E Kwanongoma and the marimba chick

E Kwanongoma drove me crazy yesterday, thanks to my new, sorta old friend Elinor. She's a "Marimba Chick," you see, and that CD she gave me Saturday has resonated throughout the Love house and over and over within at least one Love brain ever since.

I first listened to the upbeat, fun album while driving home from the Moscow Young Authors' conference. Since then, the complete set of South African and Caribbean marimba melodies, arranged by Zimbabwean marimba maestro Tendekai Kuture, has played no fewer than five times in the master bedroom. Bill even used it to serenade himself off to sleep last night.

The last number "E Kwanongoma Reprise" had played by the time the telephone rang in the darkened bedroom----in concert with the last dance on "Dancing with the Stars." I raced from the living room, stumbled through the darkness and fumbled for the telephone. I knew Elinor was on the other end, wondering why I hadn't answered after ten rings, and I knew Bill was wishing for more marimba sounds to lull himself back to sleep.

Elinor scheduled the call to tie up a few loose ends and to rehash the aftermath of that night I spent in the University of Idaho monastic headquarters aka the Graduate Student Residence facility. She'd written a stinging letter to the residence-hall person in charge, suggesting the least they could do for the $65 one-night payment was to supply toilet paper and maybe even two paper-thin white towels for women who want to dry their hair as well as their bodies.

Years ago, I thought of Elinor Michel as a treasure. After spending several hours with this University of Idaho legend, I'd call that assessment an understatement. I first heard about Elinor when my sister Barbara attended the university back in the 1980s. I've also heard about her over the years from numerous writing teachers around the Inland Northwest. After all, they'd all gotten to know her through the Northwest Inland Writing Project (NIWP) with which the name Elinor Michel is synonymous.

A hard taskmaster, they've all told me. She's a wonderful teacher, and she'll work your butt off, others have said. Elinor is more than a wonderful taskmaster; she's an impressive human being, and I always find that more important. My direct connection with her occurred about a dozen years ago when I applied for a scholarship to take a 5-credit writing seminar through the NIWP. I viewed it as an efficient way to pick up five credits in one fell swoop, rather than nickeling and diming a class here and a class there.

As the dates for the seminar, which required four or five weeks of work, drew nearer, I had to back out. I still had kids at home, and I could not tear myself away from them or from all my other activities for that length of time. I wrote to Elinor, feeling pretty guilty for taking a scholarship slot someone else, who would have followed through, could have used.

Instead of the cold shoulder, I received the most empathetic, uplifting, thoughtful response I could have ever expected. She also assured me that my scholarship would still be available any time in the future if I wanted to take the course. Some day I'll meet this woman and thank her, I thought. She has a heart. She cares. She doesn't even know me from a hole in the ground---and she took the time from her busy schedule to make me feel better. I was impressed.

I had a chance to view Elinor in action this past weekend, and I'm still impressed. She cared enough to take extra time to show me a good time, to attend to my needs---even when I told her I would live if I didn't have Internet for one night in my life. We went to the dance recital at the university. We dined and met other English teachers, including her husband, Walter.

We gabbed about the seemingly infinite human connections both of us share after living our separate lives in rural areas 130 miles apart for 60-plus years. The ultimate connection came when I was talking about sharing an apartment with my sister-in-law and two other students during junior year at the university.

When I told her my sister-in-law Mary was working as a graduate student TA at the time, she mentioned another TA who's been her friend for years---Linda Durnbaugh. Elinor almost fell out of her car when I said, "Oh, she was one of my roommates." Elinor had taught Upward Bound with Linda for years.

Since those days, Elinor has created a writing teachers' dynasty through the Northwest Inland Writing Project, and with that she has earned undying respect and gratitude from everyone associated with this well-planted program.

I learned over the weekend that her other love is music. She's one of those marimba chicks in the group Sesitshaya who take their music to places like the Spokane Folk Life Festival, the Moscow Farmers' Market, to churches and to anywhere folks want to listen to their distinct sounds. In return, they ask for, at least, their traveling expenses.

Any profits earned go into a student scholarship fund through the First United Methodist Church in Moscow and a fund for Africa University, also sponsored by Methodist churches in the Northwest. I'm planning to share the CD with the Festival and POAC folks in hopes that they'll invite Elinor's group to Sandpoint.

Just as "E Kwanongoma" and the more recognizable "Yellow Bird" resonated throughout the house and within my brain all day yesterday, my enriching experience this past weekend with my new-old friend Elinor will sustain me for a long, long time. The University of Idaho has truly had a gem in this lady for 40 years, and writing teachers and their students for hundreds of miles have reaped the benefits of her vision and her dedication.

As a phenomenal, dedicated educator and as an exemplary human being, Elinor Michel is truly a keeper!