Building a Killington Dream Lodge part 24
When my husband Duane and I fled to Vermont to take a break and recover from my miscarriage, we spent time with my parents who were very encouraging as they always were. Dad, also had updates on the house. He’d been hard at work completing projects, both down and upstairs. Finishing wood work, installing more cabinets, and insulating the basement—a must. Mom was busy cooking, organizing, and furnishing more rooms upstairs. Our Killington Dream Lodge was no longer ethereal—it was a dream coming true.
Duane and I set out to take a gentle hike around Kent Pond. We held hands as we caught glimpses of goose, duck and loon families we love. We tried to imagine what we’d most like to do to reset our thinking and improve our sad mood…something positive to cheer us up, something we’d be excited about.
The shimmering water gave me an idea. “Let’s lead a tour to China! The changes taking place seem very hopeful…”
“Yes, after the Cultural Revolution’s turmoil,” Duane added.
“It can be a friendship study tour. We can request special visits based on our tour members’ interests.
I wanted to travel by bus to see rural villages. “Let’s travel by train whenever we can, and include an overnight trip,” my train-loving husband said.
Back in Richmond, 16 friends, colleagues, and a few new comers joined our US-China People’s Friendship Association tour. Their interests included music, art, literature, history, development, rural life, medical and social work, family and women’s issues.
I hadn’t been to China yet and didn’t know what to expect except for Duane’s observations and our training as tour leaders. Our national and local hosts were amazing at fulfilling our requests. The Chinese People were welcoming, too. Some hadn’t seen Westerners before. Although the culture and everything was new, I felt a certain familiarity there.
Our journey was extraordinary with visits to amazing places like the Great Wall, Forbidden City and Temple of Heaven in Beijing. Shanghai, Hangzhou, and Suzhou followed with villages in between. Banquets and demonstrations were plentiful. Artists painted traditional Chinese brush for us. Musicians played ancient instruments. We attended performances by the Beijing Opera and Shanghai Circus. The Children’s Palace welcomed us to see talented youth trained in the arts. We watched cocoons unravel in a silk factory, acupuncture used as anesthesia for brain surgery, and prescribed herbs for medicinal tea dispensed through chutes to baskets for patients. Everything fascinated us and we had long talks with our hosts. We passed through the countryside on bus and train, including an overnight in the train’s bunks.
Free markets were just beginning in China where entrepreneurs set up stalls to sell their vegetables and varied goods, offer acupressure, massage, and haircuts in the streets. I bought some trinkets and toys and couldn’t resist adorable baby outfits. Money was flowing into peoples’ hands. China was opening up to new ideas, more initiative, and reward for hard-working individuals following the ten year Cultural Revolution’s crack down. It was inspiring to see that workers were appreciated for contributing to the good of the Chinese People.
The All China Women’s Federation, the largest organization for women in the world, was reminding people that “Women Hold Up Half the Sky” through education about modern family life. Men were praised as “model husbands” for helping at home and treating wives with respect. The vast majority of Chinese lived in third world conditions in the remote countryside. An immense literacy program was underway to teach the Chinese People to write and read. (At the founding of the PRC in 1949, the illiteracy rate was 80% and population below 200 million. By 1978 with a population of one billion, illiteracy was 25%.)
Mom was our travel agent and had booked our group in a traditional Japanese guest house, Ryokan, in the royal City of Kyoto. We slept and sat on mats on the floor, dined on savory treats in tiny dishes, and bathed in a tiled two tiered sauna room. In Tokyo, we stayed in an elegant hotel and saw Gregory Peck in our elevator. I was speechless and in awe of the handsome actor and my savvy husband who complimented him on his performances in “The Scarlet and the Black” and “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Japan offered the romantic respite Duane and I needed after leading our rigorous tour. Back in the States, we left for Vermont to update my parents on our wonderful journey.
I was tired when we arrived. Jet lag had set in. All I cared to do was sleep. The coffee that usually helped wake me up didn’t taste right. I lacked my normal get up and go. I was tired of my family’s habit of working all of the time. I hoped at some point we could relax and do more things we loved in Vermont like hike, fish and swim in summer and ski in winter on Killington’s slopes, (only a mile from our house). Was it because we built it ourselves from the ground up? Or could it be the Puritan Work Ethic of order, self-discipline, diligence, and sacrifice? The list of tasks was never ending. Couldn’t we goof off now and then without feeling guilty if we weren’t helping? I admit, making progress on our ski lodge was most gratifying, but on occasion, these thoughts crossed my mind.
I soon discovered why I was fatigued. Chinese food had cleared out my plumbing and our Japanese rest was all that it took. I was expecting, once again. After my last devastating experience, when I’d followed all the rules, I decided to eat whatever I wanted (when I wasn’t nauseous or queasy)—usually sour cream and onion potato chips.
Sixty pounds later, on Jan. 27, 1984, the “Jill who ate Richmond” delivered Daniel Dye Finger, a precious 22”, 8lb. 13oz. bouncing baby boy with his “mother’s features and father’s fixtures.” He was pure joy, as sweet as could be, bright, alert, observant, responsive… the perfect addition to the Dye-Finger Family. Daisy, our gentle year old Yellow Lab became Danny’s Nanny right away. She stayed beside him 24/7, while our senior cat, Tigger, kept watch from a distance. He was curious but somewhat wary.
Duane’s parents arrived several days before the due date and stayed to welcome Danny into this world. My folks arrived the very next day and helped us survive for the first two weeks. Who could have imagined it would take all four of us to care for one little baby boy?
Marguerite Jill Dye is an artist and writer who divides her time between Killington and Bradenton, Florida. She loves to hear from her readers at jilldyestudio@aol.com.
