Nelson Mandela on Ubuntu

Last week saw the birthday of Mr Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela, the former president of South Africa . He  reached the impressive age of 90 years and is still healthy enough to travel internationally. I spent my youth in South Africa and as a child I lived in a town close to the area where he grew up. As a celebration of his wisdom and leadership, and in acknowledgement of the positive influence he has had on my life, I have selected a few relevant quotes by the great Freedom Walker himself.

A traveller through our country would stop at a village, and he didn’t have to ask for food or for water. Once he stops, the people give him food, entertain him. That is one aspect of Ubuntu but Ubuntu has various aspects. Ubuntu does not mean that people should not enrich themselves. The question therefore is: Are you going to do so in order to enable the community around you to improve?”

“There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.”

“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

“We must use time wisely and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right.”

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”

“There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.”

“As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

“For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.”

“When the water starts boiling it is foolish to turn off the heat.”

“It always seems impossible until its done.”

Ubuntu is an African philosophy and is a Zulu word which means Humanity.

Ubuntu is also the name of an open source Linux operating system, spearheaded by Mark Shuttleworth, a South African entrepreneur.

Published in: on July 26, 2008 at 9:06 pm Comments (2)
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Red Wine for the Road

The reason, the reason, the reason
No derision will change your decision
Is because self-treason is not in season
And do you ever wonder, should I wander?
And should I ponder, beyond the blue yonder?
To seek out the code on the experimental road?
And release the hold to which my soul were sold?
And lose monochrome pain, for growth and  gain?
To transcend contention into evolving reinvention?
For inner life extension, freedom from convention!
Now the coast is clear, yes the unknown is near!
For motion and defiance, no static compliance!
New routes to reality, clarity from insanity!
No comfort zone, prone to be a clone?
To make it on your own, so alone
How extreme is your fear!?
It’s worth every tear!
You and the elements
There’s no other relevance!
If only, you only had to pray
Let the chips fall where they may!
There’s no denying that life’s for trying
If the path is hard, you won’t come crying
There’s no fame to claim, but your claim to fame
Will be Destinations Reached and Dreams Attained

By Jean-Jacques

© 2008 All rights Reserved

Published in: on June 21, 2008 at 9:45 pm Comments (2)
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ANYTHING for a cool job

Its a “warm” day in The Middle East. To be more specific, it’s a hot day in Tel Aviv, which is completely normal. It’s early-September and the country is suffering from a permanent heat wave, day and night. I’m lethargically lounging on one of the benches in the television room. The ad for this youth hostel proudly offers “air-conditioned” facilities. In the corner, above the television set to the right, with brackets mounted to the wall, is an industrial sized air-conditioning unit. My eyes drift towards it every now and again and I’ve noticed others in the room having the same tendency. It’s out of order, on a long term basis, but we have felt its power weeks ago. The wide-screen television and bright bar fridge pale in comparison to the universal magnetism of the big brown air regulator overhead. They sure know how to make them around here. In fact, the air conditioning repairman was around a few days ago, fixed the unit at reception, but miraculously neglected to get around to this one.

It’s equally hot everywhere else in the hostel, except at the reception area where cool-air groupies and new arrivals fight for standing space. The heat outside is in a different league, reserved for the brave and the desperate. Its late summer and shadow worshipping is the new religion. On CNN the reporter is going on about the latest financial scandal on Wall Street. “Blah-blah; blah-blah; blah-blah”. I don’t even have the energy to change the program via remote control to scan amongst the 200-and-something channels on offer with the local cable company. Today I’m alone in my misery. Everybody else is either insanely working outside doing construction or landscaping for cash, poor buggers, or are braving it on the beach which is scorching hot with lukewarm, dirty sea water or have by now already departed for cooler shores. A fly buzzes and circles around and around and around. My eyelids are like lead and I feel how I slowly start dozing off, when it happens: There’s a crackle on the intercom system. All my senses perk up and are perfectly alert. Could it possibly be? And then I hear it:

“A-A-A-A-N-Y-B-O-D-Y F-O-R A D-I-S-H-W-A-S-H-I-N-G J-O-B . . . !!?”

I scramble for the intercom phone on the wall, pick it up and shout:” Benny, it’s mine, I’ll take it! The ‘peep, peep, peep’ in my ear tells me that somebody might have beaten me to it, but I might still get it. I run up the stairs, three steps at a time and get to reception in 10 seconds flat, sweat dripping as I notice one of the Slovakian girls on the public telephone. “Damn, they want a guy for this job”, she says. “Mercy has come my way!” I think, and grab the phone from her. “Yes? 33 Sheinken Street? Okay No problem. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” I head straight down the stairs, all the way out the front door and on my way across Dizengoff Square. As I pass the McDonalds just after the bridge, a security guard asks me if I have a cigarette. I hand one over and hope for no more delays on the way to Sheinken Street. As I approach my favourite kiosk, where I normally buy the paper from, I cross the street to the other side in case the owner tries to start up a conversation with me. As much as I enjoy our usual chats there’s no time for pleasantries now. He sees me, I wave at him from the other side, show the peace sign and head straight on.

I speed up my already fast pace and carry on down Pinsker Street until I find Allenby Road, turn left and carry on past “My Coffee”, which was recently renovated and partially rebuilt due to an “incident”. The outside tables are deserted, but it looks jam-packed inside. Feeling a bit dehydrated and light headed, I make a quick left-turn into Sheinken Street and the scenery changes. I slow down to take it all in. Trendy people are striding the sidewalks, briefly stalling at boutiques and music stores for window shopping, or licking on their 2 Shekel Burger King ice creams. But there’s no time for day dreaming. I check the number on the nearest shop: no. 27. Almost there. A few seconds later I spot the copper numbers of no. 33 gleaming in the sun. It’s a funky coffee bar, packed to the brim. The security guard asks me something in Hebrew. “I’m here for the dishwashing job”, I reply in English. “Got a gun?” he asks in a strong Israeli accent as he checks me with a metal detector. “No.” I reply. “WELCOME!” he says with a big smile. In I go and then the SHEER BLISS of an icy cold, well air-conditioned room hits me with a shocking force and embraces me. Instant relief.

“I’m the dishwasher” I tell the barman. The lady at reception: “Eric! We just got worried that you might not come.” I tell her that my name is Jean-Jacques, not Eric, but I’ve been through this scenario before. At some places you are always Eric or Tony, no matter your real name. “Want to drink something before you start?” she asks. “Yes a Cola please.” I refrain from making the mistake of asking for a Coke, which in Israel could be close to confessing to a drug problem you don’t have. So COLA it is. “With Ice, bevakasha” [please]. I get shown to my kitchen porter post, next to three deep basins stacked high with dishes and two trolleys waiting in queue, laden with pots, pans and cutlery all in need of serious attention. “Embaya.”, I say. No problem! I can hear the sound of the ceiling fans cutting through the air and the rhythmic buzz of the overhead air-conditioning units. The perspiration has already dried from my face and a soft breeze is stroking my skin. I can feel the goose pumps starting up and I know that soon I might even feel a slight chill.

Six hours later, at 12:30 am, a cooled-off dude walks out of Harbavaz [The Duck], with a smile on his face and shekels in his pocket. Sometimes doing the dishes can be the best job in town.

By Jean-Jacques

Loosely based on actual events in 2002

Published in: on June 1, 2008 at 9:20 pm Comments (5)
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Equality

My friend Michelle of Crows-Feet has invited me to participate in Standing Women Day, May 11, 2008. She explained that it’s not a gender specific pledge, so here’s what I stand for:

Is Equality attainable?

I believe that becoming aware of inequality is one step closer towards the ideals of equality:

I have met some of the wealthy and well educated who could not see past their own status, class or ego.

I have met poor or humble intellectuals who self-educated to high levels of knowledge and experience, but who would never be given equal recognition in the work place without proof of a formal education.

I have met some religious folk from various religions who seemed to not show all that much compassion for those outside of their own religious community.

I have met some non-religious folk or agnostics or those who consider themselves to be atheists or who did not believe in any god or wasn’t sure, but who still had compassion and natural empathy for others, regardless of their religious or spiritual affiliation.

I have been to a country where all people were regarded as equal in relation to race and gender, but not in relation to religion.

I have lived in a country where all religions were regarded as equal, but ethnicity and race were used to categorize people into a hierarchy of haves and have-nots in relation to rights, jobs, education and assets.

I have lived in a country where a transformation process towards equity requires re-integration in all spheres of life, yet many of the previously advantaged choose emigration.

I have been to a country where every person is equal and every person is working class, according to the political system. Every person has access to free education and health care but they are unable to reach their full potential in terms of business and entrepreneurship and are barred from emigration to seek out better lives for themselves elsewhere.

I have worked in countries where foreigners are often treated as outsiders and where they will always find it harder to get good jobs which pay as well as those for citizens.

I know of countries where foreigners from affluent countries are elevated to higher positions in society, and earn more respect and better salaries than those who were born there.

I know of countries where people are born into caste and class systems which would determine their entire lives and futures.

I have lived in countries where you are born free, but where you are “enslaved” by the economic system and where only a few will rise out of working class into affluence.

I know of families treating their own members as outsiders or outcasts and I know about how friendships can sometimes become stronger than family ties.

I have met those to whom these paradoxes are obvious and those who are oblivious by choice. I know that some believe it has always been this way and can never change.

I’ve also met some who believe that humans are currently in the process of entering a new phase of consciousness and that we are definitely moving forward.

I believe that although we can see inequalities in every sphere of daily life, much of it has to do with our egos and perceptions about ourselves and misconceptions about others. In the social, economic and political sphere we can see that local, regional and continental systems are not at the same point at the same time, but are slowly converging in terms of knowledge and awareness. I believe there will always be cultural differences, but there will be more equality in terms of human rights in the future.

I know that massive historical strides have been made towards ethnic, gender, language, racial and religious equalities and I believe that’s all part of a slow, but systematic, positive process, linked to our progressiveness as a species. I am aware that the path is not without major upheaval and that the human race will be facing major obstacles in the near future, but I believe it is all part of the convusions of transformation.

I believe that becoming aware of in-equality is one step closer towards Equality:

By Jean-Jacques

COUNTRIES USED AS REFERENCE POINTS FOR THIS PIECE: SOUTH AFRICA, ISRAEL, NORTHERN IRELAND, CUBA, UK & EIRE.


I stand for Equality. What do you stand for?

Please join us on Sunday May 11, 2008 at 1pm in solidarity with women all over the world or post on your blog about what you stand for and feel free to post your link.

You can visit standingwomen.org for more information about the event.

Published in: on May 11, 2008 at 7:43 pm Comments (6)
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Travelosophy

Early in 2004 I was about to start my first blog. I had already been on the road for a few years and I was trying come up with an appropriate name. It had to describe quite closely what traveling really meant to me. I knew that I was getting from it much more than just visiting places, seeing things or meeting people. At the time I was practicing a “work-your-way-around-the-world” style of backpacking, which meant that I was prepared to do virtually any type of work in order to get to almost any destination, as long as it was away from home and it would lead to more destinations - an approach very far removed from a city-break, a 10 day tour, or a three week seaside vacation. “Work-your-way” is also not quite the same as doing projects or youth programs such as a gap year or volunteering. Neither is it pure economic migration or permanent immigration. It’s ongoing backpacking which might over time incorporate many, if not all of the above, as the hybrid process of extending the journey systematically continues.

I was starting to think of myself as a “modern day gypsy”. Something had happened along the way which provided me with a deeper purpose, but trying to define what it was remained elusive. After playing with words for a couple of weeks I came up with “travelosophy” which sounded a bit like my favorite on-line flight booking centre, but it was original with a very different meaning. A few months later I posted “Practicing Travelosophy” and I would now like to expand a bit more on that theme.

Introduction:

Nomadic tendencies are often instinctive and have been around for as long as humanity itself. Travelosophy has been around for as long as people have been thinking about nomadic tendencies. After all, for some, to travel is to be. The word Travelosophy is not in the dictionary. Should it be? What is a synonym for Travelosophy?

What is Travelosophy?

The search for balance and understanding through movement and knowledge

The quest for wisdom through the process of travel

The art of long term travel and reflection

Insight gained through extensive travel and applied in understanding everyday life and the world we live in

A physical journey lived as an essential part of an individual’s life journey and spiritual journey

Practicing Travelosophy

Travelosophy is an educational approach to travel through immersion. The travelosopher experiences a destination by spending an extended period of time there. He or she lives among and works with the people. He remains informed about current affairs and has a keen eye for observing all aspects of the culture he temporarily resides in. She possesses a natural balance of respect, tact and sensitivity towards local customs and practices. He is a stereo-type-breaking investigative reporter of sorts who explores beyond the obvious to break the mould of common knowledge. She is independent and is usually not affiliated with any ideology, group or cause. He works for him self and therefore takes the time to observe, to understand and to reflect. Travelosophy is an art form which will often leave the artist broke and exhausted, but always fulfilled. It is usually an incurable addiction.

Is there a spiritual side to Travelosophy?

The process of moving and having to constantly adapt and learn leads to a higher sense of self and world awareness. This may promote an appreciation of the mundane, the norm and the usual, on a higher level, which culminates in a fundamental understanding of how the process of growth is facilitated by energy, exposure, survival, experience and motion. In essence a state of enlightenment can be achieved, through the gritty struggles and knocks of live, multiplied and enhanced by the process of continuously changing physical and social environments. By displacing the self from comfort zones, fixed abodes and the hording of material possessions the travelosopher is freed from excess baggage.

Who might become Travelosophers?

See: Going the Distance”

What does Travelosophy mean to you?

What is your Travelosophy?

By Jean-Jacques

15-04-2008

A Man on a Bicycle

It’s a wind-blown Saturday afternoon in Belfast, Northern Ireland. A new restaurant called Ratz, with an international theme has opened on Bradbury Place. The display menu boasts a wide variety of exotic dishes from around the globe. The exterior has an attractive sand blown, glass fascia, with a world map etched large onto it. Above the door, a sign reads in bold italics: “Intercontinental Brasserie“. I’m peering through the gap between Africa and Asia to have a look at the décor, when a voice next to me suddenly says: “Anything good on the menu?” I turn to my left and stare into the crystal blue, inquisitive eyes of an unknown stranger. They belong to a man; who is middle aged and slightly dishevelled with longish, unkempt blonde hair and an unshaven, tanned and slightly wrinkled face. He’s wearing a two piece, dark blue rain suit and he’s pushing an over-used, blue bicycle. Over the handlebars hang an array of white, crinkled plastic bags, the contents unidentifiable. “Oh, it looks pretty good” I decide to answer cautiously. “Not too sure about their prices though…”

“So where are you from”, he asks, with that familiar thick Belfast accent, the emphasis being on a slightly drawn out “you”. “Southern Africa, originally.” “From far away then” the man replies slowly and pensively. “Do you read much?” It’s an out-of-blue question and I respond somewhat evasively, not too sure what to make of it. “Some. When I have the time”. The man persists: “What is it that you like to read?” After a flash mental scan I recall one or two books which I had recently more or less worked my way through. I decide to mention a philosophical novel and a popular psychology title - the type of reading you could find at any local charity store or high street book seller. He listens attentively and I notice what seems to be a kind of perceiving, analysing quality to his gaze. Then, with a smile he says: “My name is Clarence, and what is yours“, “They call me Jack around here.” Well, you sound quite well-read, Jack.

“Clarence’s bicycle is blocking the way slightly and a well dressed, elderly couple steps around us, while carefully glancing him up and down. “Reading is just a hobby of mine, I guess.” I say. “Oh, there are worse hobbies to have” says Clarence matter-of-factly. Have you ever heard of a book called Time Journeys, a Search for Cosmic Destiny and Meaning? It’s a good start to get you interested in physics and the possibilities of time travel. It’s by a man called Paul Halpern. Or, alternatively you could try The Arrow of Time by Peter Coveney and Roger Highfield. The tag line reads: A voyage through science, in search of Time’s Greatest Mystery!” Clarence becomes animated as he continues. “Think about this: Why is it that time moves forward, but not backwards? A slight pause. Did you know that Einstein once remarked: The distinction between past, present and future is an illusion? If so, Jack, should we consider time-reversibility a possibility?” Raised eye brows. “So, subjectively we interpret time as uni-directional, right? But, if the concept of chaos shows us that the future is open, it also points to the past being open, which means it would not result in an arrow of time.” Short pause. “So in theory we should be able to go back in time. Or maybe, we should ponder the possibility of a safety-mechanism having been built into the universe, to deny us from doing exactly that!”. Expectant look.

Slightly stumped, I say: “Erm, well, I couldn’t say, Clarence, but those are certainly very interesting points to ponder. I’ve always enjoyed a good read and a good think, but don’t really get much time for it these days.” “Ah, a modern conundrum Jack, but life experience and reading are the keys to wisdom, and unlike experience, reading is free.” Clarence reaches into one of his plastic bags and brings out a pack of booklets with yellowish and blue covers, banded together. He removes one, returns the rest, turns the booklet over and starts scribbling something on the back with a blue ball point pen. “Now, if that’s down your alley, you might also want to seek out a book called The Frontiers of Complexity by Roger Highfield. It deals with how complexity relates to evolution, ecology and cosmology and even touches on artificial intelligence. Very insightful. While speaking, Clarence jots down the titles and authors as he continues: “Another title worth mentioning is Hyperspace: A Scientific Odyssey through parallel universes, time warps and the 10th dimension. It’s all in the name. You can find it right here in the city library - in fact all of these books are there - this one is in the science category on the second floor, in the back aisle, it should be on the 3rd or 4th shelf, on the left - I think. It’s written by Michio Kaku, a Japanese writer”.

More people walk around us and Clarence moves his bike out of the way to prop it up against the wall, while using the seat to press on, as he continues. “But those are all very scientific, Jack. Equally interesting and depending on whether you have the time…” broad smile. “Aye, more on the human side of things, I could recommend The Quark and the Jaguar. It’s about human adaptive systems, like language, culture, creativity, consciousness… aspects of human learning systems which are constantly in a state of flux. There’s even a section on our world ecological dilemmas with questions about sustaining a future for the human race and the biosphere. For instance: Can man naturally re-adapt to a more harmonious balance with our planet? Considering how modernized and industrialised we have become? Quite topical wouldn’t you say.”

I’m about to respond to Clarence’s question, but our voices are drowned out by loud engine noises as a bus draws up. The now more blustery wind tugs at the hair and clothes of the disembarking passengers and causes leaves to roll and skid audibly along the pavement. A disposable paper cup lid, with a straw through it, lifts off, spirals upwards, gains altitude, and floats past us, then changes course to head up and away across the road. A couple of shops down from where we stand, in our direct line of sight, is a popular greasy spoon with heavenly smells of fried fish and chips. This and the gnawing hollowness in my stomach confirm my decision to cross the five meter divide to fast food gratification after our conversation. The Intercontinental Brassiere would have to wait for another day. Some of the bus’ passengers enter The Plaice, the double-decker pulls off and Clarence’s voice becomes audible again:

“…you ever heard of electro-acupuncture, bio-resonance and scenar, Jack?” I shrug a definite no. “Okay, now this is real ground breaking stuff. You can read about it in Virtual Medicine. Its an overview of how ancient practices such as Chinese acupuncture and others are now being harnessed and integrated with electronic technologies. So, these new devices are in effect cutting edge, virtual, and holistic healing systems - the perfect marriage of the traditional and the modern! Amazing, really. Here’s some background -Scenar was originally developed for the Russian space program and what it does is it teaches the body to heal itself by using what they call biofeedback. What’s astounding is that it can actually read the body’s energy and then help to predict or determine and also cure diseases. Now, until recently this might have been considered quite alternative or new age, but it’s all becoming mainstream. The researcher and author is a doctor by the name of Keith Scott-Mumby”

Clarence has filled an entire page by now and he turns the booklet over. “Here Jack, let me pose another question: Might there possibly be a link between quantum theory and consciousness? I mean, would you say that consciousness could possibly be scientifically explained or interpreted?” I must be looking very perplexed, because Clarence says: “Oh aye - if you’re ready for a real paradigm shift, then read a book called The Quantum Self. The writer makes a case for quantum processes being directly responsible for our subjective awareness.” A long pause. “That one certainly got me thinking too. Well worth a read. Also, keep an eye out for her other book, Spiritual Intelligence or SQ. She proposes that we all have a natural higher consciousness which may be laying dormant and unexplored within ourselves, and that the first steps towards activating it is to become much more self-aware of our place in the universe and our necessary interaction with nature. “Could you please make a note of the author, Clarence?” I ask. “Certainly, it’s by Danah Zohar.”

“I was thinking of getting dinner soon, Clarence. Would join me? We could continue our conversation over a meal and a mug of tea.” Big smile. “Oh no, Jack. Thank you. I’m well fed and had something just before I left. I’m not going to keep you too long. I have a few more people to meet today, but let me jot a few more titles down.” Moments pass as Clarence continues to make notes in the empty spaces on the third page of the booklet. “Before I forget, Jack. Since we’re on the subject of food, sea-food for that matter, I’ve got to mention The Omega 3 Connection by Andrew Stoll. I’m sure you’ve heard how fish oil is considered to be excellent brain food, but there’s much more to it. Omega 3 is the ticket to mental health, for anybody and everybody. It should be part of our regular staple diet and the research in this book proves it. Keeping in mind, that amongst other near magical traits, it has the ability to restrict Alzheimer’s from developing and has proven very effective in treating depression”.

“How long will you be in Ireland for, Jack?” “Oh, it’s indefinite for the moment, Clarence. I haven’t decided yet.” “Okay, there’s a book here in the library you simply shouldn’t miss out on. It’s called Ingenious Ireland. Mary Mulvihill took six years to put it together. It’s a fascinating county-by-county tour of the island of Ireland. It covers everything from history to inventions, mysteries and myths, fossils and discoveries and science! You’ll need to spend time with it though as it has about 500 pages. Short pause. “Well, there you go Jack! So now you know exactly what to read on your travels. When we meet again, maybe you can suggest some reading material for me… and when you’re in a far-off destination next time, send me a post card, will ye? I’ll put my address down here for you.” Realising that our impromptu meeting is soon coming to an end, I say: “I definitely will Clarence and thanks a million for this, I mean it. It’s been absolutely fascinating.” “No, no need to thank me Jack; this is just what I do - for the community, you know. I was diagnosed with a condition a long time ago, which might have affected my ability to lead a normal life. But, I was advised to read as much as I could, all the time, to help me focus my mind. It worked, Jack! It was my salvation and we don’t need to suffer from an ailment to read, do we? Besides, what we choose to focus on is what we become aware of…”

“Well, that’s me Jack! I’m off. Clarence hands the booklet over and climbs on his bike. All the best! Browse through the rest of that booklet when you get a chance. Everything you need to know about British Bonds is in there. The best returns for your money - and you stand a good chance of winning a prize every month too - I’ve won a few times!” he says looking back, as he cycles off on his way up University Avenue. I turn the booklet over and see: “N&SI Premium Bonds, 50th anniversary. Pick up your Anniversary Prize Draw leaflets to find out more.” Well, there’s something to read so long while I tuck into my fish and chips.

By Jean-Jacques

Loosely based on an event in 2005. Names have been changed.

Independence of Thought

Strong Coffee
-
The ability to think freely could prove to be more important than a high level of intelligence…There is apparently more than one type of natural IQ, although conventionally only one type is measured.

Others are emotional intelligence, social intelligence and spiritual intelligence. There may well be more.

Independence of thought is not a natural ability and without it we could be limited in our perception.

Unrestricted thinking can be achieved to a certain extent, but might take years to accomplish, once we have become self aware for the need to do so.

After all we are products of our own cultures and societies with distinctive education and belief systems, which have obvious limitations and natural biases.

The bigger the picture, the more angles and points of view can be considered and the more nuanced a person’s thought processes might become.

Independence of thought can be attained through critical factual analysis, investigative research and an openness to the consideration of diverse opinions and points of view.

But first we need to become aware of the need to become aware. Critical thinking is the key.

J. J.

Published in: on February 3, 2008 at 10:11 pm Comments (2)
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Krzystoff & Bogdan

Krakow Flags and Statues

I’m standing on the access road of a German motorway, close to the Polish border. I crossed over about an hour ago by train and got a ride from one of my fellow passengers. It’s absolutely freezing and I reflect on how I’ve misjudged the sting of an early October, Central European winter. Cars are speeding past me and I vaguely recall being told by someone that in Germany hitch-hikers don’t often get picked up. I also realise that I won’t be able to stand around in these low temperatures for much longer!

Another car speeds past and deep in thought, I do not realise that it has stopped about 200m down the road. Until it’s horn blows. I grab my overweight backpack and run as fast as my stiff legs would carry me. The possibility of the car pulling off as soon as I approach is always a possibility - a famous trick. As I come closer, I notice that it’s an old style Ford Granada 3.0 litre with flashy alloys. A tall guy with unkempt black hair, wearing faded jeans and a black leather jacket climbs out as I approach on the driver’s side. As he addresses me in German, understanding some Dutch helps me to guess the question and I reply in English that I’m heading towards Frankfurt. The following day, I had to catch a Euro Lines coach from Frankfurt to London. “I am Bogdan”, he offers in a strong Eastern European Accent. “OK, we not go Frankfurt, but you come”. As he gestures to load my bag into the car’s boot, I notice a dark figure in the passenger seat. I also notice a pink rug on the dashboard. I rip my Lonely Planet guide from my backpack before the trunk gets slammed shut.

I slide into the back passenger seat, behind the other person who is bald and has a leather skullcap and a black leather jacket to match. When the co-pilot turns slightly and nods, Bogdan introduces him as his brother, Krzystoff. I don’t see any resemblance. Apprehensively I think to myself that I have no idea where I’m going to, I’m in a “dodgy” car by German standards, and as far as I can see, I have two very dubious companions… Still, it definitely beats getting frostbite by the roadside!

Bogdan pulls off with determination. Krzystoff lights three Polish cigarettes and with a gruff, “you smoke!” hands the first one to me. As he turned, I notice the complete lack of hair in his face and on his arms. As if a mind reader, Bogdan offers some information: “Krzystoff he work(ed) close to Chernobyl, so he loose hair”. The cigarette is damn strong, but I appreciate the gesture, since I desperately need the nicotine hit. Polish music starts up as I flip through my guide to find the section on language and translation. I make an attempt at asking simple Polish questions, of which half they understand, but conversation warms up and remarkably, we manage to learn a few things about each other. They are both builders who cross the polish border once a month to do work on German construction sites. The Deutsch Mark is the strongest currency in the region and the brothers manage to earn five or six times as much as their countrymen back home.

Soon we enter a large village. They have an argument about what seems to be directions, but eventually we enter an industrial area, which is totally deserted. The compound has 12-foot fencing around it and the guard post is empty. I gather that they were supposed to meet a business associate and that we have to wait. For a brief moment I feel nervous and realise that if something had to happen to me over here, no one would ever know… We all climb out to stretch our legs and Krzystoff hands me the fourth ready-lit cigarette. After about 20 minutes Bogdan kicks in the dust, mumbles something and starts the car. As we head out of town and onto the open road, Krzystoff produces a bottle of vodka-looking liquor with floating gold flakes. He breaks the seal and passes it to me with a “You drink, Jean, you drink!” The bottle gets passed around and Bogdan informs us that the Autobahn is just ahead. This part of the trip, they seem to have been looking forward to.

Everyone’s spirits lift and Bogdan asks me to remove a plastic container from behind his seat. It’s packed with Polish sausages, savoury snacks and sandwiches. I happen to glance at the speedometer, which is nudging its way to 190km/h. I think to myself that looks can deceive when it comes to old cars and I try not to think of a possible blow-out at this speed. A half an hour later we wash the last sandwiches down with Polish gold. Bogdan muses over the quality of the liqueur and Krzystoff lights-up more smokes.. Every time they consume something I’m offered some of it first and it seems to me that to decline would be a major insult.

I watch as the picturesque countryside passes by and suddenly I realize how exhausted I am. I’ve not slept properly for 48 hours. My trip from Poland to Germany was on one of the ‘normalijne’ trains, which get loaded to the brim, and if you board late, you end up sharing standing space in the passage with about 40 others. The night before that, I waited around a Polish train station, since sleeping on benches is prohibited. It was my way of saving a few Zloty’s, since I was running out of cash fast and avoided booking into a youth hostel. Bogdan must have noticed because he turns around and in a brotherly manner and says: “Jean, you sleep! Okay, you sleep!”

I wake up two hours later, amazingly well refreshed. The bottle of liquor is empty and the brothers seem unaffected by it. Krzystoff passes another cigarette and Bogdan informs me that they are prepared to take me all the way to their destination, Stuttgart, from where I can take a train to Frankfurt. My earlier paranoia now all of a sudden seems distant and must have been fatigue - induced. I accept gladly with a “dziekuje!” - thank you. We have left the Autobahn and are approaching a quaint village with a stunning mountain range as a backdrop. The brothers have another “bizznizz” meeting lined up and this time the client is waiting at a coffee shop. I get introduced as their friend from Afrika and am invited to join the table. After an hour of German shoptalk and politics over coffee and snacks, the wealthy looking businessman picks up the tab. Bogdan indicates that they want to show me something. We drive to a posh suburb where the brothers point their handiwork out to me. They actually specialise in the fine art of plastering design without using moulds. It entails little twirls, patterns and shapes that apparently are in high demand in Germany.

As we continue on the last stretch to Stuttgart, more scenery that is beautiful compliments the trip. Five hundred and something kilometres after Bogdan and Krzystoff offered me a ride; we stop at the entrance to the city’s main train station. Both brother’s climb out and I retrieve my bag from the boot. The quieter Krzystoff unexpectedly gives me a hug while good naturedly slapping me on the back, saying: “Jean! Our Brother!” Bogdan shakes my hand and bid me farewell and good luck. He hands me two packets of Polish smokes. I’m at a loss for words and realise that in their own peculiar way, these guys must be two of the most salt-of-the-earth people that I’ve ever met! I get my tongue back and thank them profusely.

Last minute advice from Bogdan, includes boarding the train without a ticket, as they rarely bother checking them on inter-city express trains. As I dizzily enter the station, I can feel a dull throbbing in the back of my head. I wonder if the Lonely Planet guide has included the German word for painkillers…

[Based on an event in 1997]

By Jean-Jacques

Published in: on January 8, 2008 at 10:23 pm Comments (2)
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Going the Distance ?

The word traveler covers a broad spectrum of people on the move. Most people associate the word with short term travellers, as in tourists or backpackers. Certain types of travellers would fall into a more long term category. They would practice travel as a lifestyle or as a necessity or possibly for a combination of complex reasons. Some would be members of the Traveller or “Gypsy” communities and are often from Roma or Irish decent. Their families would have been practising the Traveller culture for decades, if not generations. Others fall into a group which I like to refer to as Modern Gypsies. They would have taken up travel as a lifestyle, along the way of having a perfectly “normal” life. This would have happened due to circumstances, influences or events which altered the course of their lives. Alternatively their original short term journey might have been prolonged indefinitely, not necessarily out of personal choice or of their own making. Some of these individual journey-makers may have lost their way in the often harsh and difficult world which we call reality and would consider their personal journey nothing less than a struggle. Yet, other’s may have been influenced by a calling of a spiritual nature and have over time become pilgrims of life.

They may very well have started off as natural seekers, searchers and pathfinders driven by an insatiable desire to learn. Not all travellers on this path are at first consciously aware of the process they are participating in and will not always, eventually seek out the deeper meaning of their journey. They will be satisfied enough to simply experience “what they do” as an instinct, which drives them and prompts them to keep on moving, to keep on going, occasionally or frequently. Due to the escapist nature of the process of travel, it serves it’s purpose quite effectively and there would be no reason for further questioning. Regardless of the finer details of people’s traveller-lifestyles, it may not be entirely compatible with the conventional, survival-of-the-fittest, rat race, status orientated, materialistic, consumer driven, modern ways of thinking: Society does not always look kindly on such roaming and restless mountaineers and pioneers, which in turn could make it hard for said travellers to acknowledge to themselves completely, or yield entirely, to their own destiny, which was in the first place prompted by deeper inner forces.

It will not happen for everyone and indeed it will not need to. For some it will take longer than for others, but when it does, they will throw off the shackles of uncertainty; they will see themselves confidently and clearly and fully embrace their style of life, for the realization will be that it is simply who they are, who they have been, all along. There is the potential for any person, engaged in a personal struggle, to be naturally liberated through the course of his or her personal life-journey or while on the road, whether that journey may be spiritual or actual. Once they come onto their own, their lives and life-styles could reach an amazing sense of fulfilment as they gradually lose their sense of “being lost” and develop an understanding of their natural path. As they start looking forward by looking back, they start realising how their eventful life history, was part of their natural and unique route, written in the sands of time.

Often, people who have become “Modern Gypsies”, experienced some form of adverse event or events - sometimes during childhood and sometimes later on. They may have been forced off the tracks, unwillingly or unwittingly. When such events happen, those events could hold the potential key for a person’s spiritual awakening. That is not to diminish, at least in the short term, the painful effects of life’s greatest challenges. Due to its painful nature, the positivism of a negative event, may take time to filter through into consciousness. Therefore, inevitably, in life it is almost always a struggle first and a journey later.

By Jean-Jacques

(Written in late 2006, Northern Ireland)

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Published in: on November 4, 2007 at 10:29 am Comments (6)
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Mocha and Latte of Life

Strong Coffee

Life is like coffee - often filtered, sometimes bleak,
Instant at birth, rarely smooth and sweet
For the most part it can be a touch of bitter with flavour,
And still, its the strong coffee that many of us favour…

Gypsy Café


Published in: on July 31, 2007 at 7:48 pm Comments (4)
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