Wednesday, December 12, 2007
He lowers the helmet over his head...
He lowers the helmet over his head, lifting the visor so he can see his way. The road lays before him, wild animals roam freely. He will have to be careful of them. It is early dusk and the light is a hazy purple, difficult to see. He pulls down the visor to check his vision and not wanting the get the dust in his eyes. Harmattan is here in its full force. The dust of the Sahara blown in and raised throughout the day, only to settle again in the night. He turns the key in the ignition from lock, to off, to on. No red and green lights. It means something. He is not sure what. He brings in the left handle and flicks the left peddle down until the lights come on. That done he now pushes the moto forward. The bike does not budge easily. He checks and remembers to pull in the left handle again. He pushes the bike forward into the garage and then comes out again to push in the next deciding to leave the helmet on though it belongs to the first bike. Once all four bikes are in the garage he surveys his parking abilities. He’ll do it better tomorrow. He lifts the helmet and places it over the mirror of bike: ER6368X. One can only dream of the day a watchman on 30 cedis a month (a dollar a day) can afford to ride off into the sunset on such a bike, any bike even. He is reminded of the pushbike at his house. The axle for the front wheel broken, no money to repair it, forced to borrow the shiny new, blue pushbike of one of his 4 female employers. She has a pushbike and a moto. He locks the door and goes back to sit outside the gate looking forward to the regular, easy banter he will have with his two other watchman friends.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Back from the dead
Two Fridays ago a young man came up to me and began talking in familiar way. He was shy, not as brazen as most, so I let him talk. He was also on the road with another young man who I felt I had seen before at the National Secretariat office in town. We chatted and he said I was beautiful. I half laughed and brushed it off. I said at his initial suggestion he could come and see me on the weekend. He didn’t. I forgot all about it so it didn’t matter. We were, all 3 of us, picked by a man in a van with lots of second hand books and a few young children. He dropped us in town.
Monday morning I was ‘ssss’d’ at and I turned to see the young man, Stevo. I teasingly scolded him for not coming. He said he was too shy to come. A cultural thing that I am quite glad of really. He came and waited for a taxi with me. Chatted, telling me he wanted to see me and I was beautiful and he told his father he was friends with a white lady and his father was happy. I lost interest at that point. He said he’d pop by. I wasn’t keen so decided to sincerely hope that he would become shy like he did over the weekend. I forgot all about it.
Tuesday morning I was picked up by the man in the van on my way to town. This time there were no books but the small children were present. His children on their way to school. He picked a young woman, a friend of the family on the way and they began chatting in Frafra about something. I knew it was serious because there were a lot of ‘oh, my goodnesses’ and ‘dear lords’. When she got out just before the police barrier at a small set of 2 shops the man turned to me and told me that this was were my friend had died last night. The one he’d taken with me to town on Friday. The son of the Regional Director of Coordinating councils. He was sorry to have spoiled my day. It was Steven. I was shocked.
I spent the day upset and grumpy not sure whether to cry because I really hadn’t been interested, understanding why he hadn’t called by, knowing it was his karma but at the same time feeling sorry for the unnecessary loss of a life. It was a motorbike accident. This road from my home to town has someone die at the most one a week, the least once a fortnight. At least it has since we’ve been here. It is a 24 hour competition between goats, guinea fowl, cows, pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes, share taxis, private cars, trucks and potholes. I told a few people to get it off my chest and everyone agreed that it was such a tragic death. He was only 24.
Well, yesterday, Sunday, I was in my kitchen and my housemate came to say that there was a Steven at the door to see me. I looked at her blankly and said that it was not possible because he was dead. She said I should go and see for myself. My two other housemates stared at me in disbelief. Was it a ghost? It had been confirmed that it had been him in the accident. I was slightly overwhelmed. I went outside.
He was standing there with glassy eyes ready with tears. He looked emotionally torn. I told him I’d thought he was dead. He said it had been his brother, 35 with a girlfriend and no kids, the eldest son, his only brother. I invited him in for a chat thinking perhaps this second chance had something in it and the least I could do was talk to him at such a tragic time. So we chatted and then he got around to the topic of wanting me. No matter how I tried to explain it and how he tried to explain his ideas we both had to repeat ourselves three times because we wanted clarification or couldn’t understand what the other was expressing. I suggested we go for a walk because everyone was home and we had little privacy to discuss the idea of getting together.
He took my across the road to a dam surrounded by trees and covered by water lilies. It was peaceful and I had no idea such a lovely spot was so near my home. When you stray from the road you find what you thought was suburbia is actually still fairly rural. We talked and he reached and touched me occasionally. He talked about having sex with me and I gave no indicators as to whether it would or would not happen. I wanted to hear him talk and decide what sort of person he was. I explained about having to be on my guard because people approach white ladies all the time and most of them are not sincere. I didn’t believe he got it however I decided to accept his idea of coming over later that evening. He had a meeting with his father to discuss funeral arrangements for his brother and would come after. I envisaged watching a video and then talking and then maybe we would kiss, after that I would see how I felt.
So he came over with some plantain and an orange. He sat very tensely on the couch. I thought about the differences between his and my culture about handling emotions and how we express them. If he was Aussie I would sit next to him and reach out and touch his hand and see if he was okay. I did this. I felt slightly strange. I thought he would need some friendly support. He actually just wanted to have sex. He spent the next 20 minutes trying every possible way, walking in and out of my bedroom and the lounge room, sitting on me, sitting me on him. I spent the 20 minutes pushing him off, telling him to settle down and asking him to leave. The message did not get through. It seems his penis radar was far too strong. He is going through a rough time and wanted some comfort and he thought if he could just have a 5-minute fuck his world would not come crashing down and he could stand up and be a man.
I understood it was not anything about me that he wanted and so said I was going to the drinking spot where my friends were. It was the only way I could get him to leave, to leave the house myself. I got my keys, locked my room and we left the house. He kept trying to talk me round and apologise. I accepted the apology but made it clear that it did not mean that I would then turn around and let him have me. He thought it did. Katie, my Aussie housemate, walked past on her way to the house for something, and he tried to get her to talk to me about that he was sorry I was annoyed at him etc. She laughed, made a joke of it, went on her way. I was actually very calm. I turned to him and said I was going to the spot. That is it. I walked away and left him to whatever it was he was going to decide to do.
I won’t be seeing him again. If I see him around I shall ignore him. He goes to Tamale in a week and so I will not be really seeing him anyway. For that I am thankful.
Monday morning I was ‘ssss’d’ at and I turned to see the young man, Stevo. I teasingly scolded him for not coming. He said he was too shy to come. A cultural thing that I am quite glad of really. He came and waited for a taxi with me. Chatted, telling me he wanted to see me and I was beautiful and he told his father he was friends with a white lady and his father was happy. I lost interest at that point. He said he’d pop by. I wasn’t keen so decided to sincerely hope that he would become shy like he did over the weekend. I forgot all about it.
Tuesday morning I was picked up by the man in the van on my way to town. This time there were no books but the small children were present. His children on their way to school. He picked a young woman, a friend of the family on the way and they began chatting in Frafra about something. I knew it was serious because there were a lot of ‘oh, my goodnesses’ and ‘dear lords’. When she got out just before the police barrier at a small set of 2 shops the man turned to me and told me that this was were my friend had died last night. The one he’d taken with me to town on Friday. The son of the Regional Director of Coordinating councils. He was sorry to have spoiled my day. It was Steven. I was shocked.
I spent the day upset and grumpy not sure whether to cry because I really hadn’t been interested, understanding why he hadn’t called by, knowing it was his karma but at the same time feeling sorry for the unnecessary loss of a life. It was a motorbike accident. This road from my home to town has someone die at the most one a week, the least once a fortnight. At least it has since we’ve been here. It is a 24 hour competition between goats, guinea fowl, cows, pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes, share taxis, private cars, trucks and potholes. I told a few people to get it off my chest and everyone agreed that it was such a tragic death. He was only 24.
Well, yesterday, Sunday, I was in my kitchen and my housemate came to say that there was a Steven at the door to see me. I looked at her blankly and said that it was not possible because he was dead. She said I should go and see for myself. My two other housemates stared at me in disbelief. Was it a ghost? It had been confirmed that it had been him in the accident. I was slightly overwhelmed. I went outside.
He was standing there with glassy eyes ready with tears. He looked emotionally torn. I told him I’d thought he was dead. He said it had been his brother, 35 with a girlfriend and no kids, the eldest son, his only brother. I invited him in for a chat thinking perhaps this second chance had something in it and the least I could do was talk to him at such a tragic time. So we chatted and then he got around to the topic of wanting me. No matter how I tried to explain it and how he tried to explain his ideas we both had to repeat ourselves three times because we wanted clarification or couldn’t understand what the other was expressing. I suggested we go for a walk because everyone was home and we had little privacy to discuss the idea of getting together.
He took my across the road to a dam surrounded by trees and covered by water lilies. It was peaceful and I had no idea such a lovely spot was so near my home. When you stray from the road you find what you thought was suburbia is actually still fairly rural. We talked and he reached and touched me occasionally. He talked about having sex with me and I gave no indicators as to whether it would or would not happen. I wanted to hear him talk and decide what sort of person he was. I explained about having to be on my guard because people approach white ladies all the time and most of them are not sincere. I didn’t believe he got it however I decided to accept his idea of coming over later that evening. He had a meeting with his father to discuss funeral arrangements for his brother and would come after. I envisaged watching a video and then talking and then maybe we would kiss, after that I would see how I felt.
So he came over with some plantain and an orange. He sat very tensely on the couch. I thought about the differences between his and my culture about handling emotions and how we express them. If he was Aussie I would sit next to him and reach out and touch his hand and see if he was okay. I did this. I felt slightly strange. I thought he would need some friendly support. He actually just wanted to have sex. He spent the next 20 minutes trying every possible way, walking in and out of my bedroom and the lounge room, sitting on me, sitting me on him. I spent the 20 minutes pushing him off, telling him to settle down and asking him to leave. The message did not get through. It seems his penis radar was far too strong. He is going through a rough time and wanted some comfort and he thought if he could just have a 5-minute fuck his world would not come crashing down and he could stand up and be a man.
I understood it was not anything about me that he wanted and so said I was going to the drinking spot where my friends were. It was the only way I could get him to leave, to leave the house myself. I got my keys, locked my room and we left the house. He kept trying to talk me round and apologise. I accepted the apology but made it clear that it did not mean that I would then turn around and let him have me. He thought it did. Katie, my Aussie housemate, walked past on her way to the house for something, and he tried to get her to talk to me about that he was sorry I was annoyed at him etc. She laughed, made a joke of it, went on her way. I was actually very calm. I turned to him and said I was going to the spot. That is it. I walked away and left him to whatever it was he was going to decide to do.
I won’t be seeing him again. If I see him around I shall ignore him. He goes to Tamale in a week and so I will not be really seeing him anyway. For that I am thankful.
As I sat there playing scrabble with Mohammed
As I sat there playing scrabble with Mohammed
As I sat there playing scrabble with Mohammed at a plastic table, sitting on plastic chairs, I felt quite comfortable. To just sit quietly, minimal talking, playing with words was a perfect Sunday afternoon. Smiler came and joined us for a second game making words like boy, cow and up to my idiom, monkey and quoted. While there were few it was comfortable but then James and a crowd came and I hated it. A young woman was there and she was the one asked to get a chair, the one told she was too thin, the one who was touched in familiar gestures. It made me wonder what these engaged and married men really thought of her. Why were they being so familiar? I felt suspicious and uncomfortable. I felt like they were using her and that she was enjoying it because it made her feel bigger and she knew no other way to behave amongst men. It was acceptance and direction.
Dinner was ready and there was a confusion of whether I was invited to stay, would eat inside or out, would sit with James or eat later with the others and I wondered whether my colleague James really wanted me there at all now he was home and already inside preparing to be handed his dinner by another young girl who had come to the house and cooked the meal for them all. He’s pulled back since the novelty of having a white, female colleague wore off. To be honest my honeymoon period is over too. I am noticing more and more things that I am not happy with and find difficult because they do not so readily exist within my own world at home and so I count them as wrong or poor attitudes – mainly those towards work and women. I am here to work and I am a woman so they do impede on my everyday. It doesn’t make it any easier to sit back and ignore them.
I got up to go, I wanted to run, and asked a young man, Dennis, to accompany me. He is the least threatening and one who I know has a tender heart though he beats his fellow students in the same way he was when he was a junior like them. I like the way he looked after my puppy for a few weeks. He wants to be tough and I am sure he is but he is also malleable and of an age where it’s not so set in stone yet and so that is why I don’t find him very threatening. He has never been anything but kind and sweet to me. I contemplate having an affair with him to satisfy my own needs and because I am getting the feeling it will also satisfy some of his. His family is far away in the capital.
So I left with Dennis and we walked back to my house happy, calm with no threats to my femininity and stance as a woman in my own mind and this new society that I am settling into and then we parted. Whether we have an affair or not I don’t mind so much I just look forward to the opportunity to sit with someone who, as I said, does not feel threatening in any way.
As I sat there playing scrabble with Mohammed at a plastic table, sitting on plastic chairs, I felt quite comfortable. To just sit quietly, minimal talking, playing with words was a perfect Sunday afternoon. Smiler came and joined us for a second game making words like boy, cow and up to my idiom, monkey and quoted. While there were few it was comfortable but then James and a crowd came and I hated it. A young woman was there and she was the one asked to get a chair, the one told she was too thin, the one who was touched in familiar gestures. It made me wonder what these engaged and married men really thought of her. Why were they being so familiar? I felt suspicious and uncomfortable. I felt like they were using her and that she was enjoying it because it made her feel bigger and she knew no other way to behave amongst men. It was acceptance and direction.
Dinner was ready and there was a confusion of whether I was invited to stay, would eat inside or out, would sit with James or eat later with the others and I wondered whether my colleague James really wanted me there at all now he was home and already inside preparing to be handed his dinner by another young girl who had come to the house and cooked the meal for them all. He’s pulled back since the novelty of having a white, female colleague wore off. To be honest my honeymoon period is over too. I am noticing more and more things that I am not happy with and find difficult because they do not so readily exist within my own world at home and so I count them as wrong or poor attitudes – mainly those towards work and women. I am here to work and I am a woman so they do impede on my everyday. It doesn’t make it any easier to sit back and ignore them.
I got up to go, I wanted to run, and asked a young man, Dennis, to accompany me. He is the least threatening and one who I know has a tender heart though he beats his fellow students in the same way he was when he was a junior like them. I like the way he looked after my puppy for a few weeks. He wants to be tough and I am sure he is but he is also malleable and of an age where it’s not so set in stone yet and so that is why I don’t find him very threatening. He has never been anything but kind and sweet to me. I contemplate having an affair with him to satisfy my own needs and because I am getting the feeling it will also satisfy some of his. His family is far away in the capital.
So I left with Dennis and we walked back to my house happy, calm with no threats to my femininity and stance as a woman in my own mind and this new society that I am settling into and then we parted. Whether we have an affair or not I don’t mind so much I just look forward to the opportunity to sit with someone who, as I said, does not feel threatening in any way.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
My first week in Ghana
In our group of volunteers we are from Australia (2), Canada (1 or 2), Philippines (7), The Netherlands (2), the UK (including Britain, Wales and Ireland all being represented) everybody else – and 1 Italian.
Sometimes it’s been interesting/tiring/time consuming with the silly sort of questions people ask. For eg when discussing HIV/AIDS issues and education someone asked if women get together and talk about issues in life therefore empowering themselves. Seriously. No… women don’t talk to each other ever unless there is a male present who physically opens and shuts their mouth for them. Women in our own countries get together and discuss children’s schooling and these women do to, so does the person asking the question. It’s called life. It’s not always formalized. I am not being too harsh but also raising the point as to how some people expect the trainers to answer every detail about life in Ghana. However there are 138 different languages/dialects and many, many tribes here of which the trainer is only from 1. How would they know?! If someone asked me about daily life in Burke when I live in Hobart…. How should I know. I can guess but as to exactly … well I’ll have to go there to have those questions answered.
I have spoken to a few other people who, like me, are much more relaxed about where they are going to and are waiting till they arrive at their placement to discover the answers to those more specific questions. After in-country training here in Accra we get more training in our placements with our employers so it’s a full-on learning curve.
We had a training session yesterday by 5 current volunteers who are the regional representatives of the volunteers in their region. We had to go with our 2 Ghana Cedis (seh-dees) and buy the things on our list and ask certain questions in teams of 6. It was great fun and good to be finally out of the compound of the hotel and the local drinking spot up the street. After that we met at the local drinking spot for beer. After an hour or two it started raining quite heavily and so we all moved under the shelter. The music was loud and good and all of a sudden, to the delight and surprise of the waiters we began dancing. They joined in and we were all shaking and stamping. It was Awesome! Why sit there and get soaked when you can do it dancing to hiplife (popular Ghanian music). We were all teaching each other new dance moves. After that we came back for an early dinner and then some of us went to a bar called Champs which is basically a western sports bar. It was quiz night there. We didn’t do very well. But I think it was deliberately rigged towards Americans. There were some peace corps there and other various white folks. A good spot to know but not a place I came to Ghana for to frequent. Plus the beer is twice as expensive and the meals expensive too.
No Vice President as yet. There is a reception tonight at the VSO office with some VSO partners. Then I think a quiet night for me. We’ll see.
………
No it was not a quiet night at all!!! I went out to Champs again and they had Karaoke. Well, I had to sing didn’t I! It was heaps fun. There were only about 7 of us there. Dave and I sang ‘Don’t go breaking my heart’ by Elton John and Kiki Dee. The end of the song is long and so we ended up having a little ‘domestic’ in front of everyone. Just jokes about breaking hearts and stuff. Drunken stuff but hilarious all the same. When we left for the evening we went to the gate of the hotel complex and the security guard got us a taxi and we went back to the hotel. 3 cedis to get home.
I feel like I’ve been here for quite a while now not just 1 week. Have learnt a little more about my placement but have really just been socializing and partying.
Today we had cooking. I had only had about 5 hours sleep. We had to catch 2 tro-tro’s to get there. One to Kwame Nkrumah circle (commonly known as ‘circle’ or just move your finger around like you are stirring something in a circle) and then from there to Labone Circuit. It wasn’t too hard and people were so helpful which is something generally said about Ghanians and believe me it’s true. They are so helpful and don’t try to rip you off like in Kenya. The other day I went by myself to exchange some Aussie dollars and Euros. I went to a exchange bureau. I still haven’t figured out the money thing but to make matters worse Ghana is in the process, from 5 weeks ago, of changing over currencies. So I thought been seriously ripped off and just couldn’t get it. The new Ghana Cedi, as opposed to the Cedi, is just divided by 10,000. What was 10 000 cedis is now 1 Ghana Cedi and what was 2000 cedis is now 20 pesewas. There is 100 pesewas per Ghana cedi. So I went back to the hotel feeling crappy and asked Maria’s boyfriend, Richard, who is a banker, and he said no it was right. I was relieved and amazed because it was a perfect opportunity to rip me off.
So tonight I am in forced exile because I just can’t handle another night out. Also tomorrow is free so we should be going to the coast. That will be a nice change.
I am still working on how to do photos cause this blog only lets me do one by one. I am trying to put them on kodak gallery so will let you know. Got some good ones.
Sometimes it’s been interesting/tiring/time consuming with the silly sort of questions people ask. For eg when discussing HIV/AIDS issues and education someone asked if women get together and talk about issues in life therefore empowering themselves. Seriously. No… women don’t talk to each other ever unless there is a male present who physically opens and shuts their mouth for them. Women in our own countries get together and discuss children’s schooling and these women do to, so does the person asking the question. It’s called life. It’s not always formalized. I am not being too harsh but also raising the point as to how some people expect the trainers to answer every detail about life in Ghana. However there are 138 different languages/dialects and many, many tribes here of which the trainer is only from 1. How would they know?! If someone asked me about daily life in Burke when I live in Hobart…. How should I know. I can guess but as to exactly … well I’ll have to go there to have those questions answered.
I have spoken to a few other people who, like me, are much more relaxed about where they are going to and are waiting till they arrive at their placement to discover the answers to those more specific questions. After in-country training here in Accra we get more training in our placements with our employers so it’s a full-on learning curve.
We had a training session yesterday by 5 current volunteers who are the regional representatives of the volunteers in their region. We had to go with our 2 Ghana Cedis (seh-dees) and buy the things on our list and ask certain questions in teams of 6. It was great fun and good to be finally out of the compound of the hotel and the local drinking spot up the street. After that we met at the local drinking spot for beer. After an hour or two it started raining quite heavily and so we all moved under the shelter. The music was loud and good and all of a sudden, to the delight and surprise of the waiters we began dancing. They joined in and we were all shaking and stamping. It was Awesome! Why sit there and get soaked when you can do it dancing to hiplife (popular Ghanian music). We were all teaching each other new dance moves. After that we came back for an early dinner and then some of us went to a bar called Champs which is basically a western sports bar. It was quiz night there. We didn’t do very well. But I think it was deliberately rigged towards Americans. There were some peace corps there and other various white folks. A good spot to know but not a place I came to Ghana for to frequent. Plus the beer is twice as expensive and the meals expensive too.
No Vice President as yet. There is a reception tonight at the VSO office with some VSO partners. Then I think a quiet night for me. We’ll see.
………
No it was not a quiet night at all!!! I went out to Champs again and they had Karaoke. Well, I had to sing didn’t I! It was heaps fun. There were only about 7 of us there. Dave and I sang ‘Don’t go breaking my heart’ by Elton John and Kiki Dee. The end of the song is long and so we ended up having a little ‘domestic’ in front of everyone. Just jokes about breaking hearts and stuff. Drunken stuff but hilarious all the same. When we left for the evening we went to the gate of the hotel complex and the security guard got us a taxi and we went back to the hotel. 3 cedis to get home.
I feel like I’ve been here for quite a while now not just 1 week. Have learnt a little more about my placement but have really just been socializing and partying.
Today we had cooking. I had only had about 5 hours sleep. We had to catch 2 tro-tro’s to get there. One to Kwame Nkrumah circle (commonly known as ‘circle’ or just move your finger around like you are stirring something in a circle) and then from there to Labone Circuit. It wasn’t too hard and people were so helpful which is something generally said about Ghanians and believe me it’s true. They are so helpful and don’t try to rip you off like in Kenya. The other day I went by myself to exchange some Aussie dollars and Euros. I went to a exchange bureau. I still haven’t figured out the money thing but to make matters worse Ghana is in the process, from 5 weeks ago, of changing over currencies. So I thought been seriously ripped off and just couldn’t get it. The new Ghana Cedi, as opposed to the Cedi, is just divided by 10,000. What was 10 000 cedis is now 1 Ghana Cedi and what was 2000 cedis is now 20 pesewas. There is 100 pesewas per Ghana cedi. So I went back to the hotel feeling crappy and asked Maria’s boyfriend, Richard, who is a banker, and he said no it was right. I was relieved and amazed because it was a perfect opportunity to rip me off.
So tonight I am in forced exile because I just can’t handle another night out. Also tomorrow is free so we should be going to the coast. That will be a nice change.
I am still working on how to do photos cause this blog only lets me do one by one. I am trying to put them on kodak gallery so will let you know. Got some good ones.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
PASS THE SALT
A friend gave me this story this week after I’d confided in here two weeks before about potentially reviving an old flame and feeling very conflicted and confused about it.
PASS THE SALT
Respect the past in the full measure of its desserts, but do not make the mistake of confusing it with the present, or seek it in the ideals of the future.
- Jose Ingenieros
As I unpacked my suitcase at a hotel, I discovered that I had left two of my favourite articles of clothing in a closet at another hotel 2000 miles away. As I picked up the phone to call the hotel to see if the items had turned up in Lost and Found, I noticed that I was hesitating. I realized that I didn’t want to call because I didn’t really want to retrieve the items. One was a sweatshirt given to me years ago, and another was a casual shirt I have customarily worn on plane flights. Both felt very old, laden with memories and history I no longer wanted to carry with me. I put the phone down and smiled. I was done with the shirts. They did not belong to me now, and I would not call them back to me.
Every time we haul an old, painful memory into the now, we are phoning a distant hotel and asking for our tattered garments to be forwarded to our new abode. Messengers will do so if we ask. Then we wonder why our present looks like our past. But we are under no obligation to replay old scenes; all of life is optional, including reliving ancient pain. Every day we are free to choose anew. If today looks gruesomely like yesterday, and your life is a long replay of Groundhog Day, do not blame karma, the environment, or other people. Instead, look at the choices you are making today.
The Bible tells how, as Sodom was being destroyed, God told Lot and his family not to look back. Lot’s wife disobeyed, and she was turned into a pillar of salt. The story is a metaphor. When we clutch at the old after it no longer serves us, we become petrified. Salt is a preservative. We cannot preserve the past; we must release it to make way for a fresh new future.
I release the past and invite love to meet me in the present
PASS THE SALT
Respect the past in the full measure of its desserts, but do not make the mistake of confusing it with the present, or seek it in the ideals of the future.
- Jose Ingenieros
As I unpacked my suitcase at a hotel, I discovered that I had left two of my favourite articles of clothing in a closet at another hotel 2000 miles away. As I picked up the phone to call the hotel to see if the items had turned up in Lost and Found, I noticed that I was hesitating. I realized that I didn’t want to call because I didn’t really want to retrieve the items. One was a sweatshirt given to me years ago, and another was a casual shirt I have customarily worn on plane flights. Both felt very old, laden with memories and history I no longer wanted to carry with me. I put the phone down and smiled. I was done with the shirts. They did not belong to me now, and I would not call them back to me.
Every time we haul an old, painful memory into the now, we are phoning a distant hotel and asking for our tattered garments to be forwarded to our new abode. Messengers will do so if we ask. Then we wonder why our present looks like our past. But we are under no obligation to replay old scenes; all of life is optional, including reliving ancient pain. Every day we are free to choose anew. If today looks gruesomely like yesterday, and your life is a long replay of Groundhog Day, do not blame karma, the environment, or other people. Instead, look at the choices you are making today.
The Bible tells how, as Sodom was being destroyed, God told Lot and his family not to look back. Lot’s wife disobeyed, and she was turned into a pillar of salt. The story is a metaphor. When we clutch at the old after it no longer serves us, we become petrified. Salt is a preservative. We cannot preserve the past; we must release it to make way for a fresh new future.
I release the past and invite love to meet me in the present
Saturday, August 11, 2007
The amazing adventures of Frodo and Zebragirl
One day Frodo’s owner Sassy came over to Zebragirl’s house to drop him off. Frodo was going to stay with Zebragirl for 3 weeks while Sassy went off to play in another town. Frodo had lots of hugs. He slept on the small couch seat outside Zebragirls house and it fitted him perfectly. His head rested on the arm of the chair and his body curled up into the seat.
Zebragirl tried to take Frodo for walks every day cause he was such a big, cute dog needing lots of exercise but … sometimes she just couldn’t find Frodo at all! At first she was very worried but then she realized all she had to do was ride to Sassy’s place and Frodo would be there ready to come home again. It took him a week to realize Sassy wasn’t coming back for a while. He was sad but he adjusted and decided to stay with Zebragirl and have some adventures.
One day Zebragirl and Frodo were riding along the river towards Knotts Crossing. Frodo didn’t want to go there because it was new for him. He wanted to go back the other way towards Sassy’s house. No matter what Zebragirl did, Frodo would not budge. So she gave and rode in the opposite direction. Closer to the bridge, when Zebragirl decided to go and sit by the river Frodo, always having a mind of his own, decided to stay put sniffing a particularly lovely patch of grass. When Zebragirl came back to where Frodo had been… he was gone. What to do! Zebragirl rode along calling ‘Frodo, Frodo! Where art thou Frodo dog?’ All to no avail. Zebragirl decided to ride along the riverbank path towards Sassy’s house and found Frodo standing amongst the grasses waiting for her to ride past. It took a lot of coaxing but eventually Frodo gave up his search for Sassy and went home with Zebragirl. Zebragirl gave him some chicken wings to make him happy and encourage him to stay on the verandah. Frodo got the message and looked at Zebragirl with love. He decided to spend a bit more time at her house from now on until Sassy’s return.
A few days later Zebragirl and Hooch, her friend, decided to go to the shops and then on to a friends place. They thought they would take Frodo with them. Frodo followed them all the way to the main street of town and into the car park of the shopping centre. Frodo then decided to go sniff another dog and subsequently lost Zebragirl and Hooch in the throng of people. Frodo didn’t quite know what to do. But as always… when in crisis… Sassy’s house was just across town and so he decided to run away to that house. Later that night Zebragirl made the, now regular, trip across town to pick up Frodo in her dark blue car. Frodo hopped in and came back to his new home.
The next day Zebragirl decided to take Frodo for a run to the shops. It was always cool how Frodo could keep up with the bicycle cause he was such a big, strong dog. Zebragirl loved to watch Frodo run, as did Sassy. So they rode down to the shopping centre and as they neared the highway Frodo decided to run down the middle of the road, run across the highway and onto the other side of the road. A road train came past and Zebragirl, stuck on the other side of the road, lost sight of Frodo. Zebragirl, without much investigation, figured Frodo had gone back to Sassy’s. Later that night Hooch drove Zebragirl’s car over to Sassy’s and brought Frodo home.
It didn’t stop there though.
On another occasion Zebragirl was making a quick trip to the local shop a block and a half from home. Frodo, having not had a walk for a few days, decided to follow her. When they got to the shop Zebragirl went inside for 5 seconds to ask if she could put up a poster. When she came out Frodo had disappeared. Zebragirl was getting used to this disappearing act by now and so decided to cycle a few blocks over to the bike path to see if Frodo was making his way, once again, back to Sassy’s house. No sign of Frodo! So Zebragirl went ‘oh well’ and rode home. When she get home who should be there but Frodo. Having had his 3 second panic of ‘I’ve lost site of Zebragirl!’ he made his back the way he’d come to lovingly greet her at the front door. Zebragirl was very impressed with Frodo.
A few days later Zebragirl decided to visit a friend on Eastside. Frodo had never been to Eastside so stayed near Zebragirl for the length of the journey. They walked long and far from Northside to Eastside. When they got to Mama G’s house Frodo got very scared. Later on at home Hooch let Zebragirl know that Sassy always said Frodo was a little racist. Mama G was from East Africa and was very friendly but Frodo was not up for a friendship with her. So Zebragirl tied him up to a nearby pole, on account of 2 scary dogs being in her yard, and she went inside for a chat. Frodo was happy to be tied there because it kept him safe and when Zebragirl returned he was joyous. He still wouldn’t go near Mama G. They walked home together and Frodo was so happy to be back at home. He came to the fridge with Zebragirl and sat down. Zebragirl gave him a bone and said ‘outside’. Frodo took the bone in his mouth, walked outside and chewed his bone on the lawn happy and content.
That was today… the adventure continues...
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Second lsat day on retreat
Today is my second last day on retreat. I would love to bare my soul but it’s such a personal path and I don’t want to preach to anyone. That’s what fundamentalists do :). I didn’t have to deny myself use of the internet, mobile or mp3 player. I could hide away in my room all day if I wanted to. At the moment it is Saturday arvo and I have discovered Eurovision on SBS. Oh the Joy!!! It’s not about denial of anything. It’s about realization, understanding the mind and compassion for all sentient beings – that is living creatures.
I just find that looking at life through the Buddhist perspective gives me a lot of confidence, peace and understanding and a desire to share that with others. Maintaining practice away from temples and a potential guru is difficult but that is my karma. So, you know… deal with it. Change it or not.
Boddhichitta is an important part of Tibetan Buddhism. The concept of compassion and sending it out to others. I respond strongly to that. It’s what I do on a daily basis as a teacher <- it reminds me to do it more and more.
Oh that’s enough… I’ll keep the rest of it to myself. Unless you are really interested then… just ask.
I just find that looking at life through the Buddhist perspective gives me a lot of confidence, peace and understanding and a desire to share that with others. Maintaining practice away from temples and a potential guru is difficult but that is my karma. So, you know… deal with it. Change it or not.
Boddhichitta is an important part of Tibetan Buddhism. The concept of compassion and sending it out to others. I respond strongly to that. It’s what I do on a daily basis as a teacher <- it reminds me to do it more and more.
Oh that’s enough… I’ll keep the rest of it to myself. Unless you are really interested then… just ask.
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