eyes, sat close and talked in a low voice.
I hope you can leave here soon, he told me, after hearing some of our stories about crossing Cambodia. This is a terrible place. It is neither freedom nor death, but it is halfway between, one foot in each. No place else in the world is like this, he said. I'll listen for news about getting out of here and do what I can to help you. But I am just a soldier, there is not much I can do, I should say.
I thanked him.
He came every week on Saturday. Then one Saturday he did not come. I went to my customary place outside the house and near the edge of the jungle, sat down with Thuy and waited but he did not come. As the day ended and it became dark I felt a strange feeling inside. I missed him very much. I waited and waited. Thuy fell asleep in my arms and the lights were put out in the long houses. Still I waited. I waited outside on the steps of the house for him. I lay down in a hammock and looked up at the sky and wondered where he was. I watched the stars come out. Still there were no visitors. When the sky was full of stars I lay quietly in the hammock and held Thuy tightly and cried. He was my only contact with the outside world, with the world beyond the border. And he was decent and kind and now he, too, was gone. I cared for him so much. The need to love that I thought was dead had crept out slowly and began as his kindness. And now it too had been stifled and I cried for myself and for him.
During the next week I tried to forget about him. I moved about more quietly, went through the motions of living. But again and again I found myself remembering him, his kind words, the sweets he brought to us, his smile when we smiled at him. His words about his love for his girl friend in faraway Phuket. She was so lucky. I was almost jealous of her. I found myself thinking that I must find a way to contain my feelings, my heart, in the future. This was too painful, growing attached to someone.
The next Saturday I stayed in the long house with Thuy. I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling as Thuy played on the rough floor. I thought of the boy. Wondered what had happened to him.
I heard footsteps outside but did not get up. Someone entered the house. The familier voice said, Hello.
I opened my eyes and saw him again. He'd picked up Thuy and given her something sweet. She held the roll in her hand
I wanted to leap from the bed and embrace him. But I controlled myself. I stood up. He approached and held extended his hand. How are you, he said.
We are fine, and how are you?
I am sorry I was not here for two weeks, he said. I was given leave. I visited my girl friend in Phuket. There was no way to tell you.
I am happy for you.
Thank you.
I wanted to cry, I was so happy to see him. I held back my tears and listened to the music of his words.
Shall we go outside and talk, he said. I brought you some food. He handed me a plastic bag with rice and some vegetables in it and several small cakes and a copy of the Bangkok newspaper to read.
In English, the Post.
My girl friend says hello to you too. I told her about you. She hopes something good will happen soon and that you will leave.
Yes, tell her thank you also, I said.
He brought his dog with him and the animal was sitting beside him, licking Thuy's feet as she petted his nose.
He is happy to see you too, the boy said.
We sat outside and talked, sat on small wooden stools. The dog lay down between us. After a while he said, Is something wrong. You seem different tonight. Did something happen?
No, I said. I just missed you. I am sorry, We just missed you. And your dog.
There were so many things going through my mind at that moment, confusing emotions and thoughts. I could express none of them and so merely said, Hello, it is a surprise to see you again. We missed you. Thuy missed your dog.
My dog?
Yes and she missed you too. And so did I.
He told us about his visit to his sweetheart in Phuket. I told her about you and Thuy. He took out a picture of the two of them standing on a beach with the blue sea behind them. He was not in his uniform in the picture. The girl was wearing white pants and a long sleeved white blouse in the sunshine.
I am happy for you, I said. I am happy you could get away from this place. He'd brought us food, again. And this time new rubber sandals.
Thuy began playing with the dog agan.
He sensed my melancholy in my silence. What is wrong with you, he asked. Has something happened.
No, nothing has happened, I told him. That is the problem. Nothing ever happens here. Every day it is the same. And then the soldiers come again.
I worry about my future. About Thuy's future. What does the world hold for us. They ask me here, if I go to America, what job can I do. I don't know. I have no idea what I'll do and they tell me I must come up with something.
It's big thinking, isn it? He asked. I think you'll have a good life over there, though. Many Vietnamese come through here. They leave from the other camps and they go to America. I've seen them in camps in Bangkok. Some day you'll be one of them.
Don't give up hope, he said Please. I brought you a special present this time from Phuket.
He handed me a plastic bag and inside was a blue cloth purse designed in the Hmong design, from the Chiang Mai area, he said. Blue was my favorite color. It was a ball of blue yarn. I love it, I said. I can make a very beautiful sweater.
You can spend a lot of time doing it here, he said. Now perhaps you won't be so bored. I saw you knitting one time and remembered.
I didn't know you were even looking I said. I didn't know you even noticed what we do when you are not here.
He had such a sweet smile when he saw my delight in the gift. His kindness and his caring moved me so deeply in this place where there was very little of either.
Thank you. I'll remember thisI said to him. You make me happy. You are a very special boy. You make me remember love, what it felt like to be in love.
Then I am happy he said, and laughed. His teeth, I noticed, we so perfect and so white, his laugh so loud and genuine, and his greeting, as he clasped his hands before him and bowed, so unusual in this world we lived in.
There was a summons form an officer and her rose and bid me goodbye, held my hand in both of his and bowed again and left. The group of soldiers hurried away.
Moment later Thuy reappeared with the dog and I realized the boy had forgotten his dog. Now it was too late. I'd hae to care for him till the boy returned.
I told Thuy that the next time he came not to go out of my sight with the dog. He might be angry when he discovered he'd left the animal behind. But the dog was happy around Thuy, it followed her everywhere and snuggled up beside her when she sat down or lay down in her hammock.
I thought we could let the dog sleep beneath our hammocks at night until the Thai soldiers returned.
But the Kampuchea soldiers who came into the camp after the Thais left, and who treated the women just the same, saw it differently. They took over supervision of the camp.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Soon after the Thai soldiers left the camp, the Kampuchea soldiers, who were camped nearby came into the camp. They were afraid of the Thais and the Vietnamese, but they ruled this camp and the people in it and they had many friends among the Cambodians who were refugees also trying to get into Thailand and from there the West.
A group of them came to the camp. They learned from others that Thuy and I had the Thai soldier's dog. They came to our long house. They came to me. Give us the dog, the leader of the soldiers said, a mean little man with a scar down the right side of his face and several missing teeth. He rolled up the long sleeves on his military shirt, wore shorts and rubber sandals and carried an AK 47 on a strap.
He pointed the gun at me. Give me the dog, he said.
I think I should keep the dog for the Thai soldiers, he said. If I do not they may be angry and there will be trouble.
Shut up and give me the dog, he responded, without sympathy, as if he'd not heard me. Where is it.
Will you keep him for the Thais?
Shut up, he said and shook the gun at me. We are going to kill that dog and if you do not give him to me right now, I will kill you and your daughter too.
I had seen this man kill several other refugees and drag their bodies by the heels into the jungle to leave them. I'd heard he did other horrible things, tortured refugees, took them to his camp. Terrible things.
Thuy appeared outside with the dog. The soldier turned when someone called to him and he hurried outside. He pushed Thuy aside and shot the dog two times.
I ran outside and picked up Thuy. The dog was flat on the ground, blood coming from his mouth, his eyes still open.
I covered Thuy's eyes with my hand. "Oh, God…I whispered. Are you still up there. Are you far away? Please save us."
The Kamphuchea soldier kicked the dog and then turned to me. He put his gun against my head and hissed at me, You are lucky your little girl brought this dog to me, if not, this would be you."
I stood still and dare not move except for my uncontrollable shaking and the whimpers, soft whimpers of Thuy.
A Kampuchea soldier grabbed the hind leg of the dog and began dragging it away. "And one more thing, " the soldier said to me. If the Thai soldiers ask you what happened to their dog, and if you tell them, I will find you and kill you. And I'll cut your daughter's throat, too. OK? Remember this?
I will remember this I said.
I knew from the talk of the other soldiers that they would cook and eat the dog. It was a big animal and a welcome feast for them. They left dragging the dog behind them, leaving a thin trail of blood across the ground.
Two days later the Thai soldiers returned and Chin Naroory was with them. I was sitting outside with Thuy and he came to us.
I left my dog here last time, he said. "Have you seen him?"
I looked into his eyes. I hesitated. "No, I didn't see him, I said.
Yes we did, Mommy, Thuy said and I covered her mouth with my hand.
China roong squatted in front of us. What is the truth, he said. Where is my dog?
We don't know anything, really, I said.
Why are you afraid, he asked. He looked angry. Where is my dog?
After a moment he said, I know why you are afraid. The Kampuchea soldiers, right?
I nodded.
He stood and went to the long house where the Khmer soldiers lived.
He wanted his dog he said, he asked what they had done with it. They just stared at him and didn't respond. He left a short time later with the other soldiers, not saying a word to us.
Of course as soon as he was gone, the Khmer soldier returned, talked to the other Khmer and came to me.
I thought I told you not to tell the Thais we took his dog.
I didn't.
Then why did he ask the men in that house, he said, and motioned toward the Khmer house with his gun.
I don't know. I told him nothing.
I should kill you right here, he said. Right now. But I should beat you to death. You are not worth a bullet, you Vietnamese scum.
But as he spoke, even as I saw him lift his gun, there was a voice form behind us. The voice of Chai naroory. Stop it, he yelled. Stop it.
The Khmer soldier turned and saw the thai approaching.
Drop your gun damn you, the Thai ordered, without lifting his own weapon. Don't point your god damned gun at a woman. Drop it.
A smile crossed the Khmer soldier's face. He lifted the barrel of his gun and pointed it at Chai Naroory.
This is my gun, he said. I can do anything with it that I want. This is my land, not yours. Remember that, Thai, this is my land.
Chai Naroory strode forward bravely, brashly and stood before the Khmer soldier and Thuy and me. He grabbed the barrel of the gun and started to push it away from me.
The Khmer stepped back and Chai Naroory kept his grip on the barrel. Suddenly the Khmer soldier pulled it loose, touched it to Chai Naroory's heart and pulled the trigger. There was one loud explosion. Chai Naroory stumbled back past us and feel flat on the ground, blood soaking the front of his uniform.
The Khmer soldier turned and ran into the jungle. Other Thai soldiers, hearing the shot came running, they yelled at the Khmer soldier as he ran away. There were several shots and all the men disappeared into the growth. Two Thai soldiers stopped and knelt beside their comrade.
I slumped beside him and looked into his beautiful young face. His eyes were half closed. He was already dead. He was not breathing.
I began to sob and Thuy knelt beside me also crying.
My tears fell on his face. "He just wanted to be a decent person," I said in English, but the other Thai soldiers, I believe could not understand me.
He just wanted to be decent. He was in love. His girl friend is in Phuket. He brought us food.
I whispered in his ear, I will never forget you. I will never forget your kindness. You are always in my prayers. Then I stretched out my legs and rested his head on my legs. I ran my fingers through his hair. Thuy put her arms around me. I saw his lovely eyes. I looked up at the sky, so beautiful, so blue.
I sat weeping over his body until the other Thai soldiers came and picked him up and carried him away with them. That evening I took out the sweater I had been knitting for him. I carried into into the jungle and dug a hole with my hands and buried it along with what remained of the yarn and the knitting needles. I returned to my hammock and held Thuy in my arms and lay awake all night staring up through the open ceiling and the mosquito netting at the stars. I said a short prayer for Chai Naroory and one for Thuy and one for me and one for my husband and then I listened to the sounds of the jungle.
Three months later Pham Thao was notified that there was a sponsor for her in the United States, a church congregation in Wisconsin. She was transported to Bangkok where she was kept in another refugee center and after three more weeks flew to the US. She attended a vocational school and became a nurse. Thuy graduated from college and medical school and today is a pediatrician in Kaiser Permanente Hospital in ***** *****, California. She is married and has three of her own children. Her mother lives nearby.
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Meghan Engelman Young
Divorce Child Custody Spousal Support Property Settlement Protection From Abuse Prenuptial, Cohabitation Agreements
Meghan Engelman Young
A native of the Williamsport area, Meghan Engelman Young graduated from Lycoming College in 2007 where she studied archeology, philosophy and French. While attending Penn State Law, Meghan was the Editor in Chief of The Yearbook on Arbitration and Mediation Law Review. She also was a student attorney at the Penn State Family Law Clinic where her experiences allowed her to develop her interest in Family Law.
Meghan is also a member of the Lycoming Law Association and participates in the Young Law Division.
Meghan speaks French and loves to travel. She studies history and still participates in archaeological digs whenever possible.

subset: commoncrawl


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11 Yards Robert Allen Jute Chenille Italian Upholstery Fabric in Zinc. This high end woven upholstery weight fabric is suited for uses requiring a more durable designer fabric. Uses include any upholstery project, sofas, chairs, dining chairs, pillows, certain types of window treatments, handbags and craft projects.
- Fiber Content: 53% Viscose 47% Jute
- Width: 53" (inches)
- Note: the price is for the entire yardage in this listing
Fabric Brand / Designer:
Robert Allen Fabric


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Written by Victor Hwang
Why should we give a damn about ecosystems? This is a question worth asking. For entrepreneurs and innovators slogging away building real companies and inventions, the whole thing seems so abstract, so remote.
Below is an essay I have written for our Global Innovation Summit, which happens next week in Silicon Valley (www.innosummit.com) and which I call our "Davos for doers." We have already confirmed over 300 people from 40 countries. This essay is my attempt to step back, and look at where we are in the broad historical arc of economics, culture, and politics. It's more than just about innovation…
Why Rainforests? Why now?
The importance of innovation ecosystems at this moment in history
By Victor W. Hwang
On the surface, there is solid reason for rejoicing.
Human civilization, when viewed across the span of history, is thriving. The last decade has seen fewer deaths from war than any decade in the past century.[1] Empirical evidence suggests that, when viewing the world in aggregate, standards of living have continued to increase steadily since the Industrial Revolution. Since 1820, per capita income worldwide has risen more than eightfold.[2] And the macro-trend lines for human welfare are still pointing up.
These mega-sweeps of history are so complex that there are inevitably countless causes at work. We know that science, technology, and innovation must be a major cause, as our civilization makes useful products and services ever more efficiently. The robustness of democratic freedom is also part of the answer. Dictatorships continue to fall, and common people have their voices heard more and more in how they want to be governed, which means much less violence by the state against the individual. Free market capitalism is another part of the answer. Unleashing people and enterprises to grow and compete freely has been the equivalent of unshackling billions of stallions to burst from the racing gates.
Yet, at the same time, we are compelled to stand athwart human history, and declare that something important, something big, is still missing.
We see manifestations of the Big Missing, but it's hard to see the thing itself. The financial crisis of 2008 was such a manifestation.[3] How could so many so-called sophisticated investors, who had every right to say "NO" to buying mispriced financial assets, still end up buying them, destroying each other, and nearly bringing down the world's financial sector with them?
The increasing inequality between the world's richest and poorest is another such manifestation. The richest 10% of the world makes as much income as the bottom 90%, and the gap appears to be getting worse.[4]
The protests of young people that circled the world last year—from the Middle East, to Europe, and America—said many different things on the surface, but they all seemed to point to some common, invisible thing underneath. There is a deep discontent in the world, one that people have trouble putting into words.
Financial instability. Social inequality. Political disruption. We see the obvious footprints of this mischievous beast, but the animal itself is elusive. This Big Missing thing must be invisible, or at least very, very hard to see.
We gather here today in Silicon Valley to attempt to see this thing, to grapple with it, and to tame it. What is clear today is that the cold, mechanistic, rationalistic models that economists have used to describe our world—and to prescribe cures for its ills—are not sufficient. Many of us already feel this intuitively, but it is now time to pronounce it out loud. Things like culture matter. Community matters. Trust matters. Dreams matter.
The reason the fuzzy things matter is because they help us overcome the barriers that naturally divide us. And only when those barriers are lowered do the raw materials of innovation and economic growth—ideas, talent, capital—flow more efficiently throughout the entire system, like nutrients in an interconnected root network.
Human society is a biological system, too. Highly productive human networks resemble natural rainforests in this way—it is not just the presence of basic ingredients; it is the recipe of serendipitous tinkering that causes the bounty. But barriers between people are ubiquitous and inhibit the efficient flow of economic resources to allow this tinkering.
In Silicon Valley, we see a living, breathing system that emerges when a trust-based, collaborative community reduces countless transaction costs in the innovation process. These costs are what would otherwise cause entrepreneurs and innovators to die deaths of a million cuts, as they do in most other places. Human networks like this have thrived at numerous periods in history—the Renaissance, the Dutch Golden Age, the Song Dynasty, for starters—and in each era we can see the same human forces at work. Innovation needs not just freedom from the formal constraints of legalized oppression, but also needs freedom from the informal social constraints caused by distrust, fear, miscommunication, and distance.
Fortunately, the social networks of the future no longer need to be imprisoned by geography, as we can build overlapping social networks that traverse the boundaries of the past. There is no inherent reason why we cannot grow Rainforests everywhere. If humans can define the detailed surfaces of Mars and pinpoint the subatomic particles that create mass in the universe, surely we can understand and shape the process by which humans interact with one another productively.
So together, let us begin a transformation in economic development. Like the post-modernists who transcended the traditional, rigid boxes in the fields of visual art, music, dance, and architecture, it is time for us to define a "post-modern economics" that move beyond the old, harsh dichotomies of thinking that have gotten us where we are—rational versus irrational, control versus chaos, predictable versus unpredictable. What Silicon Valley teaches us is that these distinctions can be profoundly misleading. There is often deep value lurking in what seems at first frivolous, messy, and surprising.
Innovation only thrives in ecosystems that cherish and nurture what makes us uniquely human, quirks and all. This we now know. How to foster these ecosystems, however, is the harder part. It will require the collective labors and hopes of many to answer this great challenge of our time. It takes a Rainforest.
[This essay is extracted from the official program of the Global Innovation Summit]
1] Goldstein, Joshua. "Think Again: War". Foreign Policy (September/October 2011). http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2011/08/15/think_again_war?page=full
[2] Maddison, Angus. The World Economy: A Millennial Perspective. Paris: OECD, 2001.
[3] Posner, Richard. "Capitalism in Crisis," Wall Street Journal, May 7, 2009.[4] Milanovic, Branko. Worlds Apart: Measuring International and Global Inequality. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005.
About Victor Hwang
I wrote a book on innovation ecosystems – The Rainforest: The Secret to Building the Next Silicon Valley – which is actually about the future of human civilization. I'm organizing a major conference on building innovation ecosystems. To borrow a phrase from designer Charles Eames, eventually everything connects: technology, biology, psychology, natural systems, art, music, design, love…


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Wall Display
With an iDashboards Wall Display, you can share real-time data and key metrics with your entire organization. They are the perfect tool to engage your office with data, spread transparency, and promote a data-driven mentality. Reach colleagues with up-to-date metrics whether they're in the office, on the shop floor, or in the hospital break room. Pick and choose the dashboards you want to display on any monitor or Smart TV in your organization, and manage multiple slideshows remotely. Best of all, Wall Displays sync directly to your database and update automatically, so you're always sharing the most relevant data. You can also drill down, pivot, and interact with charts with a mouse or touchscreen. Wall Displays brings a new level of transparency to your data and encourage accountability throughout your organization.
Public Access License
Want to get more eyes on your dashboards? With a Public Access License, you can share engaging and informative dashboards with the world. Publish your dashboards to a website or your company's intranet, and viewers can interact with the charts online, while your back-end data stays secure. The Public Access License also allows for sharing of individual charts and graphs that can embed into HTML to create a dynamic and informative experience on any website. When you share metrics with your constituents, clients, and customers, you don't have to say you're committed to transparency: you're showing it.
Satellite Data Hubs
If your organization has multiple locations, it can be a challenge to get everyone access to the same information. Disparate data can cause substantive issues when you're trying to make decisions. With iDashboards, you can install Satellite Data Hubs at each of your sites and sync them together over the Internet. That way, you can easily share and blend data across offices and create a single source of truth that keeps the whole organization on the same page. Each office will be connected to the same prepared data, whether they're located in London, Lisbon, or L.A.


text: Big Data & Analytics Infrastructure Software HP expands BI consulting services Howard Solomon @HowardITWC Published: August 28th, 2014As organizations accumulate tens of gigabytes and more of data, they may feel they don't have the resources to craft a strategy for leveraging it. They may even have some business intelligence capabilities, but aren't getting enough from it.Hewlett-Packard's consulting division want to give them a hand with its new Business Intelligence Modernization Services, which it says will help enterprises take best advantage of big data to meet business needs.Martin Risau, senior vice president for analytics and data management at HP Enterprise Services, said in an interview it's a "comprehensive suite of services, architectures and technologies to help customers address new analytics requirements and become data-driven and agile."Not only will HP advise customers on setting up their infrastructure on-prem, he said, it can also offer the company's cloud-based services as well, such as Hadoop in an HP Helion private cloud or analytics as a service. Related Articles Eight tips for resilient big data apps No need to re-invent the wheel for big data, says IT director No minimum amount of data is needed to retain HP for advice. However, the service is aimed at medium-sized organizations and larger who need what Risau called "performance management " – for example bringing reports faster to a broader number of staff so they can make fact-based decisions in a more agile way."With the newer tools and services we have available you can make (business intelligence) better," he said, with big data or "normal data."While HP (NYSE: HPQ) offered BI consulting services until now, the expanded Modernization Service offers more recent HP cloud services.Risau said the Modernization Service includes discovering so-called data lakes in enterprise and offering tools allowing them to be shared; analytics solutions; and offering hybrid on-prem, public or private cloud data management.For Canadian organizations concerned about data sovereignty but want a cloud-based solution, HP can offer a private cloud solution hosted in an HP data centre here, he said. Big Data & Analytics, Infrastructure, Software Big Data, consulting, HP


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The Halle is perfect for your next rental event!
Our auditorium has hosted:
- Weddings
- Business Meetings
- Church Services
- Company Retreats
- Dances
- Concerts & Performances
- Graduation & Retirement Celebrations
- Birthday Parties
- Home Owners Association meetings
Contact The Halle with questions and availability of the spaces.
Note: We do not put rentals or rental availability on the public Halle calendar. Please contact us to check out our availability.
Ambient lighting and a professional sound system set the tone for the festivities and make this the perfect place for you to celebrate almost any special event.
Corporate & Non-Profit Groups
Halle is the perfect place to rent if you are holding either a corporate event such as training session or a non-profit event.
Performances & Productions
We have a spacious stage with a full light and sound board to accommodate even the most detailed of performances and our Estonia grand piano is available for rental for your piano, voice, or dance recitals as well.
Weddings and receptions at The Halle are customized to fit your needs. With no restrictions with catering and other vendor choices, your event fits your budget.
Rental Items & Details


text: Here's what's behind the menu item http://schools.sugarlabs.org/mod/forum/view.php?id=295 On Fri, Mar 27, 2009 at 12:45 AM, Luke Faraone <luke at faraone.cc> wrote: > On Thu, Mar 26, 2009 at 7:16 PM, Carol Farlow Lerche <cafl at msbit.com> wrote: >> >> Also, are the forums used? It would seem that if we really do our work >> via the lists, we should make the list archives prominent on the site and >> forget forums. > > Wha? We have forums? As far as I know, the only remotely forum-esque thing > we have is Nabble forum-like setup which is synced with the ML. > > > -- > Luke Faraone > http://luke.faraone.cc >


text: 9U Brooklyn Birds~ The 2015-2016 Birds are holding tryouts for the upcoming year long travel baseball season. We will participate in the 9U MABA division as well as tournaments. Players must attend two tryouts unless prior arrangements are made. If you plan to tryout, please email email@example.com to reserve your spot - Tryouts will be held on Field 3 at the BPYAA Home Field - 310 10th Ave - Brooklyn, MD 21225 Child can not turn 10 years old before 5/1/16 Tryouts: July 18th – 10am July 22nd- 6pm July 25th- 10am July 29th- 6pm


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We have finally gotten around to creating our podcasts, our first one is now available on the link below - check it out
This is the official Australian Yowie Project page - Search for Australia's Hairy Man. This is the publishing platform of our work over the last decade.. We do not comment on the research of others. We are a network of independent researchers who collaborate their findings. this is purely an official vehicle for us to publish our work that we undertake. please contact us at firstname.lastname@example.com for more information
Thursday, 19 November 2015
Saturday, 7 November 2015
What are they?
In the years I have been conducting research into this 'creature' 'legend' or 'myth', the remaining question is what are they, if they are in fact real? And that is the $64000 question isn't it?
First of all let me say that this was the last time I will say 'if' as I know they are real, I have encountered them, people I research with have encountered them and we have experienced them many times together whilst in the field. We have collected some of their evidence that we are consistently working through with our partners – so for me its not a 'if' they are real. However for many of you reading this it is an 'if' and your searching for information on your own journey to answer your own questions about the existence of this being
First of all let me say that this was the last time I will say 'if' as I know they are real, I have encountered them, people I research with have encountered them and we have experienced them many times together whilst in the field. We have collected some of their evidence that we are consistently working through with our partners – so for me its not a 'if' they are real. However for many of you reading this it is an 'if' and your searching for information on your own journey to answer your own questions about the existence of this being
I can only put foreword what we know and what our research has led us to understand about these creatures. We can only comment on our theories based upon available information at hand or concepts and ideas as to their origins that 'seem' to support what limited facts we have. Some can be proven some cannot. Not until we have a body or a live specimen can we be sure of their 'origins' or 'genetic composition' and after a battery of tests to confirm or dispel what we currently think we know. I am not an Anthropologist nor any form of scientist. These are the best efforts of layman who have built networks of scientists of the years, and the list is still growing in order to answer the question - what are they?
Hair & Genetics
Over the years, we have collected numerous hair samples most of which we have used the CSRIO Australian animal hair database to identify and most samples have been easily identified. The samples we have not been able to identify fit into the unknown category. These unknowns, under closer scrutiny of the external hair scale patterns, have extremely close similarities to human hair, so much so that in the past some specialists have instantly labelled human hair. After tireless work and cross referencing by other researchers here and abroad have they have found significant differences that have been matched in presentation and in observation to other samples in different parts of the country and from the United States, this doesn't mean they are the same species, its just that the hair have the same characteristics.
A forensic specialist, a Professor, here in Australia studied one of our samples over the last two years and concluded that whilst the outward appearance seems to suggest an exceptional closeness to human hair it is unlikely to be human. The hair is tapered, which tells us they hair has never been cut. The Professor also found that under examination of the internal cross section of the hair that there is a distinct lack medulla. This is consistent across all samples. Only a very small percentage (less than 1%) of human hair have this lack of medulla (Northern Europeans) but it is a distinct primate trait, consistent with great apes. The conclusion thus far (excluding DNA testing) is that on this examination that at very least they are primate, but not necessarily ape or human but possibly something bordering exceptionally close to both.
If the Professor is correct and that they are so close to both species and that the demarcation of species is extremely close and difficult to identify without a point of reference. The problem with DNA testing of these samples is that most of the DNA is contained within the medulla, no medulla virtually no usable DNA – which is why only hair samples with follicle will be tested by us moving forward. Furthermore given the possible closeness to human beings, when DNA testing in conducted the labs use human primers. This is problematic as the result you always get back is going to be either human, or unknown primate due to the probable genetic closeness, its a default position as the basic DNA tests are not sensitive enough to tell difference correctly, and we do not have the budget for a full genome report. Its also note worthy that as far we know, no DNA tests have been conducted using Great ape primers. We would envisage that the result if this was done, would be similar to the human tests.
The bottom line is two fold. 1. Better hair samples be obtained and 2. a serious budget for this genetic research are the only answers to these problems experienced with this type of testing. A full genome report is required on only the best samples.
So what else do we know?
Based upon our own research over the last 6 years in our research areas, we have found the following below ;
1. During Winter months in Australia they seem to be more diurnal and more nocturnal during the summer months.
1. During Winter months in Australia they seem to be more diurnal and more nocturnal during the summer months.
- They can be active during the day, they especially like cooler and overcast weather, seem to prefer wet and cool conditions
- They obviously will venture closer to humans at night and will not advance beyond tree lines during the day.
- We believe that they are omnivores, having strong preference towards sweet fruits such as melons, sweet corn, grapes and berries, will take meat when available. Similar in diet to an Orang-utan based on feeding station results and dental patterns we obtained from eaten corn cobs – do not seem to like vegetables such as lettuce or cabbage
- Given their reported size they could not survive on meat alone, estimated calorific intake by biologist Gary Opit could be 5000 calories per day +
- Behaviour seems to be closer to Gorilla (Primatology Field guide Volume 2) behaviour with a vocal range inline with Orangutan (Orangutans – Behavioural ecology and conversation – Oxford University press) MHz range.
- They will nest in trees, and sleep during the day under high thick canopies using natural formations as a first preference such as pandanis groves, giant elkhorns and staghorns either in or under large fallen trees, or like parrots inside of rotted tree trunks.
- Based upon daytime encounters we have found that they only seem to have good or sharp day vision inside 40 meters. Which is why we have often wore clothes that are black, brown or dark grey to purposely confuse the issue for them in order to try to get as close as possible, hoping they would mistake us for one of their own, at least from long range – definite light sensitivities
- Based upon day or night encounters they do not seem to like loud noises i.e.: heavy machinery, engines or gunfire.
|Gorrilla Bed
|Suspected Yowie Ground bed - Similarities in all three are striking
This is a brief list of just some of the traits we have found and observed ourself over the years. Expansion of these points is too large for this blog however, understanding leads to discovery and we have always known that proper scientific data collection and analysis is the key to unlocking this puzzle.
So does this mean they are Apes?
Not necessarily, but we what we do know is that they are a form or undiscovered Primate with a stable DNA structure, which it would have to be to survive in small populations – like an Orangutans. The Orangutan as a species is 19 million years old originating in Africa and leaving that continent along with Gigantopithecus and Gigantus and a few others and headed for ASIA. The Orangutan DNA has only mutated once in the time, 400,000 years ago when the Borneo branch or the species formed away from the main Sumatran line (I will address this idea in my next blog) however the point is that it is proven that small numbers of a species can exist so long as the DNA is stable.
We do know that they will sleep and live in trees as well as on the ground, we know that their diet, at least to that of our study subjects, is similar to orang-utan and that their vocalisations are similar too and comparable with other great apes. We know that from our sightings and witnesses accounts that the physical morphology is described as Ape like and some footprints have shared some characteristics with others apes, other prints have looked distinctly human in appearance. A paleo anthropologist told me that when Apes are young they have a more human looking build until they mature and their muscles begin to grow.
When it comes to their their possible intelligence however that where the comparisons to apes seems to end by and large. The two smartest apes on the planet and the closest to humans genetically is the Bonobo and Orangutan – with the Bonobo having been awarded human protectorate / non human rights by the United Nations. Based on data collected at feeding and camera stations by us and other researchers around the country their intelligence in avoiding detection and constant observation would seem to surpass the other two species. Their intelligence has been described by those who have witnessed it as a type of, 'people smart' in a primitive sense. The fact they fear humans and fear detection suggest a conscientiousness in in excess than that of contemporary great apes bordering on human-like intelligence.
The only one certain fact we know right now is that they are some form of primate, how close or how far to us is yet to be determined but based on very preliminary work and limited budgets. We have a theory as to who they may have been related to and how they got here but it is only a theory which I will address in my next blog, but that we cannot prove with good genetic samples and a budget to test them properly
Ray Doherty
Sunday, 26 April 2015
Survivor Man: Bigfoot By Ray Doherty April 2015In the words of Survivor Man Les Stroud he is not a big-footer, nor an enthusiast nor is he a witness to a sighting. He is a man who has had some experiences and he now wants answers - The truth. These are in his words in the new episodes of 'Survivor Man Bigfoot' airing in the US this April in which Les heads to deepest and most remote parts of Canada and the United States in his 'quest', for Bigfoot or at the very least proof or signs of a large Apex predator is living in North America. For a self described non believer we can follow Les through this series as he applies balanced scientific view in his work and is challenged by a series of events that has him questioning his beliefs about this creature. His guide, Todd Standing, is barely seen in these new adventures
In my view, this series is by far an away the most professionally produced series of documentaries on the subject that I have ever seen. Even the older 'Monster Quest' and 'In Search of ' series was very informative but this is by far the superior in terms of content that is relevant to not only the man in the street but also in some measure the field researcher where as so many contemporary shows fail. A man (or men) on the ground, searching, looking for signs, setting up feeding stations - applying their field craft in a methodical, thoughtful and professional way. This is how the subject matter needs to be handled and produced if we are serious on the content, and Stroud seems serious to me.
Now many of you will say, 'sure but he makes money from it or he gets paid for doing it' well of course he does, a documentarian is who he is, it's what he does. I have always maintained that it doesn't bother me in the slightest if people get paid for this work, so long as the content is genuine, first rate, follows scientific principles and is well produced. This certainly meets my criteria. In the plethora of poorly produced US cable shows on this subject, IE: Mountain Monsters, which make more of a mockery of the subject than rather provide a critical view, only serve to tarnish or to belittle the work of us genuine researchers in the view of the public at large.
|Todd Standing and Les Stroud on location in Alberta, Canada
In our work as researchers regardless of where are in the world and regardless of our quarry we must, through our own initiative and expense embrace and become, at some level, a Primatologist, Anthropologist, Biologist, Geneticist, Photographer, Outdoorsman, Trackers, Botanist - all of these things we must invest hours in knowing and using discipline in acquiring if we are to be and taken as serious for the reality is that we are in fact on our own and have only each other to work off. If we where perhaps millionaires who can engage a large range of paid specialists and an array of DNA labs then it would be vastly different. Stroud shows some simple techniques that if your not already using then you will find useful. He makes many good points, especially about remaining objective when in the field
As mentioned, there are several points I need to raise that I observed in this program that will in many ways answer a lot of our own questions as it relates to purported evidence in this country. I will say that I am somewhat disappointed that they (Standing & Stroud) kept this search strictly terrestrial, it tells me that perhaps Stroud should broadened his horizons a little further as we know in this country via our work and work and testimony of others that are also Arboreal. This was evidenced when several US based video-bloggers identified object(s) in tree's, photobombing the episode. I must say that some of these items are compelling.
|Les sets one of his hidden Camera's and DNA Traps at a feeding station
|A nearly identical stick structure found by us in 2012
A tree Structure that Stroud finds in
|A Bear print for Canada
How does this help us? well we don't have bear's, there are virtually no people I have ever seen with a 42 inch length print found in the middle of the Australian bush, regardless if it is semi used location. I believe we take this fact for granted and that we really do not consider the gravity of this reality. The skeptics will says its anything other than the single prints of a large bi pedal creature.
|A 44 Inch foot print found by The Australian Yowie Project in
June 2013
By looking at these two photos we can see that for us here in our work there is no confusion. There is no doubt. It is a salient point worth noting despite if you think that I have pointed out the bleeding obvious.
Our job should be easier, we dont have wolves, cougars, brown bears, black bears, wolverines, and a host of other predatory animals that not only confuse and potentially erase Sasquatch evidence for the equation is simple. Its either human as we know it or its not.
In conclusion we need more people in the bush with better quality equipment. Make your own Survivorman style programs for the more people out looking and applying basic scientific principles the sooner we can move onto the next phase of our work which is to study them. Finding them is only a quarter of the job.
Les Stroud has produced a brilliant series that has great content for all. It is a professional and serious look and a subject that has been dealt with by ridicule in the main stream media for decades. Finally a critical point of view and he gets results
- Cheers
Ray Doherty
NB: All images where found and supplied by google and as such are and remain in the public domain and a matter or public record) All other Images are and remain the copyright of the Australian Yowie Project (C) 2015
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So the weather bomb passed through Auckland yesterday, and today we have beautiful blue and sunny skies. I just had to take advantage of the lovely weather and go out for a walk, and what a better place to spend an hour this morning than a beautiful reserve in Grey Lynn. Kien was keen, and he took off as soon as we got on the path.
He collected sticks along the way.
What for? So he can throw them over the edge, hoping for them to land in the water.
He would find a stick on one side of the path and toss it over the edge on the other side. This game went on for a really long time (there were lots of sticks to be found and tossed!). I had to coax him to keep walking and find us a spot for lunch.
We found a nice little spot under some gum trees. In between bites of quiche he ran around, and climbed the stone steps close by. Look how big they are compared to him!
From the bakery where I got the quiche I also purchased a few little decorated biscuits (because they caught my attention in the display cabinet looking so pretty). Imagine my surprise when Kien ate a whole one, and then asked for another!
The boy likes to run - what more can I say. He ran...
...and ran...
...and ran all the way out of the reserve to the car.


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Following the tragic death of Ava's mother, Hilola Bigtree – gator-wrestling extraordinaire, The Bigtree family's amusement park Swamplandia finds itself burdened and drowning in massive amounts of debt. Each of the Bigtree family members, Chief (the dad) Kiwi (eldest son), Ossie (middle child) and Ava (youngest child) deal with the death and loss of both mother, wife and livelihood in their own ways. The Chief goes to mainland Florida to raise funds, Kiwi goes to mainland Florida to raise funds and go to school, although neither knows of each other's whereabouts. Ossie and Ava remain alone on the island, but Ossie is convinced she can communicate with the dead, and is soon lost in a romance with the deceased Louis Thanksgiving and subsequently runs away from home, leaving Ava to keep up appearances and try to sort through the mess that is her home.
Overall, I liked the book, but I felt that the book was about 50-75 pages too long and could have been shortened in many areas. It was a quiet book, not much action, but plenty of thoughtful moments, scenes and dialogue. Russell is a very gifted writer, and I love that despite the dark overtones of the book, she managed to infuse some very realistic humor and wit into the characters. None of the kids were wise beyond their years (I hate it when authors do that). The kids were struggling to figure out their situation just as much as their dad trying to keep their heads afloat. Each character had to go on their trek to experience life away from the amusement park in order to grow, and learn that in the end, family is the most important asset.
The book is told through 2 perspectives, Ava in the first person, and Kiwi in the 3rd person. I'm not sure why the author chose to switch the POV, but the decision left Ava in a more favorable light because we were able to get inside her head and understand her character and decisions a little bit more. Although I still don't understand why or how she was naive enough to trust the Bird Man so quickly upon meeting him. It bugged me when I first read it, and what happened between them later on only confirmed my resistance to that decision. Kiwi is an incredibly complex character and I really wish I could have gotten into his overly smart and erudite head. His book smarts clash strongly on the mainland, where people talk in slang and make crude jokes as a normal part of conversation. Kiwi is outcast a number of ways, despite his best efforts to blend in. Ossie felt like a throwaway character, although her storyline is the driving force of Ava's storyline.
This is Russell's first novel. She's previously written short stories, one collection features a short story about Ava. Although I haven't read it, I suspect that this short story was the inspiration for the novel Swamplandia! You can find this short story of Ava in St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves.


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|2018-NJCAA Division II PING All-America and All-Region Teams Announced
|Sunday, 20 May 2018 18:57
FORT WORTH, Texas – PING All-America and All-Region teams for NJCAA Division II were announced today by the GCAA.
Ryan Bailey and Leon D'Souza of South Mountain, Meridian's Isaiah Jackson, Trey Tobias of Walters States, and Mississippi Gulf Coast's Brice Wilkinson were named PING First-Team All-America selections.
Colby Blake of Mississippi Gulf Coast, MItchel Fifer and Will Kidder of Meridian, Kristian Kristensen of Parkland, Mott's Joe Montpas, and Alistair Snowdon of Murray State (OK) received honorable mention accolades.


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What Trumpcare Tells Us About Social Security
Friday, 17 March 2017
If you want to know what the Republicans in Congress will soon try to do to Social Security, pay attention to today's post.
As we have discussed in these pages many times over the years, Republicans have wanted to kill Social Security and Medicare since they were enacted in 1935 and 1965, respectively.
Republican House Speaker Paul Ryan is well known for his past attempts (so far failed) to kill Social Security, and the Robin-Hood-in-reverse American Health Care Act (aka Trumpcare) being debated now is a good indication – whatever happens to it – of what he and other Republicans will soon attempt with Social Security.
You have probably heard this widely reported premium nightmare people not yet old enough for Medicare will face if the ACHA becomes law:
"A 64-year-old earning [$26,500] will get sticker shock...Under the Republican plan, health insurers would be free to charge the senior more, raising that person's premium to $19,500.
"But the tax credit would be only $4,900, and the 64-year-old's share of the premium would then be $14,600 — about 10 times higher than the 21-year-old's."
You can comfortably assume that draconian changes of this kind will be adapted to fit Social Security when the Republicans move on to attack that program.
Ezra Klein, who is editor-in-chief at Vox and one of most knowledgeable policy journalists we have, made this video with a clear, easy-to-understand explanation of Trumpcare. It's worth five minutes of your time, keeping the future of Social Security in mind as you watch.
Late last year, Representative Sam Johnson (R-TX), chairman of the Social Security Subcommittee at the House Ways and Means Committee introduced H.R.6489 - Social Security Reform Act of 2016 - which he described as a "plan to permanently save Social Security."
At the time, estimable Los Angeles Times reporter, Michael Hiltzik called foul on that description:
"Followers of GOP habits won't be surprised to learn that it achieves this goal entirely through benefit cuts, without a dime of new revenues such as higher payroll taxes on the wealthy.
"In fact, Johnson's plan reduces the resources coming into the program by eliminating a key tax --another way that he absolves richer Americans of paying their fair share, while increasing the burdens of retirement for almost everyone else."
To move forward, the bill needs to be reintroduced in the new 115th Congress which has not been done yet but undoubtedly some form of those changes will show up in future Social Security legislation.
In January, Social Security guru, Nancy Altman, wrote about another, more secretive way Congress may try to cut, if not entirely kill, Social Security (and Medicare). It's complicated, involving back-stage rules changes, but here is Altman's short explanation: Congress would transform the programs avoiding personal accountability by
"Using changes in the arcane rules of the budget to force through subsequent cuts...By the time the American people realize what's happening, the rules that usher in the changes are in the past, and those voting for the cuts can claim that they have no choice, for budgetary reasons.
"The rule that has been adopted was telegraphed shortly after the election when Representative Tom Price, Chairman of the House Budget Committee and Donald Trump's nominee to be Secretary of Health and Human Services, proposed changes to the budget rules, which, if enacted, would end Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, as we know them."
As you know, Tom Price was confirmed as Secretary of Health and Human Services and Medicaid "as we know it" is already on the chopping block with Trumpcare.
One way or another, the Republicans will try to kill Social Security and as the president has made evident already with other campaign promises, we cannot depend on his repeated statement not to cut Social Security and Medicare to hold.
In fact, former South Carolina Congressman Mick Mulvaney who was recently confirmed as director of the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) has said that the president promised only to "save" Social Security. Nancy Altman had a few words to say about that:
"Mulvaney and other Republican elites, who hate Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, are now claiming that Trump was simply promising to 'save' these programs.
"Like the infamous comment about destroying the Vietnam village to save it, they argue that cutting or even dismantling these programs 'saves' them. In this twisted logic, Trump can cut these vital benefits, and not break his campaign promise not to cut them!
"The American people are not going to be fooled. If Mulvaney succeeds in convincing Trump to sign on to cutting Social Security, Medicare, or Medicaid, or even worse, ending them as we know them, Trump voters will know that they have been betrayed.
"And all Americans will know that the Republicans in Washington, including Trump, are working for Wall Street, not Main Street."
Oy. This administration is sure going to keep us busy. You can listen to a 10-minute interview with Nancy Altman about Trumpcare here - from fair.org.


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Join Sam Keninger, senior director of product marketing at Simpplr, for this free virtual session, and you'll learn:
- The most common challenges with intranet initiatives
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Save your organization from an intranet flop. Join us March 15 at 1 p.m.Central time for this free webinar.
Ragan.com Daily Headlines
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Velocity Solutions necesitaba un nuevo diseño de impreso o envases y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 13 diseños de 7 diseñadores freelance.
Our Business Background ::
Our business is located in Sydney city .We have just recently undertaken renovations within the pub to freshen up our image and the customer experience.
We are competing with many of the city bars i.e Ivy, establishment, cargo, & slip inn which all project a sleek, stylish and hip image.
For further information on who we are visit our website. http://www.shelbournehotel.com.au
Our Target Market: - 18 to 25 year olds is fun, young crowd who like to have a couple of drinks and dance the night away. They like RnB, commercial house, top 40 and remix classics. They are not the serious clubbing types. Fun and young and enjoy a drink.
Velocity Solutions Group Pty Ltd
New Years Eve artwork needs to projects a:
- Hip/Trendy
- Sexy and Funky design conceptincorporating the "CARNVALE theme"
- Must be FUN!!! .
- Rich bold colors
- Possiblyabstract background.
Here are some links of artwork to help your designs and ideas:
Shelbourne Hotel Logos:
Please note: Feel free to change the colours of the logos to match your designs if necessary.
Here are some artwork examples of New Years Eve Posters from Previous Years to Give you some ideas:
Any questions please feel free to email either myself on firstname.lastname@example.com or Deborah from the Shelbourne on firstname.lastname@example.com
Thanks !!
- Posters Designed in several sizes (880 x 1,180mm and 826 x 285mm)
Essential Information to include on the Posters:
- NYE 2008CARNIVALE - Must inclue the Shelbourne Logo as per the web links in the brief above- Celebratethe mystery and mayhem, as we bring to life the Carnivale theme throughout thevenue. - Views ofthe 9pm fireworks speculator from Darling Harbour- DJs from8pm til very late over 3 levels House / RnB / Remixes 80s & 90s /Commercial Dance.- Ticketsnow on sales $25 – or $30 on the night. - For allticket enquires call 9267 3100 – http://www.shelbournehotel.com.au- 200 Sussex Street Sydney email – firstname.lastname@example.com


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Photo: Shelby Dreher tees off at the Kalmar Ventures Shootout at Links. Ted Sloan/Energeticcity.ca
The Links Open got underway today with the Kalmar Ventures Shootout.
Community Interviews with Moose FM
The Shootout features 12 of the area's best golfers. This year's golfers include:
-Devon Klassen (defending shoot-out champion)
-Len Holland (owner of Links Golf course, winner of the 2008 Oilmen's)
-Burke Lauder (C.P.G.A at Lakepoint)
-Jim Holland – Long time Links player, Canadian Long Drive Champion 2001, 5 time Remax World Long Drive Finalist
-Jadon Christianson (2007 Links Club Champion)
-Jeremy Clothier (Saskatchewan Jr. Order of Merit Winner, Sask. Amateur participant 3 times)
-Shelby Dreher (Defending Links Open Champion)
-Ritchie Hosker (Peace Country Champion 2004/2006, 3 time BC Amateur Participant)
-Toby Coyle (Peace Country Open Champion 2005, Dawson Creek Oilmen's Champion 2005)
-Ryan Vaughn (CPGA at Lake Point)
-Warren Haugan – BC Am participant will be competing in Chilliwack for his C.P.G.A Card in August.
-Kirby Dreher – 2008 MAC Conference Champion, 2nd in BC Ladies' Amateur, captured the final CN Women Professional Ladies' tour event in Ottawa earning a berth into the 2008 L.P.G.A Canadian Ladies Champion
They will play 9 holes tonight to find the Champion, then the rest of the Links Open Tournament gets underway Saturday. We will have results from the entire event on Sunday.


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Pipes burst. Air ducts fall. The power goes out. Do you have a plan for what you and your employees will do when one of these things happen? What about in the case of a large snowfall, bad storm or flood? Here are a few tips to help you make it through when things go wrong:
Anticipate: Take a moment to think about some of the worst possible scenarios that your store could face. While odds are against the chances of a total catastrophe, bad weather throwing a wrench in the works is actually pretty likely. At some point, you may also have to deal with flooding, a blackout, fire or another unexpected event.
Develop a plan: In the event of something truly catastrophic, there may not be a whole lot of recourse, but you should at least have some basic steps in place to help you get through almost anything that comes your way.
Get the word out: If your store can't open, how will you inform your customers? Many people head online for information about businesses closing due to inclement weather, so updating your store's Facebook page and website is a good way to get the word out.
Make sure your staff members know what to do as well — are certain employees expected to try to make it in, due to proximity? Who is responsible for each step of your plan? What should your staff members do if someone is injured in your store?
Check specific details as well, like if your lease contains set rules for clearing sidewalks and entrances, or exactly who you should notify if there's property damage. Having a clear chain of steps to follow will help your team keep their cool in nearly any situation.
Be prepared to wing it: Even with a carefully laid out plan, there are going to be times when you have to roll with the punches. As long as everyone remains safe, you can find a way to sort out just about anything, regardless of how awful the situation may seem at the time.


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Choosing Reputable Dachshund Breeders
Choosing the Right Dachshund Breeder for You
Searching for a new Dachshund puppy can be a daunting task! With all the bad things you hear about puppy mills, how do you go about choosing Reputable Dachshund Breeders that you can trust? Here are a few tips, just in case you can't find a new baby here with us.
Believe it or not, this is actually an article I've been putting off for months. I have always refused to say anything bad about another breeder. I know how hard they work and I don't want to be the type of person that would talk down about someone to make myself look better. So instead, I am drawing on my experiences as a dachshund puppy buyer instead of as a dachshund breeder. Now, when it comes to buying a puppy, I really believe you should choose the breeder that makes you feel "at home" and comfortable. Someone that makes you feel confident. As a Dachshund lover, I have been in your shoes more times than you can imagine. It takes a lot of time and energy to find the right breeder to buy my puppies from, too! Every time I have looked for a new breeder for myself, I start out by learning everything I can about the particular pattern or color that I am looking for. I am looking for breeders that love their doxies as much as I do and have a lot of knowledge about our breed.
You want a Reputable Dachshund breeders that really know and loves their breed.
Now, the first thing I did, when I was ready to add a Dachshund to my home, was research the BREED itself. You have to know what you're talking about before you can make up your mind if your breeder knows what she's talking about. Do you know what I mean? Of coarse, I am a researcher by nature. Things like that come easy for me. And, even at that.. I get aggravated sometimes, too. Mostly because for every term you type into Google, there are 400,000 DIFFERENT answers. Right?
Well, you can't expect to learn everything about anything in ten minutes flat! Slow down and take a few days to read some of the different sites on the Internet. Or in my case . . take a few days to read everything on my site. (lol) I've spent years researching and writing articles for this site to both entertain you and educate you about Dachshund Breed Info. When shopping for your Dachshund breeder, choose the smart ones that have been at it for years. You won't be sorry.
You want a breeder with experience.
You will never regret choosing a dachshund breeder with experience. When I first started doing this, I was so proud of myself. I would tell everyone I met that this was my second litter..or my fourth. Little did I know that being inexperienced was nothing to brag about. It just meant that I really didn't have a clue. I was going to make mistakes. Learn hard lessons. There is no shame in the fact that after ten years, I have better quality dachshund puppies and know how to take care of my babies better than ever before. When anyone starts something new or sets out to learn something new, it takes years to accomplish. I hate to judge other people for the things that they do, but to be honest.. don't buy your puppies from that nice couple down the block that owns two dachshund pets and let them breed. They probably don't have a clue about genetics, health screenings, vaccination and wormer protocols, etc. The hundreds of little things that you learn through the years becoming a reputable dachshund breeder. Not to say that all puppies that come from breeders are perfect. That's a ridiculous notion. Nothing is perfect. There are general puppy illnesses that aren't deadly and nobody is immune to. Every great breeder that I have ever known has little problems. Fortunately, they are so dedicated to their customers that they they are supportive and knowledgeable when those little things do happen.
Screen Dachshund Breeders' Websites
Believe it or not, you can learn A LOT about a breeder by spending time on their website. Dog breeders are not making a fortune and hiring big time firms to build their websites. EVERY single breeder I know as spent years building their sites by themselves with very little help. These websites are an extension of their personalities and breeding program. If you spend enough time on their websites, you'll get to know them pretty well. IF there is no information there, then go elsewhere. Find a site that you are comfortable with and enjoy spending time on. Always read those "about us" pages. They're important. Look for past customer pages. Do they have a health contract on their site? You never want to buy a puppy without a health contract.
Visiting the Breeder vs. Online Shopping
Most sources on this topic will demand that you go to the breeders home and meet her dogs. But, that's not always a possibility. Depending on how far you live from the breeder. Shipping is a very popular way of buying dachshund puppies from very reputable breeders in other states. Online shopping is the new world order. There is nothing wrong with that. ALL puppies must be vet checked before they are allowed on an airplane. That's a BIG plus. Personally, I like to at least see pictures of the parents. That's a great indicator of what type of adult your new puppy will develop into. Of coarse, if you live close enough to visit your breeder, that's great. If she's anything like us, or the dozens of breeder friends that we have, she'll be happy to show off her babies!
Now, if you would like to learn a little more about Ponderosa Dachshunds, I recommend these articles. Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions.
Check out our policies and view special offers that sets Ponderosa Dachshunds ahead of the rest.
You can read a lot about our personal views of breeding, by reading our advice to others that are interested in breeding.
Dachshund Breeders Information