Flying out of Africa

I am going back to my journal to the thoughts I wrote while I was in Africa. This entry was written on October 9th on the plane, about 15,000 feet over Kenya.

For the first time (or maybe the second) I am feeling a small rush of emotion. Throughout this trip my emotions have felt damped down a bit. Which is good. I've been able to feel exhiliration but not fear (except a couple of minor times .. like riding on the matatus yesterday ... these crazy overpacked busses that get people around the city. And almost getting lost in a crowd of 50,000 at a presidential rally in Nakuru.)

I am doing much better at travelling -- the culture shock wasn't as great as it was in India last year. And overall, I was much more relaxed.

I was able to do more this time ... last year I never would have had the emotional strength to go into a place like Korogocho. And I don't think I would have been as free and relaxed as I was with the kids at the orphanage.

I also look at how I've changed as a journalist. I'm not as rigid as I used to be, both in my approach to my stories and also how I deal with the people who are in muy stories. I'm much more relaxed about pulling out my mike, and because of this, I've come back with a wider range of material.

This has been a goal of mine for the last 3 years -- to merge the things I've learned about compassion and justice which I've (slowly) learned to apply to myself .. and place my work within that same compassionate framework. Simply put, to get to the point where I am approaching every story from a place of love, passion, equality and fairness. Rather than frustration and anger.

I am sad to see how many journalists approach their work from fear. Which is why we get stories that are often so angry. And how the traditional journalistic method of "objectivity" often serves to distance us from ourselves.

My goal is to integrate the inner self with the outer world in a ways that reflects connection with the world outside of ourselves. Rather than distance and disconnection, which is the state of much contemporary journalism.

Not sure how I am going to do this yet .... not even sure what my new working definitions are. All I know is that there is a different way to write about the world than the one I've be taught ....

Korogocho

It always takes me a long time to process what I've seen and experienced when I've been away.

Of all the places I went during my Africa trip, Korogocho is the one which is occupying most of my thoughts.

I met a wonderful young woman named Leah Murugi at the conference I was at .. The International Association of Women in Radio and Television. Leah was invited to speak because she works at Koch FM, a tiny radio station deep in the heart of the Korogocho Slum. Korogocho is the third largest slum in Nairobi, with half a million people living in a space the size of six city blocks.

We connected because I did a workshop on listening and collecting sounds, and she wanted to use some of my ideas to work with children. I was really happy about this ...

Then she invited me, and my friend Frieda (also from Canada) to visit the radio station and her home. I felt very honoured and privileged ... it must have taken some kind of trust for Leah to have the confidence to say "this is where I live ..." and not be worried about being judged or getting a bad reaction from us.

Also, Leah is a journalist. She understands that things never change unless people are shown the things that need changing. As her bright red Radio Koch T-shirt says:





Since returning home, I have read some articles on the internet by other people who have visited Korogocho. Many of these articles focus on the despair, the filth, the poverty, the City of Nairobi garbage dump that is so close to the slum that it's part of the slum.

I didn't feel this sense of despair, and as I thought about it on the plane (and when I gave myself the space to shed a tear or two), I asked myself why. And I think the reason is that Leah doesn't feel despair. She is a woman who is working to make a difference.

She sings a song, the words of which are "It was not my wish to be born in Korogocho, but God help me to do good while I am here".

She's lived there for all twenty of her young years, but the vision of her life doesn't include living there for the rest of her life. She has a plan .. to go to journalism school and get a job to move her, her mother and her sister out of the slum. I believe she will do it.

That's why I didn't feel hopeless. Though I do feel sadness for the children without adequate health care who are fighting worse germs than any of us ever will. For the friendly boys we met who Leah told us were high on glue ... for the people who don't have the hope they will ever get out of there.

But it's too much to think about all at once. Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, they say. And Leah is one bright little candle ...

And here's the front side of Leah's T-shirt, and Leah's smiling, beautiful face:

Safari Trips and Tricks

Can you see the leopard?

It's 4:15 am and I am slowly getting over jetlag. Awake again but I am starting to believe I am in Canada and that it's really 4:15 am.

So, while I sit here awake, I thought I would add a few notes about the FUN part of being in Africa. Because I did take some time to play tourist in the midst of all the hard work of discovering some of the more weighty issues.

Tip #1 - Kenya is incredible safari-land. You can see all the "big six" animals here -- lion, rhino, elephant, water buffalo, giraffe and wildebeest (great name, wildebeest, isn't it?).

Tip #2 - bring a camera with a good zoom. That's why you might be having a hard time seeing that there really is a leopard in the tree in the photo above. He's there really -- draped out across the top of the branch like a rug.

Tip #3 - if you want to see lions, you have to get up very early in the morning. The only lion I saw when I was there was bronze and on the front lawn of the hotel. But I saw every other major African animal (except elephants because I was in the north where elephants are not indigenous. They could import them but they will wreck the forest because they'll eat everything in sight. So you have to go south of Nairobi if you want to see elephants too.)

Tip #4 - Go to Masaii Mara. Especially September, because that's the month when the migration of hundreds of thousands of zebras and wildebeests migrate. The big cats follow them in search of lunch. I didn't get to Masaii Mara but will the next time.

Tip #5 - hire a tour company. Don't do it yourself. Hiring a tour company can result in overall savings and you will have a knowledgeable guide to tell you what you're looking at.

Tip #6 - book with Planet Safari Adventures. This company is owned by James and Lucy, who are the friends I met when I was over there. In addition to providing good trips that are on the lower end of the cost scale, they own their own camp in Masaii Mara. And they need the business -- they feed, clothe, house and educate 74 orphans. And they have 4 kids of their own. That's a lot of kids. They are good, good people and will show you an amazing time. You can also ask them to visit the children's home for an African experience that will transform your soul. Their website is www.planetkenyasafaris.com

Tip #7 - If you want to see Mount Kilimanjaro, go to Amboseli National Park, southeast of Nairobi. Kilimanjaro is in Tanzania, but it is a stunning backdrop to Amboseli.

Tip #8 - You can also book trips to neighbouring Uganda and Tanzania from Nairobi. You won't want to go to the other neighbouring countries .. or if you do, it's likely not a good idea. Bordering Kenya to the north are Somalia -- many refugee camps on the border -- the only way to get in is to fly. Ethiopia -- I think Ethiopia is more politically stable than it was a few years ago. But still not a good idea. And Sudan .. and we all know about the problems there right now. Hopefully this will clear up in upcoming years so that it's a safer tourist option.

Tip #9 - you can also go to Mombasa, which is on the sea. Didn't make it there but since it's right on the equator I am sure the seascapes are quite wonderful.

Kenya isn't one of the cheapest African countries (South Africa is cheaper) but what's good about it is that they know how the tourist business works. You will be well provided for -- I stayed in five star hotels, people's homes and also a budget hotel. All were very good experiences, so there are lots of ways to have a vacation that doesn't cost a lot.

Community-based tourism (which is mostly what I do when I'm on vacation) is also a growing trend. That's where you stay in people's homes. There are companies that organize these kinds of trips .. the advantage of this method is that the money goes directly back into communities. And you get to be up close and personal with the people and the lifestyle.

I'd suggest combining a few days of community-based tourism with days in a resort or western hotel. That's what I did ... because all that learning and socializing can be exhausting. It's a good balance between comfort and education.


And I almost forgot .. most people will be very happy if you take your picture. The Masaii, on the other hand, expect to be paid. Not unreasonable ... after all, we should all be entitled to own our own image ...

Journal Reflections -- Child's Hope Home Saturday Oct. 6th

The kindergarten class at the Child's Hope Home

Over the next couple of weeks I am going to be posting some of my reflections that I captured in my journal -- this is one of them

I am in a monk's cell of a hotel room in Nakuru, after a long day at a political rally for the president of Kenya. Much more about elections and the electoral process in one of my next journal entries. For now, I'm thinking about the children at the Njaaga's Hope Child Home, an orphanage for 74 children, funded by my Kenyan friends James (Njaaga) and Lucy. I've been spending the last few days there, and it has been truly memorable.

First thing this morning the children knocked on my door. Constantly from 7 am on with letters to bring back to their sponsors back home, and my two nieces Emily and Elizabeth who sent money over to buy the kids some things that they need. I have been reading through the large stack ... they are sweet, sweet, sweet. What is amazing about these kids is that they are happy, well adjusted and don't carry the kinds of scars and wounds that you often see in children who live in poverty and deprivation.

I am sure they have their sadness too, but their joy is there in much greater measure.

Yesterday I went for a walk to gather water with them. What a job! I still can't understand how they can carry 50(!) pounds of water on their heads! Even the little ones have to go fetch water every day. The home has plumbing but no running water yet, so they have to go to the river and haul it up a steep hill. Even the four year olds do their bit. (I am going to suggest to the people here in Canada who are helping the orphanage financially that our next project should be to raise money to dig the well deeper -- there is a 60 foot well but it's not deep enough to get enough water for all these kids. The plumbing is in, but the well needs to go down another 60 feet. It's attainable ... it will only be $1000 to do it).

I've been spending my time at the home recording the children to do a story for the donors back here. I have captured some great stuff -- first of all, the kids are great singers and they sing all the time. One of the songs they sing the most contains the refrain "Happy, happy, we should be happy". This is the theme I want to use as the central theme.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about that statement. They are living in poverty. Their parents have died. A lot of them will be living a life of poverty that their families have lived. So why SHOULD they be happy?

Not a question they ask themselves. Because they ARE happy, though to Western sensibilities there doesn't seem to be much reason. Washing clothes in the pond (and a dirty pond at that). Having to carry 50 pounds of water .. some of them carry two buckets at a time. No toys. Having to wear the same clothes day after day.

For most of us, this would be a recipe for unhappiness.

But they are happy. So maybe these things don't have much to do with human happiness?

I've been thinking a lot about the difference between "want" and "need". When it comes right down to it, we need only four things -- food, shelter, water and love.

Even health care isn't necessary if all the other three are provided. The need for health care mostly stems from a life out of balance. I realize that this is a broad statement, stemming from my current thinking that a) suffering is inevitable and b) life and death should be allowed to take its own course.

There are many yes-buts to this position, which I even argue with myself over .. for example, it may be "natural" for a certain percentage of woment to die in childbirth. but shouldn't we do everything we can to prevent it? Yes. And I'm sure glad I got a typhoid vaccination before I left Canada.

Even a life in perfect balance won't help you if you're bitten by a malaria-carrying mosquito. A life in balance will help you fend it off better, though.

So okay, my list of needs is now up to five -- food, water, shelter, love and health care.

And what about education? Necessary or not? Back before the world intermingled to the extent it does now, people were well served through traditional education, passed on down through the family and the tribe.

I look at the kids at the Hope Home -- some of them will go on to higher education. Others will stay in the village. So what good is a western-style education to people who never leave the village?

Here, my answer to myself is clear. They wouldn't need "education" in the western sense of the word if they were living in closed situations. But they're not. Even if they have no desire to live anywhere else, the rest of the world will come to them. And they'll be exploited just as they have been in the past. Not just by European interests anymore as in colonial times, but by the economic powers of their own central governments and corporations.

If the people in the villages are not educated, they will not be able to deal with incoming change from a position of empowerment. If these children are educated, they will be able to lead their communities from a position of strength. So I hope some of these children stay in their traditional villages. Because their leadership is needed right here.

No more answers this morning, sad to say. Back later with many more questions.


The traditional village of Kirengiro, near the children's home. Most of the children come from this village and would be raised by their grandmothers if they weren't in the home.

Jambo, Mzungi!

That means "hi, white folks!"

I landed in Toronto about two hours ago and I'm now at my sister Marianne's place in Toronto. The clock says it's 12:45 and my body says it's 9 in the morning. My way of dealing with jet lag is to let whatever time my body says it is be that time. So I have no idea when I am going to sleep and when I am going to wake up.

I am exhaling a huge breath right now, partly from relief that the flight was uneventful and that I'm back home. Also, it's a big sigh of contentment and thankfulness for the absolutely incredible time I had.

(Also a bit of delirium because I feel like I've entered a parallel universe. I am glad to be back in the land of high speed internet and water you can drink straight from the tap).

I will be posting my pictures when I get back to Hamilton tomorrow morning. I am fading fast .. I was going to be philosophical and share all kinds of insights but my confused body is now telling me it is time to go to bed (likely partially because I've had two glasses of wine .. it's also asking me what the hell I'm doing having wine for breakfast!)

So much more to come ... goodnight, good morning or whatever the hell time it is!

Everything I know about Kenya ...

Now that the first rush of activity is subsiding (visas applied for, plane tickets book
ed etc), I can get down to the business of figuring out just where I am going.

Here's what I know about Kenya/Nairobi:
- it's on the east coast of Africa
- it was colonized by the British (they were the main ones, I'm sure there were others)
- Nairobi is a major United Nations centre
- Nairobi is in the centre of the country
- Kenya is not a great place if you're a vegetarian -- the diet is major carnivorous
- there are giraffes, elephants and lions there (though not in the middle of the city, one would hope)
- it's a major transportation hub in Africa -- but Air Canada doesn't fly there. So Sir Richard Branson is getting me there (Virgin Atlantic)
- I will be staying at either the Hotel La Mada or the Kenya Institute of Monetary Studies
- both places have a pool
- the temperature is around 20 degrees this time of year, so it will be nice but not hot

After doing a little bit of surfing, here's what I now know:
- Kenya has roughly the same population as Canada, but is about the size of .. (I'm guessing) New Brunswick ... (Kenya is 583,000 square kms, Canada is 9 MILLION)
- it's a nice time of the year to go .. not too hot, not too rainy
- main languages are English and Swahili

More later as I learn more ...

Last minute craziness

Well, this looks like the start of another whole travel journal section of my blog. (Blogs are great, BTW, for filling in large numbers of people who want to hear from you as your trip progresses. Saves sending out large numbers of emails. And being able to post pictures is a bonus).

Right now, it's 6:43 am and way too early.

It's been a crazy 18 hours. The conference I am going to is less than two weeks away. And Kenya is one of those countries which require a visa. And it takes 7 business days to process a visa app, not counting in-transit time to get the paperwork from point A to Point B.

So I am up getting the last bits of my application together and calling Fedex. Thank god the paperwork only has to go to Ottawa and not all the way to Nairobi.

So it was a whole day of scrambling, booking plane tickets, getting passport pictures, money order to pay for the visa, arranging expensive one day FedEx delivery on both ends ... I could have saved myself about 50 bucks if I had been able to get it all off yesterday but I couldn't. So it goes today, along with many prayers that it will get there and back in time.

Haven't even had a minute to think about the workshop I'm going to be doing -- fortunately I've done similar workshops before so it won't be a great deal of work to figure it out. Next week will be fine. Heck, I'll have seven hours at Heathrow while waiting to change planes to do it since I'm taking my laptop.

That reminds me of another thing to do ... check on the power standards so I can bring the right adapters.

Travel is fun .. travel is fun ... travel is fun .... I repeat to myself. Or, at least it will be when I'm more organized and less overwhelmed.

Nairobi Bound!

I am sitting here typing and burning off excess energy while I wait on hold to book my ticket to Nairobi.

I just found out today (!) that the Canada Council is funding my trip, which has to begin on September 26 (!!!). That's like ... the middle of next week.

My head is spinning .... I thought there was a chance my application would be approved but I never took it as a given. So I've been just going ahead doing my work as though I was going to be here in Hamilton in my little apartment for the forseeable future.

I have been invited to do a presentation on creative ways to present audio documentaries . The organization which invited me is the International Association of Women in Radio and Television (www.iawrt.org)

I am still waiting to see how much my ticket is going to cost ...

I am getting boggled. Happily boggled but I am hyperventilatng.

Update -- got a good price. I will be spending 7 hours at Heathrow while I make a connection, but it's good!

My Best Buddy Dave

I've wanted to write about Dave for a long time. But I didn't have a picture.

Today he sent me a long email and this picture from Hanoi. It was taken in the Marshall Islands where he was doing a story on the nuclear tests in the '40's.

Dave is off on a halfway around the world tour, doing stories as he goes. He's one of my all time favourite people and most wonderful of friends.

My first introduction to Dave was back at CFMU at McMaster University in Hamilton in 1992. Our surly engineer who came from an eastern bloc country and wasn't fond of peaceniks kicked a piece of dirt on the floor at the station and snarled "I see Kattenburg is back from Nicaragua and bringing his Commie dirt back with him". Somehow I knew I'd like this man. It was a good start to a wonderful friendship.

Dave came to McMaster in the late 60's. He was about to finish his doctorate in some kind of biological sciences. Then "IT" happened ... the thing that was to define most of his life and make him forget about being a scientist almost forever. That's when he met our mutual friend Lil, who asked the innocent question "would you like to be part of my radio show?". Well, that was it. Dave fell in love with radio.

Over the years he has produced many outstanding productions. And in 1998, he invited me to be part of his work. Since then, we have done 5 radio series together on issues of social justice and human rights. It was the beginning of a whole new area of inquiry in my life, and I am grateful that he opened those doors for me.

Working with Dave and being his friend has been one of the great joys of my life. He has challenged me, shared new ideas, hugged me, laughed with me, commiserated with me and has been there for me both professionally and personally every step of the way.

Hope you find many, many great things about the world to share with us, Dave. Love ya, miss ya. Come home soon .. but not too soon. There is still much to be discovered.

Travels in Atlantic Canada

This is a very quick post -- I am sitting here in a gorgeous little bed and breakfast in St. John New Brunswick. The house is probably 150 years old, refashioned from a one-very-rich-family house to 15 rooms of guest accommodation.

The woodwork is original, so is the leaded and stained glass windows and it is splendid. And they have internet in the drawing room with the original fireplace from days of olde. Beautiful.

Tomorrow morning, very early, we get on the ferry to Digby Nova Scotia, across the Bay of Fundy and to Bear River, the place where I want to live for at least part of the year.

It's been a long trip of miles and miles. I do a lot of driving anyway so I'm used to it. I'm travelling with my two older sisters (my older twin sisters, whom my friends call "The Double Diane Keatons" -- they do look a lot like her, and the energy is quite similar). And with my parents .. who were promised this trip for their 50th wedding anniversary.

There will be many stories after this trip is over .. so far, the highlights are ... we are finally here in the Maritimes. Long, long, long drive. And I'm not overly tired. And I was able to impress the hell out of all of them by doing the driving through Montreal. They were awestruck ... and swore they would never go further east than the Quebec/Ontario border again unless I was doing the driving. I enjoyed that .. both the driving and also the compliments when they all said "I can't believe you brought us through that". It wasn't that hard .. but if they want to believe it was a feat of great bravery, I'll let them believe that.

Tomorrow morning we catch the 9 am ferry to Digby. My mom and dad are having a good time .. which is a big deal because up until now we haven't been able to convince them to go on a trip anywhere. So this is good.

Enough for tonight ... I'm going to enjoy my wine and this beautiful house (hope there's a ghost or two hanging about ... makes it so much more interesting to have an apparition or two to reckon with ...)

Instructions for Freedom

If you haven't read it yet, read "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's a story about one woman's journey of self-discovery -- first to Italy to enjoy sensuality, love of self and good food; next to India to discover her spiritual centre; and then to Indonesia to tie them all together. It's a great book.

In one chapter, she's at an ashram in India. She is instructed to go to the roof of the ashram, watch the stars come out, and to come back down again when she can let go.

Here are her Instructions for Freedom:

1) Life's metaphors are God's instructions.
2) You have just climbed up and and above the roof. There is nothing between you and the Infinite. Now, let go.
3) The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go.
4) Your wish for resolution was a prayer. Your being here is God's response. Let go, watch the stars come out -- on the outside and on the inside.
5) With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go.
6) With all your heart, forgive him, FORGIVE YOURSELF, and let him go.
7) Let your intention be freedom from useless suffering. Then, let go.
8) Watch the heat of day pass into the cool night. Let go.
9) When the karma of a relationship is done, only love remains. It's safe. Let go.
10) When the past has passed from you at last, let go. Then climb down and begin the rest of your life. With great joy.

So What's Up With That?

If you're a Facebook friend of mine, there is a 50% chance you are also a Facebook friend of Barry's. We have a lot of overlap. Some of you are casual friends, but a lot of you are pretty good friends. So as you watch his status updates come in and then watch mine, you may be wondering "what's up with them?".

And also a lot of you have warm concern for both of us. And that is lovely. So, as I try to make myself NOT look at his page (and don't often succeed), I still find myself wondering things like "how the hell did he find an internet connection when he's on a bus in White River?". (Though if anybody could find an internet connection in the middle of the bush, it's him)

I'm not going to pretend I don't care, but I wanted to reassure all of you who care about me (and him) that I'm doing alright. It's another stage in a letting go that is getting less and less difficult all the time. Every now and again, a big wave will come and knock me over .. which is what is happening this week. But the waves are getting smaller and smaller with calmer seas in the middle.

It hurts to watch him go. I'm not at the point yet where it doesn't hurt any more (looking forward to that day, though ..) I am also glad he's going ... we met out in BC. His family is there. Regardless of whether or not this particular new relationship works out (ho, man, this guy falls in love easy ...), BC is home.

I always kind of felt like I dragged him back here to Ontario .. I don't think he really liked it here (he hated Toronto for the longest time). And he adores his mother. She is 80 and it is really good that he is going to be closer to her. And his brother and sister, his nieces and nephews. He seemed very alone out here, even when he was with me. So it's good he's going back to a place that feels like his.

Something else some of you might have noticed ... Barry started a Facebook group called "Bring Barry Home". He explains that he's been sick over the past year and very broke and he needs some help right now with relocation costs. When I saw it, my first reaction was guilt ... like, it's my fault. And then a bit of anger because I thought it might reflect badly on me ("she took him for everything he's got" .. which is not true). All irrational stuff ... as I remind myself not everything is about me.

Then I took a few minutes and let compassion settle in. He's had a rough time of it, just in a different way than me. And throughout our whole separation, he's been pretty honourable for the most part. And reading through his request for help, I realized that five years ago, he would never, ever, ever, have asked for help from anybody but me. And often, not even me. What this shows is that there is growth happening. He is trusting people. And that is so good.

And however mad I still get at him, I do have to acknowledge that he has helped many, many people over the years. He very rarely asks for anything for himself. I support him in his efforts to reach out .. I am not contributing to the fund myself because I don't think he wants me to. And my first instinct is to rush in and save him (a hard habit to break after 22 years together). I can't do it. But I hope that others do.

As for me, I know I have to stop looking at his damn Facebook page. And I have to leave living of his life to him. Time to butt out (as several of my friends have been sternly reminding me .. after I post this, I am fully expecting at least two people to chime in and remind me to get back to work. They're right ...

Time to take care of myself. It's not about him anymore. It's all about me. For now. Maybe some time it won't be just about me, but I think it's going to be a long time before I get seriously involved with anyone ever again. It's all still pretty raw ..

I always believed that I could maybe find somebody as good as Barry. But never better. It's not that I have to stop loving him .. it just means that I have to learn how to do it differently.

It's a good thing that he's going back ... and it's time for me to butt out ...

The Urge for Going

And I get the urge for going
when the summer grass is turning brown
and summertime is falling down
and winter's closing in - Joni Mitchell

Fall is always the time when my feet get restless. Starting with moving out of my parent's home to go to university many years ago, to hopping on the train to move out to Vancouver ... and most recently, packing up my house two years ago and living various places. And last fall .. preparing for my trip to Asia, and getting on the plane and actually going.

This year, I am staying in one place. It's other people who are going ...

I just found out that Barry is planning to move back to British Columbia ... 25 years after I hopped on the train and went west myself. And met him. And then came back with him. And now he's going back ..

And another friend of mine has just told me that he's moving too. Hamilton is a hard city to live in for a gay man, he tells me. He's moving back to the community where he lived before he had to come back to take care of his elderly parents. They are both gone. He is sad that they're gone, but free to go.

I talk to other friends who are also wondering where their lives are going to take them. On the fun side of things, I just had an energizing conversation with a group of galpals of mine ... we were dreaming ahead to the day when we'd open up an old lady commune. Similar to the way we were living in the '60s and '70s but with more style, flair and money. We were also talking about buying a joint property on some tropical location as our winter home (NOT Florida .. we're talking about somewhere really exotic).

I am wondering where I am going to be travelling next. I don't think I'll be staying in Hamilton over the long term but for now it's time to cool my itchy feet. Like my dog, I never did learn to listen to the command "Stay!"

But stay I shall. For now ...

So I'll ply the fire with kindling, pull my blankets to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or two
But she's got the urge for going
So I guess she'll have to go.

Those Weak Female Politicians ...

Here's one of the stranger paragraphs I've seen in a long time:

From The Globe and Mail, today, "Pakistan: Former PM's Lobbying Trips Leave Little Time for Family" by Brett Popplewell:

(preceded by several paragraphs about her rise and fall from power as the only woman to have governed an Islamic state in the modern era)

"Though she's comfortable wielding the powers of a world leader, she's not without her weaknesses. It's said her personal library in Dubai houses four shelves devoted to self-help books. A lover of Ben and Jerry's caramel fudge ice cream, chocolate cake and meringues, she keeps her impulses in check by switching from one diet to another. Although, for treat, she enjoys lunch at Harrods, London's famed department store".

Maybe that's why I never had the desire to go into politics ... my weakness for Ben and Jerry's obviously deems me unqualified for the halls of power.

The Art of Eating Slowly

I recently joined the new Hamilton Chapter of Slow Food.

I heard about the Slow Food Movement almost twenty years ago and have always wanted to join. Slow Food was started by a man named Carlos Petrini in a town in Italy back in the '80's. When a McDonald's opened up in his town, he reacted to fast food by promoting Slow Food.

Slow Food means noticing what you're eating. Tasting it. Smelling it. Taking time preparing it. And enjoying what you're eating with people who are also enjoying what they're eating. It's about quality instead of quantity.

Today, we were invited by the head chef at Ancaster's Old Mill, to have our meeting at his restaurant. Jeff Crump has been involved in the Slow Food movement for longer than us. It was sure evident when we sat down at the table. He had prepared a simple, but elegant and beautiful dish of fresh tomatoes with herbs and pesto, a platter of four artisan cheeses, grilled flatbread. We finished off with a cherry clafutti, which was sweet cherries cooked in a delicate, sinfully rich batter that you might use to make crepes. To say it was all divine is an understatement.

And so we ate ... slowly. But it wasn't just about the food. The conversation around the table was far-ranging ... we talked about local products, local restaurants, but also issues which affect the food we eat. Urban sprawl, poverty, availability of organic food, supporting our farmers, patents on life forms such as seeds. The point of Slow Food is not just to eat and enjoy good food .. but to become informed and involved in the issues so that good food is accessible to all.

It's a noble cause. And rich .. in taste and in content.

Distraction Addiction and the Internet

I subscribe to a newsletter by Eric Maisel, a psychologist who works specifically with artists. The focus of his newsletter and much of his work are about getting out of your own way and getting writing. Or painting. Or dancing. Or whatever.

His books are really good ... one of my favourite ones is "The Van Gogh Blues -- The Creative Person's Path through Depression". Even if you don't have this particular problem it is still very useful. And so are his other books, written to help us unleash all the buried creativity and turn our thoughts and emotions into something useful that the rest of the world can relate to.

Click here for his website.

In this week's email newsletter, he addressed something which struck close to home ... being a person who really enjoys my virtual on-line life (maybe a bit too much).
Here is an excerpt:

The Distraction Addictions
By: "Eric Maisel" www.ericmaisel.com

Hello, everybody:

I’ve thought a lot about those special addictions that might be dubbed the distraction addictions, addictions like compulsive Internet surfing, online shopping, and video game playing that have sprung up alongside our technological advances. These new addictions are a lure for everybody, but they are especially alluring to folks like
full-time writers who spend their working days on the computer a mere split second away from Internet access.

If we are even minimally anxious, resistant, discouraged, uncertain or unmotivated and therefore eager to find some way to avoid getting on with our writing, how strong the pull is to distract ourselves with a beckoning, right-at-hand Internet possibility. The pull to avoid our work can prove so strong that it is fair to call our flight compulsive and to characterize our behavior in real and not metaphoric terms as an addiction. How many millions of hours are writers losing to the distraction addictions? And insofar as these behaviors represent a real addiction, the solution isn’t an easy one—what’s required is nothing less than a full-fledged recovery program.

Something similarly real, poignant, and prevalent are the adrenaline addictions. Here a person who is addicted to fast driving, fast living, risk-taking and other hormonal wildness is using the body’s ability to create excitement as a substitute for the earned excitement that comes with nailing a page of the novel he or she is writing. How much easier it is to get a rush by hopping on your motorcycle and racing down the road than by canalizing your energy, channeling your being into your creative work, and waiting for the rush of good adrenal feeling that may not come until late this afternoon—or next week—or not at all.

The distraction addictions and the adrenaline addictions are existential cheap thrills. We have to guard against them, and deal with them forthrightly if they’ve gotten their claws into us, with as much honesty and care as we are obliged to deal with anything with the power to rob us of our time, energy, and authenticity. A little Internet surfing, like a little social drinking, is no problem whatsoever. But when you begin to lose control, the negative consequences and the feelings of guilt and shame commence, and you know, even as you have trouble admitting it, that you have a problem—...well, you do.

If some form of distraction addiction or adrenaline addiction is a significant reality in your life, share your story with me and, with your permission, I’ll pass a few such stories along in this newsletter. I know that we’d all love to hear, so that we can begin to understand them moreclearly and deal with them more effectively.

Taking up Less Space on the Planet

Aerial view of Bangalore India


Selling my 110 year old Victorian house was the second hardest thing I've ever had to do. Leaving behind my gardens with my 80 year old heritage roses, my big maple tree in the back yard, the high ceilings and the spacious rooms was a huge loss. At the time, I didn't want to live anywhere else.

So I hit the road and decided not to live anywhere for a while. I came back to Hamilton in February and started to feel like it was time to settle in. I went to the opposite extreme and got myself an average-sized one bedroom apartment.

And you know, it's okay. I don't miss my old house the way I thought I would. There are a lot of pluses -- starting with $300 less in utility bills. And I'm not buying so much anymore because there's no extra space to put things in. When I had the house, there was always a blank wall to fill, a spot that would be perfect for the chair I saw in the antique store. In the apartment, I only have enough space for what I have.

And I even have a garden ... in pots on my spacious balcony. No weeding to do, no leaves to rake. I even have a couple of tomato plants in production right now .. there aren't a lot of tomatoes on it, but they are really good.

I think I've begun to shift my thinking because of all the other homes I've seen in my various travels. New York City --- everybody has small apartments there. After visiting friends and finding out how much rent costs in the big apple, I can understand why the New York style of decorating is sparse .. because nobody has any money left to buy much after the rent is paid.

And Delhi -- the family I stayed with in India had a two bedroom flat. Ten people lived there. Eleven, counting me. And it worked. It's all about the rhythm you establish with the people with whom you live ... some people get beds, others roll out the sleeping mat on the floor. You do what you need to do.

I'm thinking more and more these days about sustainability .. both ecologically and economically. Standing on the sidewalk looking at my big house, I can see now that we had more than we needed. It is this kind of living that leads to urban sprawl. Mind you, our house was not built recently on good farmland. But it's the same suburban attitudes ... that we all need three bathrooms, a guestroom, a family room, a living room. In the case of families, I can see the need for larger spaces. But for the two of us, all that space is wasteful.

Last year I went to the World Urban Forum in Vancouver. The predominant theme was that soon, very soon, there will be more people living in cities than in rural areas. Everyone agreed, we need to figure out ways of creating living space for more people.

I think part of the job is to change our definition of what constitutes a good life. We don't have to have as much as we think we need.

Small though it is, I like my little place. If I go into a larger house, I want it to be shared space. Because we all need to share what we have with each other as resources get scarcer and scarcer. Looking at it now, I haven't lost anything. I've gained a new understanding about how I need to live on this planet.

On-line vs. non-line

The shape of things to come -- an online meeting through the computer with Vancouver, Toronto and some city in Poland ...


A friend of mine told me today how much he likes my blog. And I got to thinking how little I've paid attention to my blog since Facebook came along. Oh, the seductiveness of these new little sirens on the Internet makes us all faithless lovers.

I'm rather culture shocked by all these new gadgets. I consider it important to keep up with all the new trends and ways that people are using the internet. Partly out of interest but mostly because I don't think you can do participatory media work without keeping up.

And there's so much to learn. Life was simple when there were blogs. Blogs are now so ten-minutes-ago. Know how I can tell? When people who were positively internet phobic are showing up on blogs, you know they're becoming pretty standard fare.

Same is becoming true with Facebook. I just got a friend invitation from somebody I hadn't heard from in a long time who accepted my invitation to be a Facebook friend. (I sent the invitation about three months ago, so it took a bit of thought on his part). So then I went to his listing and hit "view friends" and there were no friends there. So he still doesn't quite get it ... a Facebook page with no friends. But at least he's there. It's a start, pretty good for a person who has never shown up in a Google search. That's how internet-absent he is. Geez, even my grandmother shows up in Google searches and she's been dead for 15 years.

I am getting quite boggled (bloggled?) by it all. I just signed up with Ning, on the advice of the Exalted One Wayne MacPhail (knower of all things in the new generation Web ... you can bow down to him in homage at www.w8nc.com). I look at his Facebook site every day to find out what the latest is .. and there's always something new.

It takes a long time to figure out how to integrate a lot of those new apps in communications projects and daily life. I still don't understand all of the implications. I recommend to people that they try out some of these new things ... only by using them can you really start to understand the impact they're having on society. And your kids.

Had a discussion yesterday with someone who refuses to be a presence on the internet because he doesn't want it to replace his personal relationships face-to-face. He told me "I've only got five people I consider to be my friends. And I want to see them in person, not on the internet". And that's fair enough .. one of the things I've heard said about friendships these days is that many people's pool of friends is wide, but shallow. He prefers narrow and deep.

I'm pretty picky about to whom I attach the word "friend" as well. Even so, I would describe my pool as deep and wide. I enjoy having easy access to my friends through the internet. If I could sit down with a friend for a beer, I'd rather do that. But I can't do that with most of them because they're all over the place.

That's the point, I think. I don't want to see people live all their lives in virtual reality. But using virtual reality to augment life on non-line is valid.

It's all a question of balance. And using new tools to enhance your life. Not take over it.

I still love being a geek-girl ...

When things fall apart ...

I don't know what it is about July of 2007. For some reason, a lot of things are falling apart for a lot of people in my life right now.

Several people are in a state of confusion, not sure where they should land and what they need to do to get there. It's not as desperate as "is my parachute going to open or am I going to get schmucked on the ground?" but there is a lot of uneasiness around anyway.

Several organizations I am involved with, or peripherally involved with, are going through some troubles right now. In my own life, the job that was supposed to provide me a financial base for the forseeable future is on the verge of collapse. I've only been involved with this group for several months, so I'm not sad about this so much for me ... it's an organization which has been in existence for almost twenty years. A lot of people have put a lot of heart and soul into this group. I'm mostly sad to watch their hopes and dreams whither away. It may not come to that, but it's looking like shutting down is a distinct possibility.

And there are a couple of other groups in town (many, actually) that are living a tenuous existence .. from grant to grant, miracle to miracle.

The biggest problem is that people get tired and burn out .. I wish we could just do the work and be able to forget about mere survival for a while. If that were possible, we could all get to the business and art of building our communities. As it is, we're just treading water.

This is not a lament, though. And regardless of what happens, I'll be okay. I've learned a lot about resilience throughout my life, especially in the last couple of years.

Some of my reflections about change:

1) change is cyclical. What seems to be insurmountable usually works out in the end.
2) change happens all the time. But sometimes it gets more dramatic than at other times. It's not that change wasn't happening before a particular dramatic event happens. It's just that most of the time it doesn't come roaring in ... most of the time it's more subtle than that. So nothing's really different except the intensity. Same old, same old.
3) the more you try to force things to resolve themselves, the worse it's going to be. That doesn't mean you should quit trying. It's about the kind of trying you do .. the times I ride out the changes the best are the times when I am able to give up attachments to particular outcomes. For example, maybe this organization I'm working with will come through the crisis. Or maybe it won't. Whatever happens, it won't be the end of the story. The old systems will evolve into new ones.

My wise mountainwoman friend Angie told me a story about her Granny that has stayed with me through the years. Her Granny was widely acknowledged to have powers that people couldn't explain. When Angie asked her "Granny, where does it come from?", her Granny just said "sshhh .. we don't talk about such things". Because if you try to find the source of the power, it will leave you.

"Not FROM me", Granny said, "THROUGH me".

Hard mantra to put into practice ... but a profound statement about reducing our ego investment in whatever's happening around you. And it works when you can manage it.

Living on the Fault Line

I just got back from doing a really compelling interview.

I am working on my documentary about the family I stayed with in Kashmir, India, in the fall. I have turned the story into a print piece that will be coming out in Mayday Magazine this month. My radio piece (the first one anyway) is just about done and will be broadcast/podcast sometime over the next two weeks.

Those two pieces focus on the lives of the Muslim family I stayed with. I had many, many questions after I left than I had when I first got there, and the more I learn, seems the more complex it gets.

Some of the stories that I work on are disposable .. I write them and forget them. Then there are the stories that stay with you .. it's not so much that I found the story. Rather, the story found me. This is one of them.

A friend of mine casually mentioned that she had a student in her class from Kashmir, and then asked "you went there, didn't you?". She told me more about him .. he's a Hindu from Kashmir, originally from Srinagar, where I had been.

I really wanted to talk to him because there aren't that many Hindus in Kashmir anymore .. a lot of them had left or were driven out when the conflict intensified in 1989. This was a piece to the story I didn't really know a lot about yet. So I got together with Raj this morning. I will post the entire interview on rabble.ca at the same time as I post the documentary.

What was so remarkable about it? What it demonstrated to me was the significance of Kashmir to this young Hindu man .. it's not just holy to Muslims. Even though he had left Kashmir when he was three, Raj referred to Kashmir as a Mecca for Hindus too. And not just Hindus and Muslims. Many people believe that the crucifixion didn't kill Christ ... that his disciples spirited him and Mother Mary away to Kashmir. There have also been genetic tests done showing that Kashmiris have Jewish blood.

Raj says he can remember his family's house, his family's lifestyle and leaving Kashmir. He talked about his aunt who was killed in a bomb blast. He doesn't remember a lot because he was only three. But he is proud to be a Kashmiri even though he is in exile. He would like to go back for a visit but says it isn't safe for a Hindu.

I asked him the question that had been on my mind ever since coming back ... was I brave to go there, naive, or a combination of the two? I asked him if he would recommend that his friends go to Kashmir. He answered, if they are Muslim, yes. Hindu, no. And if you're any other nationality, also no.

But haven't things settled down now, I asked? Yes, they have, he said. Because relations between Pakistan and India are now better? He said he didn't think that was it ... he thinks that the jihadis who were active in Kashmir in past years are now active in other parts of the world. Like Afghanistan.

I tried to get to the heart of his belief about Kashmiri Muslims -- explaining that the fear, the bloodshed, the fighting, was not at all what I experienced living with the Dandoo family. He said "Asian Muslims are different. They come from different traditions." Muslims, Hindus, Christians and Jews all lived in peace for many years. This is a type of Islam that has been imported into Kashmir from elsewhere, he told me. And the Muslims in Kashmir are going through a crisis of identity, not knowing who they are anymore.

I have been looking for a metaphor that symbolizes what I perceived while I was there. Raj gave me the metaphor I was looking for ... this is India's fault line, he said, shifting all the time. Sometimes dramatically, sometimes subtley, but always shifting.

If there is no huge shift, things can continue on as they have. But the violent shift that changes everything could happen at any time.

And nobody knows when.