Roxanne Ross's Open Salon Blog

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Fri, 10 Sep 2010 06:09:03 -0400

Every Saturday and Sunday morning, I rise early and walk a 30-minute loop through the jungle. It's not pure jungle, but rather a place where "man" meets jungle. The road I walk along is paved and there are some houses and even a golf course along the route. However, as it was once all dense jungle, there are several stretches along my walk where the trees are high and the vines are long. And in the trees, there are monkeys. Lots and lots of monkeys.

There is a sign along the route that says the equivalent of "Please don't feed the monkeys." And of course, it is directly in front of that sign where people do just the opposite. And the monkeys, very comfortably, come down from the branches and gorge on the bananas, papayas and whatever else is offered.

A few weeks ago, it must have been birthing season. I saw lots of mommy monkeys carrying their newborns. Very cute. I felt fortunate to bear witness at such close range. Sometimes I have to walk through a group of 20-30 cat-sized monkeys eating fruit. It amazes me to think that I get closer to these monkeys, sometimes as close as 5 feet, than I could ever be in a zoo. Still, I am careful not to act in a way they might interperet as a threat. Because although they eat fruit, they have very sharp teeth.

Sometimes, the monkeys that share my walking path are as big as Saint Bernards. On these mornings, I look down so as not to make eye contact and steer very clear of their path. Sometimes I turn around and retreat until they have crossed the road.

I do like seeing the monkeys. It's a real reminder that we humans are not the only creatures on the planet. It's also a reminder that if I don't show a little

R-E-S-P-E-C-T, I could get bit.

What if?

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 09:11:59 -0500

What if

you truly believed

that what you have

is enough?

What if

the energy you spend

aspiring for more

material things,

were suddenly free?

How would you

pass your days?

What if

the thoughts you have

comparing your car,

your home and your life

with others,

disappeared?

What ideas

might you ponder?

What if

You had no wishes

for a better body or face,

nicer teeth or thicker hair?

What might

you hope for

instead?

What if

we all lived

knowing that…

what we have

is enough?

What if

we all believed

that what we have

is enough?

What if?

By Roxanne A. Ross

Nov. 2009

Shoeless in Malaysia

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 10:09:48 -0400

This morning, my husband David woke up and prepared for work as usual. He showered, shaved, ate breakfast, and gathered his things. He unlocked our wooden front door and then unlocked the barred grill that is typical on all doors and windows in Malaysia. He reached one stocking foot across the threshold and slipped it into his ….”YOU’RE ….F*&#ing….KIDDING ME!”

In Malaysia, as in much of Asia, it is common practice to remove ones shoes BEFORE entering a home. Many people have rows of shoes and even shoe racks outside their front door to hold their footwear. When you think about where the bottom of your shoes are while you are wearing them, and all the germs and filth they collect, this ritual makes a lot of hygienic sense. And so, one leaves their shoes outside before entering a home. And upon exiting, the first step one takes is into their shoes. David expected to slip on his shoes as he does every morning. To his dismay, someone else had the same idea, and they had it first.

In the middle of the night, by the light of the moon (and the light illuminating our front drive) someone entitled themselves to most of the shoes on our outside shoe rack. The biggest loss was David’s work shoes. Size 13 well-crafted soft leather slip-ons are not easily come by in the US. It is much less likely to find shoes of these relatively monstrous proportions in shops catering to Malaysian clientele. My new running shoes now also have new owners. Fortunately, not all of our shoes were stored outside. And though not too fashionable for work, David is still the happy owner of a pair of running shoes, Crocks and flip-flops.

Our shoe thief was an individual with distinguished taste. Our early morning visitor did not claim every shoe on the rack, but rather carefully culled through the collection. My new running shoes and the children’s Crocks made the cut. We imagine our shoe thief lingering in front of our shoe rack, holding up each pair in the moonlight and considering their worth. We imagine our thief, cigarette to the lips, quietly inhaling while admiring the craftsmanship of David’s leathers. We imagine our thief, when the time came to go, carelessly discarding his cigarette butt on our drive. Arms loaded with shoes, we imagine our thief sneaking off into the night, looking both ways before crossing the street.

I do wonder what has become of our shoes. Will their new owners enjoy them as we did? Will they trustingly remove them before entering a home? Down the street from our house there is a construction site. Indonesian immigrants work around the clock rebuilding the hillside that slid down and buried people and homes last December. They are generally men with small statures, small feet and thin legs. When not wearing rubber work boots, they go barefoot or wear well-worn rubber sandals. I imagine they have never donned shoes made of leather or even with laces. I imagine what their skinny brown ankles might look like sticking out from my size 10.5 running shoes. I do not know what I would do if I saw one of them, or anyone else, standing in my shoes. Probably nothing. I just hope our shoes have found feet that need them.

Fallen Gecko

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 11:09:05 -0400

It is USUALLY wonderful to be surrounded by so much greenery and so many animals here in Malaysia. This is not a usual moment.

I am sitting at the dining room table working on my computer. A tail-less gecko just fell on my wrist and then plummeted to the floor. Across the room his severed tail wiggles, but not so quickly anymore. I don't know from whence he fell... and surprisingly I didn't shriek...not out loud anyway. I nudged the upper half of the little fellow with my foot and he seems to have passed. I picked up the broom to sweep up his still tail and it twitched. Not a big twitch. In the dust pan it went. I attempted to sweep up the rest of him and he scurried into the corner. I have lost track of him now, but am sure we'll meet again.

Blood-Sucking Leeches

Wed, 9 Sep 2009 07:09:14 -0400

Saturday morning marked our first encounter with leeches. Granted a 3-day weekend to celebrate Malaysia’s Independence Day, we were inspired to go for a hike in KL. Our task was to trek through the rain forest. Our reward would be a dip in the ponds above a local waterfall. The only challenge, beyond cardiovascular, was to avoid the teams of squishy tubular blood-sucking leeches that lined the trail.

It turns out that leeches are keen at sensing movement and are actually drawn to our carbon-dioxide rich exhalations. In the wettest parts of the trail, the leeches “stood” upright, dancing in our path…reaching towards us, desperately trying to throw themselves aboard our mud-soaked shoes. Once aboard, they would inch their way to softer territory. Sometimes, that meant they would climb up our legs. Often they would squirm their way between shoe and sock. Then, unbeknownst to us, they would gorge themselves on our nutrient-rich blood.

We were squeamish at first.. that is to say, we responded to the first few leech mountings with shrieks and cries of terror. As the hike progressed, however, screening each other for leeches became routine. We even became adept at “flicking” and disengaging the creatures from our shoes, legs, and in one hiker’s unfortunate case… his “nether regions.”

The leeches that were successful, hung on until satiated and then left as silently as they had arrived. Sometimes, our only knowledge of their comings and goings was the thin stream of blood running down our legs. Those that unwittingly hosted leeches on their feet went home with blood soaked socks, thus making the wounds seem much more impressive than they really were.

Well after we returned from the hike, showered and napped, I was still thinking about the leeches. My thoughts wandered from the leeches to our use of their name to characterize those we consider “free-loaders.” The real leeches didn’t take more blood than any of us could afford to lose. Their method of puncture, blood sucking and departure was painless. Beyond the sacrifice of a few stained socks, their comings and goings represented no great inconvenience. Though I am not sure how, I trust that these legless leeches perform a great function in nature’s web. Perhaps their human counterparts do to.