The Future is a Place

(Note: this article was written by my friend Roxanne Amico who is an artist and radio producer living in Buffalo. I was dazzled by this article and asked her if I could post it on my blog. She said yes, and I am happy. The above picture is also by Roxanne and is called "Circle Casting". Links to Roxanne's site are at the end of this post. Enjoy. Be inspired. Be hopeful)

The Future is a Place
By Roxanne Amico

We walked to the playground, from my mother's house, where I go for dinner most Friday nights, to play with my sister's 2 daughters (10 and 5 yrs old) and my mom's dog. The ten year old has mastered everything at the playground with an admirable cockiness, and still challenges herself to step outside her limits. The five year old worships her older sister and wants to do all the older one does. I've been marvelling this spring over how much stronger they are, how much more confident in all the things they do...

The five year old saw what her bigger sister did on the monkey bars--a move that made ME envious--and she wanted to do it. What she can't do alone, I help her with if I can. I couldn't help her this time. I had to say no. I hate that. So does she. She stomped away, her hair flying behind her like a kite with the words ":F-You" written on it... I know how she felt--I knew that if I were bigger or stronger, I could have helped her. I walked slowly behind her to her pouting spot and told her that it was only because I didn't want her getting hurt by doing something I couldn't help her do. "It's not fair! Why can't I do ANYthing?" I told her how much she does this year that she couldn't do last year, when she was four. I knew that would have some meaning, because she makes it clear on a regular basis how proud she is to have arrived at five years old. I called her older sister over to help remind her of the strides she's made in one year. She wanted to do that monkey bar thing though and pressed her case. I said, "You will." She said, "When?"

I said what I knew to be the most irrelevant answer I could give a five year old child, knowing both before, during, and after saying it that it was inane: "In the future."

It was inane because ultimately time means at once everything and nothing to a five year old. "Five years old" is just "more than four", and therefore "better", in many respects because she feels progressively more privileged "now" than "before". It means this thing that means so much more to everyone else --older and bigger--around her, and therefore becomes something she wants desperately to understand, as if it were the secret to the universe. Her mother and I laughed about this recently, because she's been asking, "What time is it?" a lot lately, (..."Why--You got a date?"...), just as she's been talking about death and age. The future is nothing, does not exist, and I know this, yet to say, "In the future" was all I could think to say, while all the while I thought about the problems with this answer, the things I did not say to her, about how I hate this answer I am about to give her... I hate it because I hate this culture that teaches children to become adults who sell their lives to the clock and wallet; because I loathe the fact that she is growing up in a culture that is obsessed with pretending death won't happen, and therefore lives insanely as if the future is the only thing, a culture then unwittingly enslaved to the future as death, disguised as eternal youth, which is actually eternal ignorance, and amounts to acute lack of responsibility for the lives of others in other cultures who die at the hands of this foolishness--others who cannot--don't have the luxury to-- forget about their impending death, too often imposed by this culture...

...I feel rage rise in my chest, right next to the grief that I've got a niece who is 5, one who is 10, one who is 13, and another who is 16, knowing as I do that the future is grim because:

* if the bee population collapses which it is, humanity has 4-5 yrs to survive;
* if the climate change reports are accurate … we have maybe 20 yrs before it's too late to do anything to stop the worst of the consequences of climate change ...
* because I know that another 570+ species go extinct every day, huge areas of the planets forests are felled and cleared every day, more topsoil is removed, deserts keep expanding, oceans keep dying, Greenland and all places ice are melting at a much faster rate;
* because we act like the economy is ok because it hasn't hit "us" yet, but we're just plain wrong and to say otherwise is like talking a language no one can translate. And there are good reasons it SHOULDN'T continue as it is, and in the middle of ALL of the above, people still think we will find a technological silver bullet fix for the energy crisis we are now immersed in ----
* AND-this culture keeps pretending that to look closely at these facts is to invite depression, rather than it being an act of reason to look at the facts and recognize WE -CANNOT-GO-ON-LIKE-THIS YET-WE-CONTINUE-TO-ACT-LIKE-WE-CAN....

And when a 5 yr old asks me one 'simple' question, I think of the rest of her life in these conditions, because I love her, and because I know how much she loves to be alive. (And because I know she won't go all ga-ga about how fast and high that dow jones is climbing--whoop-de-effing do--Aren't we all doing so wonderfully???? I know she won't say something even more inane like, "hey--but we can always try wind/solar-power, while all the while ignoring all these other factors, and forgetting that even these "low tech" solutions rely on PETROLEUM )

Now before I get any emails telling me everything is ok, or checking in on my state of mental health, I'll just say right now I am not "Depressed". This time is one of the happiest, most satisfying and exciting times of my life. What I despise is this culture, not people, not reality, not everything. I can't stand that to merely look at and raise the topic of the danger we are in brings people to blind fear, rather than awakened agency, but I keep looking for a way...

And I think that until we truly see and feel and grasp the deeply disturbing reality, we cannot truly do anything effective about it.

I passionately believe it's entirely possible to love life, love the people I know and many I don't know, love the planet and all living things, past, present, and future. And at the same time to have deep contempt for that which threatens all I love--that which is within my agency to oppose, that which is, as my niece calls it, "Not fair." When I say I hate this culture, I mean the petri dish we're all in, festering away in the disease that's killing the planet, (and there's simply no positive way to put that one anymore), and I don't mean culture in the classic (and elitist) sense of the term. This, of course, is what makes me the artist I am: Because I love, and because I hate, and because the future is not enough, so that what my life is about is shaping a sustainable culture, and because I know in my heart that the only answer really is the present, [even if, at the same time, I know the future I am working for is far too much in the future than I can describe to a five year old] as does the five year old know so dearly about the present...

...As this avalanche of thought crashed through my mind, fully expecting a rumble from my niece in response to my simplistic "in the future" claim, she didn't skip a beat: She sort of growled, and sneered, and with her fingers extended in her own gesticulated passion, sort of like a cat's untrimmed toe-nails, she said loudly,

"the future is just this boring place where they let you do everything and you can't have any fun!!!"

This took my breath away. Knowing I wouldn't remember this exact thing later, I grabbed my pen and paper I always keep in my pocket I don't always have and said, "Hannah--Wait!! Before you say another thing--THAT is one of the coolest things anyone has ever said to me--Can I write it down?"

She said, "Now this is fun. I like this writing things down when I say them--let's do more of that..."



(to hear Roxanne's radio show, go here
To see more of Roxanne's work, go to her online studio here
Her myspace site is http://www.myspace.com/radioroxanne)

My Neglected Blog

It's been a while since I've done a posting. Not that I haven't wanted to express myself online. Used to be that this blog is where I did it.

Ah, times have changed. Blogging is being replaced ... by Facebook!

Yes, I will admit. I am going to be in need of a 12-step program if this continues. I first heard about Facebook down at CFMU, where program director (and who was a volunteer when I was station manager 10-15 years ago) told me that the "kids" got him to sign up. Sign of the times ... both James the PD and I are now old enough to refer to the 20-somethings as "kids". When I was at CFMU I was only in my mid-30s so the age difference didn't seem so great. Now there's no denying it ... we are becoming elders in the world of community radio.

That was a month ago. I didn't even look at Facebook then .. figured it was a fad. And then I got an invitation from my niece Crystal in Kelowna who is 25. Crystal isn't at all what I would call a tech-head. Yet she uses technology in ways that I don't ... and a quick visit with her, her sister and brother shows me new ways of communicating that I hadn't thought of.

So okay, I'm the cool aunt. Better sign up.

And every day I look at my list of friends to make sure it's growing. For a while I was stalled at 38. And I started to get a bit obsessed about it. Come on, I've got more friends than that. And then I would think about my status line Victoria is ... Victoria is ... what? There are people who update their status line by the hour. do they live on line or something? And then there is the optional information ... what do I put under Status ... do I say I'm single? Maybe that sends out the wrong ... or right? .. signal. Or do I ignore the question? Quotes ... what are my favourite quotes .. should it be profound or fun? And then there's the picture .. a lot of people are going to be seeing this (although probably not as many as most Facebookers think. What one shows my best side?

Too many decisions and I haven't even finished my coffee yet. It's getting cold because I am too busy typing. Oh yeah, I gotta get some work done this morning.

What is truly fascinating is to see who signs up and who doesn't. There are some surprises. I look at my friends list just to see who's showing up. What? Him? I thought he was scared of the computer. And some of the ones who seem like they'd be naturals are nowhere to be found.

A couple of observations -- there is an age thing happening. For sure. The friends collections of my younger Facebook friends are a lot bigger than those my own age. Makes me wonder how much of this is a popularity contest. Of course it is. And the updates seem to come minute by minute. My friends who are roughly the same age as me don't change their entries as frequently.

The friends who aren't there tell me a) it's just another gadget they don't have time for and b) they want to protect their privacy. Fair enough. Being a media person who really likes politics, my own perspective is that not being seen is not a good thing. So I realize I'm a much more in-your-face-in-your-ear kind of person than the average person my age.

Inevitably, because I like to ask a lot of questions (and can't help it), I do wonder what this shows about the communications methods and attitudes of people who are younger than me. We do know they don't read in the same way as we did ... small bites rather than novels. And mainstream radio and TV are bemoaning the possibility (probability) they're not going to have any listeners at all once those who are now over 40 die off. They're right ... which is a whole other story.

What this makes me ask, as a communicator, is how to stay relevant as all these changes occur. As I age, am I going to keep communicating the way I always have, using the same old media?

I don't want that. Because it means that I'll only be communicating with people my own age. That for me is the value of learning new technologies like Facebook. And why I'm spending so much time with this thing. Or so I tell myself.

Not just because it's a whole bunch of fun.

Whoops. Gotta go. Haven't checked my Facebook in 15 minutes!

(update: I just checked it out. I am stalled at 53 friends. And that's really only 52 because Simon signed up twice. Come on! I've got more friends than that. And what's with all those question marks where the pictures should be??!!)

Canadian Humour

A friend of mine in the States sent this to me. It was fun to be able to tell her I've flown with Westjet, and yes, the quotes are probably accurate.

FWD: You've got to love the Canadian sense of humor.

West Jet is an Airline with head office situated in Calgary, Alberta.
West Jet airline attendants make an effort to make the in-flight "safety
lecture" and announcements a bit more entertaining.

Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:
On a West Jet flight there is no assigned seating, you just sit where
you want. Passengers were apparently having a hard time choosing, when a
flight attendant announced, "People, people we're not picking out
furniture here, find a seat and get in it!"
___________________________________

On another West Jet Flight with a very "senior" flight attendant crew,
the pilot said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached cruising altitude and
will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to
enhance the appearance of your flight attendants."
____________________________________
On landing, the stewardess said, "Please be sure to take all of your
belongings. If you're going to leave anything, please make sure it's
something we'd like to have."
____________________________________
"There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out
of this airplane."

-----------------------
"Thank you for flying West Jet Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us
the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride."
---------------------------

As the plane landed and was coming to a stop at the Vancouver
airport, a lone voice came over the loudspeaker: "Whoa, big fella. WHOA!"
-------------------------

After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in Ontario, a
flight attendant on a West Jet flight announced, "Please take care when
opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that,
sure as hell everything has shifted."
-----------------------

From a West Jet Airlines employee: "Welcome aboard West Jet Flight 245
to Calgary. To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the
buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you
don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised."
-- -------------------

"In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend
from the ceiling, stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face.
If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before
assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with more than one small child, pick your favorite."
-----------------------

"Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but
we'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember,
nobody loves you, or your money, more than West Jet Airlines."
------------------------

"Your seat cushions can be used for flotation; and in the event of an
emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments."
-----------------------

"As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings.
Anything lef t behind will be distributed evenly among the flight
attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses."
---------------------------

And from the pilot during his welcome message: "West Jet Airlines is
pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in
the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!"
-----------------------------

Heard on West Jet Airlines just after a very hard landing in Edmonton;
The flight attendant came on the intercom and said, "That was quite a
bump, and I know what y'all are thinking. I'm here to tell you it wasn't
the airline's fault, it wasn't the pilot's fault, it wasn't the flight
attendant's fault, it was the asphalt."

------------------------------
Overheard on a West Jet Airlines flight into Regina on a particularly
windy and bumpy day: During the final approach, the Captain was
really having to fight it. After an extremely hard landing, the Flight
Attendant said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Regina. Please remain
in your seats with your seat belts fastened while the Captain taxis what's
left of our airplane to the gate!"

------------------------------
Another flight attendant's comment on a less than perfect landing: "We
ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the
terminal."

---------------------
An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered
his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy which
required the first officer to stand at the door while the Passengers exited,
smile, and give them a "Thanks for flying our airline."
He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking
the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment.
Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking
with a cane. She said, "Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"Why, no, Ma'am," said the pilot. "What is it?"
The little old lady said, "Did we land, or were we shot down?"
-------------------

After a real crusher of a landing in Halifax, the attendant
came on with, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until
Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching
halt against the gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning
bells are silenced, we will open the door and you can pick your way
through the wreckage to the terminal."

-----------------------
Part of a flight attendant's arrival announcement: "We'd like to thank
you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the
insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we
hope you'll think of West Jet Airways."

-----------------------
Heard on a West Jet Airline flight. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish
to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing. If you can
light 'em, you can smoke 'em."

-----------------------
A plane was taking off from the Winnipeg airport. After it reached a
comfortable cruising altitude, the captain made an announcement over the
intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Welcome
to Flight Number 293, nonstop from Winnipeg to Montreal. The weather ahead
is good and, therefore, we should ha have a smooth and uneventful flight.
Now sit back and relax.. OH, MY GOD!"

Silence followed, and after a few minutes, the captain came back on
the intercom and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry if I
scared you earlier. While I was talking to you, the flight attendant
accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee in my lap. You should see the
front of my pants!" A passenger in Coach yelled, "That's nothing. You
should see the back of mine!"

Another favourite picture

In the final stages of winter (supposed to be spring, but it's still snowing), it's so nice to go back to my India/Nepal/Sri Lanka pictures and feel the warmth.

Different pictures jump out at me at different times. I have just rediscovered this one. I was at the Elephant Orphanage in Sri Lanka and a group of school kids asked if they could take my picture with them. So then I asked one of them to take a picture with my camera. And I just love the way it turned out.

Good Work, Mom and Dad!

Today is my parents 52nd anniversary. April 9, 1955 was the day. The place was Ruscom United Church, in a small village (hamlet, really) about 40 kilometers from Windsor. A farming community populated by people who were mostly all related to each other (by marriage, not all by blood). My mom and dad lived only a couple of kilometers from each other but somehow didn't get to know each other until they were teenagers. They met detassling corn, and their first date was at the stock car races.

For fifty two years they've kept it together. Pretty amazing from my vantage point ... I am in the final stages of ending mine after 21 years. I can remember times which were tense, especially when we were teenagers. But they're still together.

And I'm glad. I wouldn't have wanted them to stay together "for the kids" if they weren't happy. But I don't think they stayed together just for us. They did it for them. Which is the way it should be.

Hope you have lots and lots more anniversaries, Mom and Dad.

Love from your five girls,
Marianne, Dianne, Victoria, Lori and Cindy
and your two little girls .. Elizabeth and Emily

(PS - The other people in the picture are my sisters Marianne and Dianne, and my brother in law George. I guess you can tell who my mom and dad are ... this picture was taken on Christmas Day 2006)

Remember This

This from my wonderful friend Angelyn Debord in the mountains of Virginia:

Speak the following lines out loud:

I love everything about me
I love my uncanny beauty and my bewildering pain
I love my hungry soul and my wounded longing
I love my flaws, my fears, and my scary frontiers

I will never forsake, betray, or deceive myself
I will always adore, forgive, and believe in myself
I will never refuse, abandon, or scorn myself
I will always amuse, delight, and redeem myself

Opting back in

Well, I am becoming a member of North American (read:consumer) society again. I now have my own apartment (haven’t moved in yet but that will happen next Monday), I am now typing this as I wait for Cogeco Cable to go through their exceedingly long voicemail message that explains that I am liable for everything and they are liable for nothing. I cannot get exit this message because if I hang up they will not hook up my cable and internet, which makes the fifteen minutes I’ve already been on the phone signing up rather pointless. It is very, very, very boring. So I am updating my blog at the same time.

Living by society’s rules is really complicated. It has been much easier with no home and wandering around from place to place with no bills but my Visa card to pay so that I can do more travelling. I like being a gypsy. I am going to miss it.

Fuck … this message isn’t over yet … pardon my profanity. I don’t like businesses which waste my time like this. I don’t need them to read a whole contract to me OVER THE PHONE!

So I’ve put down the phone and let the recorded message blather on.

Even though I’ve opted back in, I’m still undecided about how much to do it Okay, an apartment for now is the way to go. For now. Until I can establish an intentional community with likeminded people. It will happen but it's a few years off. And I don't know where it's going to be yet. And I have to have communications services. I will have to do that even in my intentional community Shangr-la. Some things are inevitable. But I don’t have to shop at Walmart or at the mall. I don’t have to buy into consumerism to the degree that I used to think I had to.

I’m thinking that I want to buy little, and bank my money for travelling. Forget RRSP’s – at my age it’s not going to do me much good. I was listening to one financial advisor on the radio who pointed out that in order for most Canadians to live the Freedom 55 lifestyle, they’d need at least half a million dollars in RRSPs when they retire. And the average Canadian RRSP savings is $40,000. I think I’m just going to have to take my chances and trust grace and luck to get me through my old age. And thank god people in Ontario don’t have to retire at 65 because I’ll be working until I drop dead.

Update -- Fifteen minutes later. The annoying dial-a-contract message is STILL going. So I hung up. Wonder if they'll tell me I can't have cable now. My god, read me House of Commons proceedings instead. It would be a lot more interesting compared to this. Hope this telecontract thing doesn’t become a trend. If the pollution and wars don’t get us, these big corporations are going to bore us to death.

Tonight’s contacts with the big wide world of North American commerce has reaffirmed something that I already knew … that I don’t want to deal with big corporations any more and will do business with ordinary people except in cases where I can’t avoid it.

(I am unusually crabby today … probably because I woke up annoyed because my body was telling me it was 8:00 and the clock said it was already 9. I'm also bitchy because somebody decided to make daylight savings time happen 3 weeks early. Daylight savings time is not supposed to start when the snow is still on the ground. It ain't natural)

I really must be careful …. this last 18 months has been a welcome holiday from frustration and cynicism. The challenge is to maintain that spirit … and to discover how I can opt out spiritually while opting in to those things that I need – like services of big companies that do phones, internet and rent apartments. And to enjoy the good things about Western society without letting the not-so-good things drag me down.

It's truly a spiritual challenge, it is.

Media with a Forgiving Mind ..

I have referred several times in this blog about the Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma. That's because it's an amazing collection of stuff about dealing with the emotional content of our work, both in terms of the people we write about and also ourselves.

There is an article I found that is especially resonant with me. It's all about Trauma and Forgiveness, written by BBC Reporter Jennifer Glasse after a workshop on trauma and forgiveness, done by Robin Shohet and Ben Fuchs of the Findhorn Foundation (which is a website you should also check out).

Ms. Glasse starts out being skeptical, but then starts to challenge her own definition of forgiveness. And she made some really good discoveries about herself and her profession.

Well worth a look.

A Splash of Colour

Oh, this page of my blog is looking way too grey .. such is February in Canada. So here's another view ... the Malabar coast on the west side of India with waves rolling in from Africa. It would be nice to be there today, sitting in the sun and looking up at the tall, tall coconut trees.

The History of Podsafe Music

I am finishing my doc about Indian community radio and have a few segments that are naked of background sound. So I did a search for Indian Podsafe Music. Didn't find much except for one enterprising rock band named Parlay who are everywhere in Google search land.

I did find a reallllllly funny site that you have to see called The History of Podsafe Music

This is the comment which instigated the item coming up in Google:



"The first evidence of podsafe music was discovered in this cave drawing in central India. It depicts the mirth and disdain of the fertility goddess after attending a show by an unsigned band. Squirting milk from her breasts was not only a prehistoric version of throwing a tomato, but also indicated the band members' inability to get women."

Click on the site to get the full effect. And the other four significant eras of podcast history.

Going Home to Hamilton

I'm slowly making my way back to Hamilton. It's taken me a long time to figure out where I wanted to be. Last year at this time, I figured I was gone for good. I'm in Toronto right now but watching the apartment ads every day to find a place to call home.

Most of my friends are supportive of my decision to go back, and a couple of them are not. The ones who aren't are former Hamiltonians themselves who have left and I guess didn't have that great an experience when they were there.

That's not me, though. I love Hamilton. When I first moved there is 1992 to work at CFMU (McMaster University's radio station), no less than 6 people in the first week called me and said "hi, remember me?" They were all people who I had known in other cities. And I have always found it so easy to make friends in Hamilton. Something about the city .... I just like being there.

It's also about the character of the town. There are ghosts, there is mafia and biker gangs. There are people with PhD's and salt of the earth folks who are good people who just want to make a little bit of difference in the world.

Hamilton's different from Toronto, Vancouver and Ottawa. Because there's no real upper crust in Hamilton (well, okay, now that Ancaster is part of Hamilton, there are a few people who think they're upper crust. But that doesn't go very far downtown.

In terms of the work I do, it's a great city. Cities that don't see the need to change don't have much use for social change work. In Hamilton, everybody knows that a lot has to change. And while some would look at the problems of poverty as an insurmountable problem, I see it as an indication that there is so much useful work that can be done here.

Not that there isn't work to be done in every city ... but it is harder to do social change work in cities that don't want to face the idea that changes are needed. The prettier and richer the city, I find, the harder it is for the people who live there to look beyond the facade. In Hamilton, a lot of people are open to new ideas. Not everybody of course, but we voted him out last time around.

So I am going back to the city with more waterfalls than anywhere else in North America. And more pitbulls than any other city in North America. And a beautiful harbour. And steel mills that are both scary and beautiful at the same time.

I think that's a good way to describe Hamilton ... scary and beautiful at the same time. And real down to earth and a great place to live.

Documentary Poetry

I have been looking for a while for a term that describes the kind of poetry I do .. whereby I combine subjective writing with sounds gathered from the real world. The term I came up with was "documentary poetry" ... and to see if anybody else thought of this genre, I turned to my good friend Google.

I was really excited to find out that it is a term used (and perhaps invented) by Canadian poet Dorothy Livesay. I'm glad to see my work fits into some kind of historical context, and I am also really happy that a poet who I admire and respect and I have something in common. I think we have a lot in common, actually, since she writes from her roots as an activist.

This from the Athabasca University website:

"She offered a theory that Canadian literature favoured a mode she called “documentary poetry,” long narrative poems that comment on particular social topics and that “are a conscious attempt to create a dialectic between the objective facts and the subjective feelings of the poet” (“The Documentary Poem: A Canadian Genre,” 267). Call My People Home (1950)--about the mistreatment of Japanese Canadians during the Second World War--and The Documentaries (1968) are examples of her own work in this genre. In the same vein, Right Hand Left Hand (1977), her remarkable autobiography about her life of activism in the 1930s, combines retrospective commentary with period photographs, newspaper articles, poetry, drama, and unedited letters that emphasizes the integration of the individual history with social history. She also believed in the close affinity between poetry and music. ( Vivian Zenari )

"A Model Wife and Mother"

I love this statue.

I'm sure you all know who this is. If not, let me give you a clue ... one of the reasons why I love this statue is because of her name. When I was in India, a number of people said to me "oh, Victoria, you have a very important name". And yes, I guess it is. After all, she was the first and only Empress of India.

The most amazing thing about this statue to me is the inscription:

VICTORIA
QUEEN AND EMPRESS
A MODEL WIFE AND MOTHER

It was dedicated to the Queen by the women of Hamilton in the early part of the century.

Queen and Empress --- yes.

But ... a model wife and mother ????

I guess it depends which model you're looking at. Model wife she was. She loved Prince Albert. In every sense of the word. Prince Albert, despite being regarded as her social inferior, was her closest advisor. When he died, she went into mourning and wore black for the rest of her life. By all reports, she was a woman deeply in love and a woman who deeply loved.

As far as the Model Mother part ... by all reports, that's stretching it quite a bit. She was the mother of nine children, but allegedly thought the act of childbirth and all things associated with it to be deeply disgusting. And she once referred to babies as being ungainly as little frogs. Deeply maternal she was not. Allegedly, anyway.

All that aside, what I find ironic about this statue is the juxtaposition of those words, Empress, Queen, Wife, Mother. It makes me wonder what statement was being made about ideal womanhood. Was it not enough to be Queen and Empress?

Or maybe it was an attempt to humanize her and minimize the distance between her and her loyal subjects in Hamilton?

Well, without reading too deeply into it, the statue just plain makes me smile. Partly because of the absurdity of it, partly because it's so damn dramatic ... I wouldn't describe her face as severe, but she is not a woman to be trifled with. "Mom" is not the word which comes to mind when gazing upward at this woman with sceptre in hand and a lion guarding her feet.

I like it because it's a great piece of art, a great piece of history. With a really great name.

In the Middle of Nowhere

Sometimes I google a phrase and see what comes up. Today I googled the phrase "staying with pain" .. tough day today. And I landed upon a page called Electronic Iraq and I found these words by the late Tom Fox, one of the men from the Christian Peacekeeping Team who was imprisoned along with Jim Loney and Harmeet Singh .. they were freed but Tom Fox didn't make it out.

There are a lot of brave words here, and also words which express the difficulties of peacemaking work. Amazing words from an amazing man ...

"The ability to feel the pain of another human being is central to any kind of peacemaking work. But this compassion is fraught with peril. A person can experience a feeling of being overwhelmed. Or a feeling of rage and desire for revenge. Or a desire to move away from the pain. Or a sense of numbness that can deaden the ability to feel anything at all.

"How do I stay with the pain and suffering and not be overwhelmed? How do I resist the welling up of rage towards the perpetrators of violence? How do I keep from disconnecting from or becoming numb to the pain?

"After eight months with CPT, I am no clearer than I when I began. In fact I have to struggle harder and harder each day against my desire to move away or become numb. Simply staying with the pain of others doesn't seem to create any healing or transformation. Yet there seems to be no other first step into the realm of compassion than to not step away."

Here, Fox quotes Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron, from her book The Places that Scare You: "Becoming intimate with the queasy feeling of being in the middle of nowhere makes our hearts more tender. When we are brave enough to stay in the nowhere place then compassion arises spontaneously."

Fox adds: "Being in the middle of nowhere really does create a very queasy feeling and yet so many spiritual teachers say it is the only authentic place to be. Not staking out any ground for myself creates the possibility of standing with anyone. The middle of nowhere is the one place where compassion can be discovered. The constant challenge is recognizing that my true country of origin is the middle of nowhere."

Hope that helps when you're wonder if you're standing in the middle of nowhere. Helps me. my struggle is small compared to his was, yet his words resonate ... which means his words still live and have power.

Berlin, are you there .. Prague .. come in ...

I spent the afternoon today in a radio studio celebrating Art's Birthday. Art who? ART. With a capital A. As in AHHT ... dahling.

My job was to search the internet and pull audio clips from all the Art's Birthday celebrations from around the world. Which would mean mostly Canada and Europe. Japan had a live netcast too, but their day was all finished by the time we got to the station. That international date line thing, you know.

I did a lot of listening today and a lot of surfing too. The best thing about it was that this was the first time I've used internet broadcasts as a programming tool. And I learned a lot.

First of all, you have to get up early in the morning to grab your material because by the time the afternoon rolls around, the net gets very congested and slow. And some streams don't even appear at all ... we techologically based artists are pretty good at this stuff but we're not infallible. I never could get Prague to come in.

And speaking of Prague, I sure wish those Czechs would put the little loudspeaker symbol on their web page so I don't have to figure out what the word "Listen" is in Czech. Some of these web masters make it awfully hard to figure things out. Respect the conventions of UWL, (Universal Web Language), folks.

I also realized that you don't ever plan a whole afternoon on live netcasts. Or, if you do, you always have a good backup plan in case Prague doesn't show up for your party either.

The other things I learned were about Art himself (who decided that Art was a guy, anyway?) After listening to a whole bunch of artists paying homage to their master, I have come up with the conclusion that Art is a pretty cool guy. Damn cold, as a matter of fact (actually, it's a matter of perception, not fact).

Art is a real machine these days. All those computer generated sounds. Beeps, squawks, machine sounds. So I have to ask, where is the humanity in all the beep squawking that is going in galleries these days? Where are the human voices? Where are the real world sounds? Where is the stuff that stirs the soul?

I enjoyed the workout that the left side of my brain got today, though. I'll visit my right brain again tomorrow and be glad that for me, Art's a whole lot softer than all that.

If you want to listen to some Art's Birthday celebrations yourself, click here.

P.S. the guy with the cake above is Pierre Filliou, the guy who decided over a hundred years ago that Art's Birthday should be celebrated. He was French. You probably figured that out ....

So Long, Catfish John

I just got the very sad news that Catfish John, co-host of the Sunnyside Up Gospel Hour at WMMT is no longer with us.

The news was emailed to me via L'il Willard of the Bluegrass Express Show, also from WMMT. I met Catfish Jean and Catfish John when Barry and I were living down in Kentucky. Barry was managing the radio station, I was taking a break from working and learning about the things I missed while I was working.

WMMT had a rule ... you could sing about God, but no preachin' and no prayin'. The Catfishes walked that line really closely. Devout Christians themselves, but they appreciated the station and its rules. And in all of the time I've talked to them, not once did they say anything that expressed anything other than love and respect for other people. Truly a model that other Christians would do well to follow.

One especially memorable day, we went to the home of two WMMT folks who could no longer do a show. Mallie and Levie Gross were their names. So they did their weekly radio program of gospel tunes with a guitar, a voice and a really tinny Sears tape recorder and microphone that no broadcast professional would ever let near a radio station. They did their show anyway and it was broadcast, every week. And what it lacked in depth of sound, they made up for in depth of spirit. We went up to Levi and Mallie's house, along with Catfish Jean and Catfish John, who played in the ensemble on his slide dobro. He was a hell of a (whoops ... I meant "heck of a") good musician.

I'm glad I still have the recording that I made of that day, and I will listen to it and think of Catfish John. I am sure Catfish Jean's heart is really breakin' right now. But her faith is so strong that I don't believe she doubts for a minute that there is a heaven, and that Catfish John will be waiting for her when she gets there.

Reminds me of a song I learned when I was in Appalachia:

"I'll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan
I'll be waiting drawing pictures in the sand
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout
And I'll come running through the shallow waters reaching for your hand".

Alive and Well in Cabbagetown

I know. I've been neglecting my blog. So have you .. not a comment from anybody in over a month. (bitch, bitch, bitch) Guess I have to go to Antarctica to get your attention.

I am nicely settling for five weeks at a generous friend's home in Cabbagetown. I am housesitting while she is away. For those of you not familiar with Toronto, Centre of the Universe, Cabbagetown is in the centre of Toronto, not far from Yonge Street, the longest street in the world (Toronto claims that Yonge Street goes all the way up to Timmins or something like that. Which is stretching it, but Toronto and Texas have a lot in common because both places are really invested in the suffix "est" .. as in biggest, longest, smartest (okay, so Texas doesn't usually claim that one).

I like Toronto. And I don't like Toronto. Just like all the other Canadians, I have an ambivalent relationship with Hogtown (Hogtown is the alternate name for the city. Cabbagetown is a neighbourhood within Hogtown). Named because it used to be the hog slaughtering capital of Ontario. And because the people in my neighbourhood were so poor they had to eat cabbages.

I like the neighbourhood. It's a place where gentrification started to take hold about 20 years ago and then slowed down. Can't say it stopped entirely, but it's a mixed neighbourhood which has both very affluent people and also the Regent Park Community Housing Neighbourhood (aka The Projects). It's a neighbourhood where the day old vegetables don't stay on the clear out rack for long in the No Frills Grocery store, which is three doors down from the shop with the high end expensive cheeses.

Much to my surprise, this area has also become a big area in Toronto for Tamil settlement. When I was in Sri Lanka, I heard a lot about the conflict and life in Sri Lanka from the Sinhalese point of view. But I never heard much from Tamils. Likely because I was mostly in Colombo, which is a different part of the country than the area where Tamils live. I went for a walk and discovered a Sri Lankan restaurant which I must check out. And an Indian/Sri Lankan grocery store with a friendly man named Mahindra behind the counter. I told him I'd like to come back and talk to him about what life is like for Tamils in his home country.

I haven't lived in Toronto since 1990, so this is a really great opportunity to take advantage of what the city has to offer. Which is a lot. Come mid-February, I will be back to my old haunts in Hamilton where gentrification is moving even more slowly than here.

Looking forward to it. And in the meantime, really enjoying being here too. There is so much to explore no matter where you are. There is no excuse to be bored in this amazing place called Earth .. no matter which part of it you find yourself in.

Write to me! All this solitude can be too much of a good thing.

Update

Okay, so I'm starting to get "where are you NOW?" messages. So this is a very practical post just for those who want to know and who can't keep track of me (I even have a hard time keeping track of where I am).

Right now I am in Burlington, heading to my parents' place for Christmas week. After a trip back to London to spend New Years Eve with friends and figure out what stuff I need to lug back with me (and exchange clothes .. I am again living with the same 12 items, which is what happens when I am on the road. So I can trade them for some new ones from my suitcase so I won't get bored).

I am now working in a very focussed way to find a new home. In January/February, I will either be in Toronto, house-sitting for a friend, or in Hamilton, staying in the same friend's Hamilton house (she will be away .. still determining if she needs me to house-sit in Toronto. If not, I will be at her place in the Hammer just off of trendy Locke Street. Cool).

My goal is to look for a place in Hamilton for the next little while ... it's a good town, rent is cheap and I have one heck of a great social network. Decided that I don't need to stay away just so that I won't run into any ghosts of my life as it used to be ...

In terms of my longer aspirations, I'm looking for a very creative solution. I am thinking that I want to do more international work, so I would really like to find a low-cost situation where I can just lock up the place for a couple of months when I am away without it costing me a fortune to pay for a place I'm only going to live in some of the time.

Still figuring out new ways to make this happen. Maybe a very compatible shared arrangement? One way or another, I am looking forward to unpacking my kitchen stuff, my pottery, my artworks, my CD's, getting my furniture back from my sister and living a life that's grounded in one place for a while. I need some more of that earth/rock energy. The Air energy has been good but it's time to quit blowing around in the wind quite so much.

Still figuring out the work situation .. I know I can make money writing but do I want the freelance lifestyle? I've been living it now for 8 years and it is starting to wear on me. Then again, it allows me a lot of freedom. So this will take a while to figure out.

I am meeting with my life coach this afternoon -- maybe I'll find some new perspectives on this. Balancing life and art .. always the challenge.

Journalism and Soul

I am a member of the Association of Independents in Radio, a wonderful group of people mostly in the States. The listserve is full of inspirational ideas, tech tips and notes from people who are very supportive of each other. It's wonderful -- if you're a media artist or a journalist, I recommend membership in AIR very highly.

Today, Scott Gurian, an AIR member, posted this quote from Robert Krulwich. Wikipedia describes him this way: "Robert Krulwich is a respected radio and television journalist whose specialty is explaining complex topics in depth. He has done pieces for ABC's Nightline and World News Tonight, PBS's Frontline, NOVA, and NOW with Bill Moyers. He has previously worked for CBS, NPR, and Pacifica. TV Guide called him "the most inventive network reporter in television" and New York Magazine said he's "the man who simplifies without being simple".

He spoke at the Third Coast Festival in Chicago this year.. Scott posted this excerpt and it really spoke to me, so I thought I would reprint it here:

"There is a sense in which every time you choose to do something new, you're gonna be re-born. And if you do this well, each time up... every time you do a new story -- even if it's just going down to do the parade or talk to the mayor or whatever... Each time up, small or large, it's a little challenge. And it asks you to look and listen very, very closely and find the thing that you pick out, that you notice, that bounces out of the situation and hits your heart or your head or makes you angry or makes you sad or makes you suspicious... And everything then becomes very personal.

And if you do this well, even if you're working in an organization which doesn't want you to be personal, which wants you to sound like the others, the secret thing you do is you sound sort of like the others, but you put in a little bit of your heart somewhere in there... just a little. And if it's there, it's like a marker. It's the IOU to your soul. And sometimes they let you sing loudly. And sometimes you have to sing soft. But you keep singing. You never ever stop."

listen to the full speech here:

The link for Third Coast (which has wonderful stuff on it) is www.thirdcoastfestival.org

The Story of the Belly

It is with great joy every week that I receive an email with a picture from my niece Crystal in Kelowna. She and her husband Joel are having their first baby in January, and never has a child been so welcomed into the world.

I (and the rest of her friends and family) have an entire collection of weekly shots of Crystal's belly as it gets larger. Her emails are full of exclamation marks it's clear that she is entirely thrilled about this. Her own private emails to me describe some of the little kicks, flips and turns that the baby makes. In one especially wonderful email, she writes about sitting on the couch and just enjoying feeling the baby sleep.

How does she know the baby's sleeping? Having never carried a baby myself, I have no intuitive sense of this. From what my own mother has said many times to me, it's just something about mothers. They know.

In a world where we hear often about babies who are not wanted, it is a wonderful gift to share with Crystal (and Joel too) as this baby has grown from an idea to the large-and-growing-larger bump on (and an important part of) her mother's body.

Thanks for sharing this, sweet one. And for including us all in the coming of your (and our) new baby.

P.S. - the latest pictures are 33 weeks. The baby is due the end of January.

Come Back Alive

Oh, I'm on a roll today. Something about wanting to write freeform instead of getting down to the business of dubbing, editing and writing stories for editors to pick apart.

Okay, this one post. Then, back to the self-conscious market-driven stuff.

At least my research has been somewhat market-related. I am doing a story on tourism in conflict zones, an offshoot of my incredible time in Kashmir. The story focusses around a wonderful family who owns a tourist houseboat in Srinigar. They have made their living from the tourist trade for three generations. Since 1989, their business has declined because of political instability and many guys with many guns.

In the course of my research, I found a really good website -- it's called Come Back Alive . It is scary, amusing and a wealth of information.

By the way, on the map of the world, Canada is colour-coded as "a vacation with Grandma". It is also described as "one of the least dangerous places in the world". Britain is mostly harmless except for Northern Ireland and the U.S. is listed as one of the world's hotter places in terms of danger (of course the site is written by an American, and we know America has to be the best at everything, even if the category is dangerous places".

Cautionary note of a different kind: Just because it says a place is dangerous, doesn't mean you're going to get killed. I was in three conflict zones and one post-conflict zone and I didn't have any problems at all. And the sad thing to keep in mind is that people in these areas need our help more than ever. Forty percent of the world's economy is tourist-based, and a lot of the places which depend on tourists are politically unstable. Staying away makes it even harder for the people who live there to make a living.

So don't be a chicken-shit about your travel plans either. Be courageous (but not stupid .. that's up to you to decide what that means in terms of your own life.)

Citizen Journalism

I found a phrase today which really sums up my aesthetic and philosophy towards my journalistic work. It came out of a thread on the email list of The Association for Independents in Radio, a very worthwhile producers collective I belong to.

The thread started with a story about ChiTown Daily News, a citizen journalist site in the Chicago area. As usual with groups of professionals, a lot of the discussion revolved around the theme "but they won't do it very well ..." (hence the need for professionals). They've got a point but I always find this kind of discussion to be based in part by at least a teeny bit of self-serving protectionism. This group is less infected by that, so I won't be too hard on them. And the point that "citizen journalism" is often a way for media outlets to get free content (and not have to pay us) is rather bang on.

The aspect of the discussion which caught my attention was phraseology by fellow AIR member Steve Sargeant -- "There's this whole meme being discussed out there about how journalism is no longer a packaged product, instead it's becoming a
conversation."

That is what's best about citizen journalism, and why it's the kind of journalism I am practising more and more. I'd have a lot more to say about this (and I will later) but I've now got to get back to being a traditional journalist -- with much writing and editing to do. Being a "professional" journalist (who works for pay) in addition to being a "citizen journalist" (who works for free).

Some Soul in the Hammer

I am back in Hamilton for a couple of days. Right now I am at my friend Laura Hollick's Soul Art Studio in Hamilton Ontario (Hamilton is known as "The Hammer" for those who are wondering about the reference in the title of this post).

It's an amazing space with incredible energy. Most of that is because of Laura herself, a dynamic individual with energy that never seems to stop. Though the location helps too -- her studio is on the second floor with lots of windows, looking out at Hamilton Harbour and the train yards. It's also one of my favourite places to soundwalk. I woke up this morning to a minimalist soundscape of a train slowly shuttling out of the yard. Lots of squeals, bumps, frequencies ranging from deep bass to screechy treble.

Right now Laura's studio is full of 7 foot mannequins which she made herself out of paper mache. Her latest project is head dresses -- the mannequins are topped with all kinds of ceremonial garb. Some of the head dresses look like hats you would wear to tea (though not your grandmother's kind of hat). Others are warrior goddess helmets which need to be accompanied by face paint and a costume that says "this woman means business". They are made of feathers, sticks, brooms, beads, jewels ... truly opulent, powerful and designed to bring out many different kinds of spirits.

That's what I love about Laura's work. First of all, there's so MUCH of it. One of my goals is to be at least half as prolific as she is. And most important, it's imbued with spirit, confidence and a deep sense of what's in her own soul.

Another thing Laura does is teach workshops to people on accessing this kind of creativity in themselves. She also does one-on-one coaching where people are encouraged to actually do art along with Laura and find out what's deep inside of themselves.

So go to her webpage. And if you're in the Hamilton area, do one of her workshops or book an hour or two with her. Your emerging soul will thank you!



Laura's Head Dresses

Thanks for reminding me!

I got a comment from a person I didn't even know on my last post. She said "I'd love to be able to travel like that".

In the midst of my resettlement chaos, comments like that are so helpful. So many people have said to me in the past couple of years "I would love to live your life". It's a reminder that yes, it's pretty damn good. And I have a lot to be thankful for.

Making room in one's life for gratitude is becoming increasingly important to me. It would be very easy (especially right now) for me to miss my old life ... the house, the marriage, the dog, my garden. Yet I also have to ask, which would I rather have, then or now?

In times when things aren't coming together as quickly as I would like, it's easy to wish that I could have my old life back. But it's so much better now. Not easier by a long shot, but there is now so much more scope for change.

I said in yesterday's post that I both love and loathe times of flux. I loathe it because it's just so unsettled ... no easy answers are falling into my lap. Oh, but the possibilities ... it's the feeling of wide open spaces (there's a Dixie Chicks song about that). Not being hemmed in. Expansiveness.

So thank you for reminding me that I love my life. Despite, and sometimes because of the chaos.

December newsletter

Every once and a while I send out a general letter to all my friends. I decided to start posting them here because they express a lot about the condition of my life at the particular moment I write it.

Hi friends ... so many people have been asking "so where are you?" So here's where I am:

I've been back from Asia for a month now. Finally over jet lag. Been back in Ontario fora little over two weeks. I think I sleepwalked throughout the 10 days I was in Vancouver.

Ontario was (is) a tough landing. Mostly because I have decided that my travellin' daysare over for a while and it's time to get down to the business of setting up a home,getting a job and behaving like normal people do (made more complicated by the fact thatI've never known what 'normal' looks like and still don't ...) Still in the midst of bigtransitions and trying to be comfortable living in a state of flux ... a condition that Iboth love and loathe at the same time. I'd get terribly bored if things didn't constantly change, but in recent years it's been just a little excessive even for me.

For the next few months I am staying with a wonderful friend in London Ontario, her husband and two daughters (my friend's name also happens to be Victoria ... gets really confusing when the phone rings and somebody asks for one of us .. "do you want to talk to Victoria or Victoria"?)

Over the long term, I'm pretty flexible about where I'll eventually end up living .. so if you any of you have any hot job tips, do let me know. Preferably in communications, community development or social justice work but any and all jobs will be considered. I'm getting very weary of the short contract grind, so am thinking it is time for a career shift. Into what ... ?? the million dollar question.

Right now I'm mostly concentrating on getting my post-travel stories done ... now that I'm a little less tired I am starting to think about new angles, new places to approach and new styles of writing and producing. I think I've been locked into the same way of working for a while so it's time to shift gears there too.

Our podcast series "The Green Planet Monitor" will be launched on January 8th. I likely will have some of my stories on the first editions, so please do tune in. I'll send details later, as well as updates on where my other stories finally land. On my own podcast, The House of Sound and Story, for starters.

This will also be my Christmas message. Wish I could be with each and every one of you. When I look at all the joys of my life, I think about all the amazingly wonderful people who want to share this journey with me.

Adeste Fidelis and Peace on Earth
Victoria

First Snowfall

This statue of the Buddha is like many others I saw in Sri Lanka. But the setting is so much different .. I took this picture last summer at Mary Atkinson's in Windsor in the middle of last winter.

Instead of coconut palm trees and lush post-monsoon greenery, all is grey and brown.

That's what Canada is like for a lot of the year. And as I watched the snow flurry around this morning, I thought, that's okay with me.

I need seasons. I remember a soundscape artist saying once "it must be nice to have a time of silence and quiet. In tropical countries, you never get a time to rest".

I think I understand what he means. I sensed a correlation between temperament and climate ... nothing ever seems to slow down in the heat of South Asia.

Now, back in Ontario, I am slowing down too. My friend in London, with whom I am staying , was commenting that I am still in the "five days and gotta move on" rhythm of life. She's got a point ... because I have been travelling so much over the past year, it's hard to stay in one place. Yet I know that's what I have to do because it's time to find a job and start to live like a normal person again.

Though I don't even know what 'normal" is ... what used to be normal isn't anymore. Lots of adjustments still to come. So I'm trying to learn from the Buddha what it means to be detached from results, from expectations and hence, from suffering.

Doesn't come easy .. nor does it come easy to sit in the silence of winter after the heat of the blazing hot sun. Got to say though, the silence is wonderful.

Reflections from a Distance

And what a distance it is. I can understand culture shock on the way into a new culture. But coming back into your own culture after being away? Seems like it should be easy.

Vancouver was easy. Then again, I was hardly awake for ten days after landing. Then I got slam-dunked back into Ontario, and real life the way I used to know it. First there were the obvious things ... looking at my bank account (yeow!), realizing I had to find a job, wondering where I am going to live, things like that. In otherwords, real life all over again. The way I used to know it.

But wait a minute. I've changed, haven't I? What about all those sparkling new insights, those aha! moments where everything made sense? Or didn't make sense but I learned to make sense of it anyway? What about all those things I learned about myself about peace, about lovingkindness, about generosity towards other people, about seeing, smelling, hearing and tasting and believing I would never ever experience the world the same way ever again?

And I realize, I'm not relating to the world in exactly the same way as I did. So yes, the goal of learning and growing and changing has been accomplished. Except now things seem a lot harder. The number of times I have asked people, so what's new, and they reply in a monotone voice "same old, same old", and I find myself thinking "but how can it be same old, same old.? Everything is new. Every day. Can't you see that?"

Well, no, maybe not everybody can. Just like there have been so many times in my life when my answer might have been "same old, same old" too. And I promise myself never ever to give that response again. But will I? Can I keep this up .. the feeling that everything is wonderous, new and exciting? That even when things are bad, they are still so, so good?

I don't know .. all I know is that for now, things have changed. And yes, I'm back in the middle of some of the same old crap that bogged me down in the past. But I know it doesn't have to now if I don't want it to.

More reflections on culture shock and culture change in my next post. Gotta help unload groceries.

By popular request

A few of you have asked for more photos. Here are a few of my favourites. Explanation: When someone asks you "do you want to pet my monkey?", the answer is no. For many reasons. The cow is a very cool animal who I met while we were both looking at the shrine to Shiva, the creator/destroyer, in the Holy City of Hardwar.

The Truth about Jetlag

Yes, it really does exist. I am living proof.

It wasn't a problem for me when I got to Delhi. I'm guessing that's because I didn't have the luxury of being able to sleep for days. Being in a strange place, it's not a good idea to walk around half asleep. So I didn't.

Coming back is a whole other thing. The first two days I was my usual energetic self (though in retrospect, I think I might have been my hyper-energetic self). On Sunday, two days after my return, my friend who I am staying with told me I was really acting spacey. Like coming into a room and just standing there staring.

Yesterday (Tuesday) was the worst day of all. I woke up at 4 am, as usual this week. I read for a while then went back to sleep. For a couple of hours. Except that it was for more than a couple of hours. I woke up at 4:30 pm .. 12 hours later and in just enough time to see the sun go down.

I was starting to get really bothered by this. Because I really DO want to wake up and I also have three stories I have to work on. And, I was starting to feel like this is really abnormal and maybe I got bit by some bug over there that makes you space out and do nothing but sleep.

So I checked out Jetlag on the internet. And I found out:

* it is worse going from east to west (which I did) than west to east. Which is partially the reason why I could stay awake in India. There is a complicated reason for it, but in my addled brain state I can't express what it is
* jetlag is a physical condition, not just a psychological one. It has to do with our Circadian rhythms, the biologically programmed system to synchronize our body with the rhythms of the day. It is intimately tied into sunlight.
* jetlag is especially of concern to sports teams. If I was a betting kind of gal, I'd take a look at which team has had to come the furthest in an easterly direction and bet on the other team.
* I should be more patient with myself because it can take up to one day per time zone crossed to get back in synch again. There are about 12 hours between here and India. And 14 between Delhi and Toronto, so I may have a few more spaced-out days coming yet. It's only day 5 of my return.

And I'm going back to Ontario on Monday. Another three times zones to work through my system.

It's 8 am and I am awake now. For how long, I can only guess ... oh well, that's what I get for wanting to go zooming around in a tin can 35,000 feet in the air. Ain't natural, y'know ...

Worth A Thousand Words

Well folks, I am back on Terra Firma Canadien. And I do declare it's good
to be back.

I landed in Vancouver at 12:25 today, right after lunch. That was after
leaving Hong Kong at 4:45 pm on the same day. So if you only go by what the clock says, I left Hong Kong four hours after I got to Vancouver. I still don't know what day it is .. all I know is that I got on a plane in Colombo, Sri Lanka at 2:30 am a couple of days ago, spent another 7 hours on a plane to Hong Kong, then boarded another plane for Vancouver which took another 12 hours. All in all I figure I have gone almost 40 hours with no sleep except for the nod-offs I could get sleeping curled up in a little ball on 2 airline seats (it wasn't a full flight, so at least I didn't have to share a seat).

So now it is 12:31 at night and my body is telling me it's the middle of
the day. Which is what it would be on the other side of the world. Who knows how long it will take me to readjust to Canadian time... All I know is, it sure felt good to have a bath (no bathtubs over there) and to lie flat in a comfortable bed for a few hours).

And now ...

I have so many reflections, so many things to digest. All in all, it was
a wonderful trip. Very challenging too, but challenging in a very good way. I feel
like I have received a whole new knowledge of the world that I didn't have before. As I write and compose my radio stories (which is the big job now), I will share more of my perspectives.

So now I am in Vancouver, planning to stay here for about 10 days, then catch a plane back to southern Ontario (cheap Air Canada fares right now). I am figuring on
being back somewhere around Nov. 13, and have work to do and friends to visit in
the Hamilton-London-Windsor corridor. Then I think I'll spend the winter in
the northland at my parents' place zipping around on the snowmobile -- I have always wanted to spend a few winter months up there so it's a good place to be while I work on my radio works and my book.

All this is subject to change, of course. Because that's the story of my life.

Before I sign off this last post of my epic adventure, I need to say a
big, big, huge thanks to my wonderful friend and production partner Dave Kattenburg. I wouldn't have done this trip if Dave hadn't given me the gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) push and said "no, really, Victoria, you can do this. You have to do this". And was also there for me every step of the way. Some of my favourite moments .. hearing his voice all the way from Canada when he called me in Kashmir, which was again, a great experience but an intense one because Kashmir is usually known as one of the most intransigent conflict zones in the world. I really needed his reassuring words right about that point). And then in the airport in Hong Kong today (yesterday? What day was it?") ... I found an internet cafe and was sending emails out ... Dave appeared and said "hey, I'm on-line. Let's chat." We sent about eight emails back and forth to each other in the space of a half an hour, and it was almost like we were sitting next to each other talking face to face. From half a world away. Amazing. So thanks, my pal, my buddy, my friend, for creating this opportunity for me. You are the best and a friend til the
end of time. And thanks for being our project manager .. it's a pain in the ass job and I'm so glad you're doing it and not me. I'll take my turn next time ...

For the rest of you, thanks for your encouraging words and the emails you
sent and the comments you posted on my blog. Every email from you was that little bit of home that was so welcome. As for the next steps, you can hear the results of all of this (my stories and everybody else's) on The Green Planet Monitor, on-line starting December 1st.

Well, that's it. My adventure is over. It's good to be back.

In good reporter style, here's the official closing tag ...

"From the heart of south Asia and back, this is Victoria Fenner, Small But
Vital Reporter,signing off ..."

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

I came close to a close encounter with the military over this picture. How was I supposed to know there's a military base behind these trees? My tour guide was able to talk our way out of it by using the "dumb tourist" explanation. They did not confiscate my camera, fortunately.


I'm at the Colombo Airport. It's 12:51 AM. My plane leaves at 2:25 AM. Why do they schedule things like this ..???

So I'm bleary right now, and expect I will be downright delirious when I reach Vancouver on Friday (it's Friday here now, but only Thursday for all of you).

After having managed Delhi in the middle of the night in the middle of my delirium, I am sure I can sleepwalk my way through the Vancouver airport.

I'm wondering .. what meal do they serve on the plane at 2:30 am? Breakfast? Supper? And can I get a beer?

More from Hong Kong in about 8 hours time.

Winding Down

Oh Great Temple of the Tooth














Elephants, Elephants everywhere








Not great internet facilities here. So time to come home. I learned the sinhalese word for internet so I could ask for directions. That's hard core, isn't it?

I've decided to move up my return to this week instead of next. Been an amazing time and I am now tired.

Still some stuff to do, two more interviews, a visit to the two temples close to the house where I am staying. Photos, wild sound to gather.

If it sounds like I am running out of words, I am. But very happy, glad to be here for another couple of days and equally glad to be coming home.

land in Vancouver on Friday at 12:25 pm. Funny thing is I leave Hong Kong at 4:45 in the afternoon. So I get back to Vancouver 4 hours before I leave Hong Kong. Nice trick, eh?

I'll send you all a longer email from the Hong Kong airport -- I have a four hour stopover and the internet there is good. So it's a good way of spending the time.

In the meantime, here are a couple of pictures from the Elephant Orphanage in Pinnawala .. my Sri Lankan hosts took me on a trip to the interior, to the city of Kandy. We went to the Elephant Orphanage, to a tea plantation and museum, and then the great Buddhist Temple of the Tooth (there is a tooth of the Buddha interred in the temple, snatched from his funeral pyre in India and then smuggled into Sri Lanka in the hair of a princess). The temple was amazingly beautiful .. I also am attaching a picture. Exterior only .. photos inside not allowed unless you pay them a lot of money.

Not a Tiger to be Found

One of the many shrines to the Buddha. This one is across the road from the place where I am staying.


I am here in Sri Lanka. That's right .. no tigers, either the kind with guns or the kind with sabre teeth. I am fine .. this is probably one of the best times to be in Sri Lanka because both the government side and the Tamil Tigers are in Geneva for peace talks. So hopefully the peace will last. Even if it doesn't, neither side is likely to do anything drastic with the eyes of the world upon them.

I am safe and happy at the home of Dr. Palathiratne and his family in Moratuwa, just a bit south of Colombo. Right now I am in town with Mr. Dekom, the cook and servant of the family. His job is mostly to make sure that I don't get lost or hit by a car while the family is at work. Mr. Dekom speaks practically no English and I speak absolutely no Singhalese, so communication is interesting.

The Palathiratnes have a couple of busy days so I am mostly doing work at home on my stories. On Saturday they are taking me around and showing me the sights of the area. They have a very comfortable house and I am feeling very good about being here.

Sri Lanka has a much different feeling than India, despite it being so close. I will expound upon it when I get home and have a chance to digest it all. It is very beautiful here. Very green. The monsoons haven't ended yet, so we do get rain at night. The tsunami actually came this far up the west coast .. I had no idea it came up this far. People are still talking about it. The newspapers are very good here ... one of the themes that is coming up on a regular basis is the "lavish" lifestyles of the international aid workers who come here. Much to think about.

Email access isn't as plentiful here as it was in India, so if you don't hear from me in a few days, don't worry about it (this mostly for my mother). If you need to get in touch with me, Dave Kattenburg in Brandon Manitoba has my phone number here.

I Love Kerala

Fisherman hauling in the nets on Kovallam Beach

Here I am in an internet cafe at the Trivandrum Airport. This is the first airport in India that has an internet cafe. So it earns big points in my books. It's also the shiniest and most modern of the airports I've been in. The takeoff, I have been told, will be spectacular ... it's like Vancouver airport. It's right next to the sea and the end of the runway is the end of the land.

What an amazing time I have had here. I do think that, of all the destinations in India, this is the one place where North Americans can come and not have to do TOO much adjusting. I used to be quite critical of people who travelled to a foreign country and then needed to stay in a Western style resort. Now I am realizing that there is something to be said for it .. when you're encountering a totally new culture, some touchstones with the familiar are a good thing.

So now I am off to Sri Lanka. As I went through Indian Customs I briefly got a little pang in my heart, realizing that I really AM leaving. Goes to show that over the past month, I have acclimatized and developed a liking for the place. Got to say, in the first couple of weeks I wasn't sure that was ever going to happen.

Now, Canada seems like an abstraction. I think of being back at my mom and dad's place zipping around on the snowmobile and it seems like something out of a movie.

But I don't have to think about that right now. I am off to a new adventure and two more weeks of fun, adventure and education in the sun.

More from Colombo. Got a plane to catch.

Backwater Kerala

Vinod and his oarsman

Oh, what a day yesterday was! Everybody has been telling me I have to take a trip into the backwaters of Kerala. Yesterday I got to do it, and I can see why.

Best of all, it wasn't a tourist-organized trip. Here's how it happened -- my friend Vinod came and picked me up and took me to his parents' place. On the way there he explained that this wasn't just a social call ... what he wanted to do was introduce me to his parents, take me on a tour of their property and outline the plans they have to make it a tourist resort specializing in yoga, meditation and ayurvedic medicine.

Specifically, he wants a North American investor and he is hoping I can spread the word. Which I am happy to do because it is a phenomenal place. His father owns about 30 acres (which gives you some kind of an idea of their economic status .. in a country like India with over a billion people, that's a big chunk of land).

Right now the property is used as a farm ... coconuts (10,000 of them each year), pepper, cloves and prawns (BIG tiger prawns). The month to be here is April when the prawns are ready to fish and the mangos are in season (no fresh mangos right now, sadly) They also have their own cows to make yogurt and produce milk (Vinod's mother is a really good cook ... we had a traditional Keralan lunch of rice, fish, dhal and two different kinds of vegetables with yogurt. Yum)

Then we went for a walk on the property and they introduced me to all the plants growing there, including wild medicinal herbs. I needed a medicinal herbs sound bite for one of my stories, so this worked out well.

Then we came to the river, the backwater, the canal .. not quite sure what the terminology is. We got in a simple large wooden boat and got the river tour of the property. It was navigated by one of their servants who pushed it along with a long bamboo pole.

We were on the water for about 90 minutes, and Vinod and his father showed me where they were planning to build the tourist huts, and what they would look like (luxury but not out of range of the budget traveller either). There are resorts springing up all around them, but they are mostly of the eco-friendly type, spaced out with lots of room for solitude. In addition to the ponds and backwater canals, they are a very short boat ride from a large freshwater lake, and then the sea. (Vinod's wife Lily's family also owns 20 or so acres of waterfront acreage closer to the ocean that they are also planning to develop. So there seems to be no shortage of land and people who want to do something with it)

His father also told me they are planning to buy a houseboat for longer tours of the backwater. (These are like floating hotels .. there is a large houseboat trade in the Kerala district. I think his main reason for wanting to have a houseboat is to be able to offer the tourists another option).

He also plans to buy an elephant. I asked him how much an elephant would cost, "More than a car?". He said yes, but tourists won't come to India to ride in a car. Well put. There is also ancillary income to be made if you buy an elephant. It can be rented out for weddings and ceremonies at the temple. Besides, I would bet an elephant doesn't depreciate as fast as a car and is not subject to the ups and downs of the oil market.

I told Vinod that I don't have $10,000 to invest right now ... that's all they're looking for. One or two partners at $10,000 apiece would really help them get the work done. They're also putting a lot of their own money in. When you consider that there are people in North America who spend that much on a timeshare, it hardly seems unreasonable. I appreciate their enterprising spirit even if I can't do much to help them out monetarily. But I will show everybody the pictures, spread the word about their enterprise. And at the very least, encourage people to come here when the resort is up and running.

On the way home, Vinod continued the tour by showing me a resort which looks like what they are planning to do. (To get in to see the resort, we pretended I was a North American client who was bringing a group of people to consult with Vinod's computer company).

The resort he showed me was beyond description ... very polished, with thatched roof traditional looking huts with all the modern conveniences, its own private pond and garden, living room and a balcony looking out on the backwater and at the palm trees.

Sure is beautiful here. I leave tomorrow morning for Sri Lanka. They seem to be behaving themselves right now. With peace talks happening in Switzerland on the 28th and 29th, hopefully the tensions will continue to dissipate.

At any rate, I am being met at the airport by someone I know and I will be staying at his home in the suburbs outside of Colombo. What I've learned is that insurgents don't target residential areas. I am feeling much more confident now that I've had a few days in a peaceful place where nobody's fighting with each other (this sure is a fightin' kind of continent, though. I wonder if the heat has anything to do with it?)

Many things to ponder after I get home and start composing my radio pieces and writing my book. Kerala is known locally as "God's Country" and I can see why ... of all the places I've visited, this is the one I've been the most impressed with. It's peaceful, tidy, educated (90% literacy rate, which is even higher than Western standards).

Pretty amazing. I must come back here. Next time, Vinod says, not to work. One week of houseboating, one week at the beach and one week of Ayurvedic (traditional Indian medicine) treatments and yoga. Such bliss.

Coconut Milk .. Right from the Source

Madam, you want to buy ...?

Day three in Trivandrum. Nice to settle in. People are getting to know me here. Which is a mixed blessing ...

I am still getting used to the Indian style of commerce. Business pundits over here and elsewhere say that India is poised to become a major world power. If you think the Americans are aggressive in business, you haven't seen nothing until you've tried (or tried NOT) to do business here.

Every day now, I walk down the street. And shopkeepers say "you will come in Madam?" and I say "not now" and they say "you promise .." and I say "I'm here for another couple of days. Not now". They don't forget what you say to them. You indicate an interest in a green shawl and they have a stack of green shawls to show you next time you come by. It's relentless.

I have figured out what I need to do. I can only handle a couple of hours being out and about and then the constant trying to sell me stuff really stretches my capacity to be compassionate and understanding. So I give myself permission to go back to the hotel and leave it all .. and then an hour later I'm primed and ready to get going again.

I wish I could make some of these people understand that I'm more likely to buy if they just leave me alone. But they don't do things that way so there's no point wishing for it.

Hope I'm not sounding bitchy. I don't mean to ... still having fun, it's still beautiful. I do miss the dispassionate distance of North American society sometimes. But there's another side to that too.

Off to the Trivandrum zoo today. Vinod and his wife Lily are going to show me the sites of the town. It's Diwali right now. Which I have been told is mostly a northern festival but the southerners have been adopting it too. Lots of firecrackers.

More later
V

Mmmmm..

My Masseuse with the wonderful hands
Today is "take care of myself" day. No work. So this morning I went down to the Ayurvedic (traditional Indian medicine) clinic of a friend of my friend Vinod's. What an amazing experience.

I've had massages in Canada before, but this is different. The massuese was a woman named Sunhita .. she did the whole massage dressed in an elegant blue sari. It was a very oily affair ... hot oil drizzled on just about every part of my body. And the oil didn't have that typical North American pharmaceutical smell .. it smelled of green plants, earth and a little bit of woodsmoke.

First she massaged my head. For twenty whole minutes. Around my eyes, my ears, rubbing hot oil in my scalp. Then the shoulders, down the arms. She even massaged each finger and toe and cracked each knuckle. She pinched, lightly slapped, patted and rubbed. All this took placed over 90 minutes or so.

Then she left, leaving me lying on the massage table wondering what to do next. The table was dripping with oil and so was my body. I got up and started towelling off the oil.

Then she came back in with two buckets .. one with a pink kind of soapy water. She said it was Ayurvedic medicine of some kind. Then she had a small bowl of a light brown powder which she mixed with water to make a paste. We went into the shower room. She spread the paste all over my naked body, all over my face and into my hair line. Then she took the pink liquid and washed down my entire body and hair.

It's been a long, long time since anybody else scrubbed me down. It felt really incredible.

Now I am in an internet cafe dodging the early afternoon rain showers. The monsoons are over so they should be subsiding by now. But it still rains in the early afternoon.

I just had a nice lunch of prawn biryani (a rice dish) with cashews and dried fruit with a kind of yogurt dressing. The food all over India (except for the night when I got food poisoning) is great. Food in Kerala is even better. Just spicy enough, and they use lots of coconut milk and fruit.

Better still, it is very hard work to spend more than $5 a day on food here. And even that's a stretch. Most of my meals have topped up at 100 rupees, which is about 2.40 Canadian. And at that, I can't even eat it all.

More later. Still assessing the situation in Sri Lanka and wondering whether to come home early. Don't know what to do ...