Oklahoma Travels

A week without school, soccer, or piano, and my parents coming to visit: what to do, what to do? I knew we wanted to see more of Oklahoma since we live here now. We're an outdoorsy sort of family (despite the children's protests), so I looked into state parks. There are a number of them with hills, trails and caves, all of which we enjoy.

We had already explored the first - Red Rock Canyon - but felt it was worth a second visit. Unfortunately, we overlooked the spring aspect - water covered half of one of the trails and mud the other half. The children didn't seem to mind the shorter walk or slogging through water and mud. Mum and Dad were not thrilled with the latter. We did see evidence of beavers, and Mum looked at birds. We stopped at the Cherokee Trading Post on the way home for some window shopping and goofing off.






We drove in a great loop to see the next set of parks. At Boiling Spring State Park, we strolled through a winter skeleton of a woods to the river, reveling in the sunlight and checking out the various camp sites for future use. The children wished the pool was open and the adults admired the stone cabins overlooking the little man-made lake.


Next in the loop, Alabaster Caverns State Park offered a trail and a cave tour. At 9:00 AM, frigid air stung the inside of our throats and our faces as we snapped pictures at the overlook and hiked a little way down into the narrow ravine. Inside the cave, we meandered through the prescribed tour, craning our necks to spot highlighted deposits of alabaster and gypsum, and getting some shocking nose-to-nose confrontations with members of various bat species.

Driving back down to Oklahoma City, we passed Gloss (or Glass) Mountains State Park. The red, flat-topped messas have large deposits of Gypsum (or Selenite), which sparkle like pieces of glass in the sun. While researching this place, I was confused as to whether this was a state park or not. According to a sign at the park, volunteers built and maintain its facilities. Technically, it is not a state park. Either way, it is picturesque - a beautiful place to stop for a short hike and picnic.

The last stop on the loop (we had to take a small detour) was the Sod House Museum. I am not a big museum fan. In fact, my back tenses just thinking about going to a museum. However, this was small and manageable. The museum curators built a warehouse-like building around this well-preserved sod house. On the outside, the sod house looks a little like a chief's house in a small Malawian village. Not on the inside, though! It left me with a very mixed-up impression of early settler life in Oklahoma - was it basic or not? They played the piano inside mud walls... A nice touch was the one-on-one talk with a staff member about the family who lived in the house. She gave us many neat anicdotes about their way of life.

Piano Exam

Scooter had his first Guild Piano Audition yesterday. I had no idea what to expect. His teacher greeted us when we arrived. She asked if Scooter had ever sight read. Nope. She calmly told him 2 or 3 tips to help him. Scooter nodded and continued gnawing on a nail nub. I broke out in a sweat – I well remember sight reading from my own piano exams growing up. Poor kid, I thought – he has no idea what he is in for. But then again, I could tell from his antsy pacing and constant knuckle cracking that he was nervous.

In between chasing Boo around the building and nervously listening at the door to the exam room, I interrogated the teacher about this Guild thing. It turns out it’s a succession of exams offered through the American College of Musicians – somewhat like the piano exams I took through the British Piano Teachers’ Association. Scooter entered at the Elementary Level, Section E – the highest elementary level. From there, he can advance through Intermediate A-E and Preparatory A-E (I’m not sure what the preparatory level is preparing him for…). At his level, he has to play 10 pieces from memory (though it is more like 11, if you count that one of the pieces is a transposition and he has to transpose it into 2 different keys). He also had to play scales, cadences and he had to sight read another piece.

After half an hour, Scooter came out and couldn’t quite meet my eye. “I didn’t do so well,” he whispered. I could tell he was trying not to cry. He listed all the mistakes he made in his pieces, especially his transpositions (I heard those at the door and had to agree with him).

It reminded me of when I was in school. “How did you do?” my friends and I would demand of each other as soon as we left an exam room. Then we’d compare notes and guess how many questions we answered incorrectly. I’d come home and tell Mum and Dad how terribly I failed each test. Dad said, “I don’t believe it. You always moan about how awfully you failed, dear, and then you always do really well.”

Being curious, I asked Scooter about his sight reading. “That was the easiest part. I mostly had to play the same series of notes for a few measures before moving to another series of notes. No problem.” For some, maybe…

We waited about 5 minutes, and then his teacher came out with his results. She sat down with him and went through all the comments and scores. Scooter fidgeted and wiggled on his chair, his expression turning from uncomfortable to shyly pleased as he realized just how well he did. He earned a “Superior,” which is like an A. Well done, my boy!

Guns!

I didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused. I was in Ladies Bible Study listening to my fellow sisters in Christ discussing their guns. They all had at least one and they all knew how to use them. In fact, they were passionate about the right to carry guns and the need to use them in their defence. I had a really hard time picturing these church-going ladies as gun-toting Mamas.

Like my reaction to the pre-Bible study gun discussion, I am unsure how I feel about guns. I am not adverse to guns, but I have never considered owning one myself.

My Dad had two guns in our house growing up. And he had the appropriate licenses – something hard to come by in Malawi. When there was a rash of robberies in our neighbourhood, he would take out the rifle and shoot a couple shots in the air in the evening – “to discourage them from robbing us,” he said. I remember him running to get the gun when a hyena appeared in our garden. I was happy the hyena ran away before my Dad could shoot him. Another time, Dad used the rifle to shoot a rabid dog dead at his feet.

Dad showed me the guns and where to find the ammunition in case I ever needed one of them while he was away on a trip. I was a teenager by then and found the trust pleasingly chilling. I didn’t really consider what I would do if I ever heard someone in the house while I was alone. What would I have done then? Could I shoot someone?

One night my parents woke to hear movement in the office next to their room. Dad loaded the gun, threw open the office door and flicked on the light. He pointed the gun at my sister, who had decided to sleep on a cot in the office. Tanya just about peed in her pants. I’m glad he looked before he shot. I’m glad I didn’t have to ever load the gun and confront anyone.

When I was a child in Malawi, few people carried or even owned guns. That was how the president liked it. In the UK, the police don’t carry guns as a rule. They believe if they carry guns, it will just encourage criminals to do so. In the US, many people actively defend their right to bear arms. This feeling is not as predominant in Iowa or Minnesota or Wisconsin – owning guns was not an issue I discussed over the water cooler at work or over coffee in church. But in Oklahoma, and even more so in Texas I understand, guns are an issue of great importance. They are part and parcel of life here: one is more likely to live without a refrigerator than a gun. It is a big cultural difference that I have to wrap my mind around.