How To Build Global Community
Think of no one as "them"; Don't confuse your comfort with your safety; Talk to strangers; Imagine other cultures through their art, poetry and novels; Listen to music you don't understand; Dance to it; Act locally; Notice the workings of power and privilege in your culture; Question consumption; Know how your lettuce and coffee are grown: wake up and smell the exploitation; Look for fair trade and union labels; Help build economies from the bottom up; Acquire few needs; Learn a second (or third) language; Visit people, places, and cultures - not tourist attractions; Learn people's history; Re-define progress; Know physical & political geography; Play games from other cultures; Watch films with subtitles; Know your heritage; Honor everyone's holidays; Look at the moon and imagine someone else, somewhere else, looking at it too; Read the UN's Universal Declaration of Human Rights; Understand the global economy in terms of people, land and water; Know where your bank banks; Never believe you have a right to anyone else's resources; Refuse to wear corporate logos: defy corporate domination; Question military/corporate connections; Don't confuse money with wealth, or time with money; Have a pen/email pal; Honor indigenous cultures; Judge governance by how well it meets all people's needs; Be skeptical about what you read; Eat adventurous!; Enjoy vegetables, beans and grains in your diet; Choose curiosity over certainty; Know where your water comes from and where your wastes go; Pledge allegiance to the earth: question nationalism; Think South, Central and North - there are many Americans; Assume that many others share your dreams; Know that no one is silent through many are not heard - Work to change this...
By Syracuse Cultural Workers
30 October 2008
Excerpts from my journal...
October 29th, 2008
A Mosaic
"She is a curious one, always with a question. For the most part she is confident, but she also has days of self-doubt. She longs, sometimes, for two opposites simultaneously - like the stability of a career, location or constant someone, yet the freedom of movement across continents. She loves languages and generating discussion between groups of people - especially across cultures and belief systems. She is a 'Jill' of many trades and probably a master of none. She's an avid outdoorsy type and interested in holistic healing - with food, massage and in building positive affirming relationships. She sometimes feels she objectifies past experiences. Most people seem to want an abbreviated version of a story and there is a tendency to regurgitate. Plus, she sometimes wonders to what extent people in Morrison County will understand. She loves to create and is hoping to further develop her drawing talents. Her number one goal within the next year is to finish writing her book; learning another language is number two. This is my self-portrait in its best sense. It is the essence of who I am as well as who I hope to become. I pray that I have the patience with myself and others to listen, growing compassion in my heart to love, and a joyful spirit of laughter for meaningful living."
October 30th, 2008
Freedom
"'I want to be free' she said. Then he said, 'What do you mean?' She responded with a whisper, 'to run with the wind, bike across a country, or swim across a sea; to follow a heart's spontaneous desire, or a lifelong dream; to communicate with worldly vernacular or through a common medium - like music; to let go of external expectations, and even stronger internal influence; to defy gravity - in its literal and figurative sense; to greet each morning with gratitude and each evening with even greater thankfulness; to readily forgive - others but more importantly oneself; to see beyond the paradigm; to be self-aware and see the bigger picture; to know that each one of us knows a certain something, and that something may be different from someone else, but, that someone else also holds an understanding, from which we could learn a lot. That is to be free...'"
A Mosaic
"She is a curious one, always with a question. For the most part she is confident, but she also has days of self-doubt. She longs, sometimes, for two opposites simultaneously - like the stability of a career, location or constant someone, yet the freedom of movement across continents. She loves languages and generating discussion between groups of people - especially across cultures and belief systems. She is a 'Jill' of many trades and probably a master of none. She's an avid outdoorsy type and interested in holistic healing - with food, massage and in building positive affirming relationships. She sometimes feels she objectifies past experiences. Most people seem to want an abbreviated version of a story and there is a tendency to regurgitate. Plus, she sometimes wonders to what extent people in Morrison County will understand. She loves to create and is hoping to further develop her drawing talents. Her number one goal within the next year is to finish writing her book; learning another language is number two. This is my self-portrait in its best sense. It is the essence of who I am as well as who I hope to become. I pray that I have the patience with myself and others to listen, growing compassion in my heart to love, and a joyful spirit of laughter for meaningful living."
October 30th, 2008
Freedom
"'I want to be free' she said. Then he said, 'What do you mean?' She responded with a whisper, 'to run with the wind, bike across a country, or swim across a sea; to follow a heart's spontaneous desire, or a lifelong dream; to communicate with worldly vernacular or through a common medium - like music; to let go of external expectations, and even stronger internal influence; to defy gravity - in its literal and figurative sense; to greet each morning with gratitude and each evening with even greater thankfulness; to readily forgive - others but more importantly oneself; to see beyond the paradigm; to be self-aware and see the bigger picture; to know that each one of us knows a certain something, and that something may be different from someone else, but, that someone else also holds an understanding, from which we could learn a lot. That is to be free...'"
08 October 2008
A story sent to me by good friend, Robert Skinner
Gorilla Tracking in Bwindi Impenetrable Rainforest
I still cannot believe that I went to Africa without a pair of pants. I did go shopping before I left, but I was distracted by a camping espresso maker, and forgot all about the pants.
I tried buying some at the Owimo markets in Kampala. But it was not a success. As usual, I forgot to try them on before I bought them, and when I got back to the hostel I almost severed a testicle trying to pull them on. They made me look like a giraffe going through an awkward puberty. They were, in a word, ridiculous. The pants bothered me. How does one get rid of a pair of pants? I had no idea what the etiquette was for this sort of thing. It didn't seem right to throw them away, especially in a place like Africa, where so many people are in desperate need of pants. But they were ludicrous pants and no-one wanted them. I could think of nothing else to do with them, so in the middle of the night, I snuck outside in the cover of darkness, hung them on the clothesline and checked out of the hostel.
After 14 hours on a bus, I reached Bwindi impenetrable rainforest. I was here to track mountain gorillas. This would be, I thought, the highlightof my trip. Possibly even my life. But on the morning of the big day, the people at the hostel told me that there was no way, absolutely no way in hell, that I would be allowed to track wearing shorts.
Frantically, I ran back into my room and went hunting through my bag. There was only one alternative. I don't even remember packing them - I certainly had no use for them - but there they were, wrapped around my beloved espresso maker to protect it during transit. I would have to wear my thermal underwear.
I couldn't believe it. This one grand moment of my life. This intertwining of dreams and ambition. The event that would forever mark my passage through time. And I was going to do it in my underwear.
There was nothing for it. I struck out for the border of the national park. Villagers everywhere stopped what they were doing and stared. I'm not sure what the Rwukiga translation is for: "I think that man is wearing only his underwear"...but the tone is unmistakable.
At the national park the rangers looked me over. "Why is this Muzungu not wearing any pants?" I tried to look proud and defiant, but it is a hard thing to do when you are talking to grown men in your underwear. "These are state of the art trekking trousers" I said indignantly. They laughed a deep African chuckle. "Where are you from?" they asked. "Australia." "Aaah" they said, "We understand."
I still cannot believe that I went to Africa without a pair of pants. I did go shopping before I left, but I was distracted by a camping espresso maker, and forgot all about the pants.
I tried buying some at the Owimo markets in Kampala. But it was not a success. As usual, I forgot to try them on before I bought them, and when I got back to the hostel I almost severed a testicle trying to pull them on. They made me look like a giraffe going through an awkward puberty. They were, in a word, ridiculous. The pants bothered me. How does one get rid of a pair of pants? I had no idea what the etiquette was for this sort of thing. It didn't seem right to throw them away, especially in a place like Africa, where so many people are in desperate need of pants. But they were ludicrous pants and no-one wanted them. I could think of nothing else to do with them, so in the middle of the night, I snuck outside in the cover of darkness, hung them on the clothesline and checked out of the hostel.
After 14 hours on a bus, I reached Bwindi impenetrable rainforest. I was here to track mountain gorillas. This would be, I thought, the highlightof my trip. Possibly even my life. But on the morning of the big day, the people at the hostel told me that there was no way, absolutely no way in hell, that I would be allowed to track wearing shorts.
Frantically, I ran back into my room and went hunting through my bag. There was only one alternative. I don't even remember packing them - I certainly had no use for them - but there they were, wrapped around my beloved espresso maker to protect it during transit. I would have to wear my thermal underwear.
I couldn't believe it. This one grand moment of my life. This intertwining of dreams and ambition. The event that would forever mark my passage through time. And I was going to do it in my underwear.
There was nothing for it. I struck out for the border of the national park. Villagers everywhere stopped what they were doing and stared. I'm not sure what the Rwukiga translation is for: "I think that man is wearing only his underwear"...but the tone is unmistakable.
At the national park the rangers looked me over. "Why is this Muzungu not wearing any pants?" I tried to look proud and defiant, but it is a hard thing to do when you are talking to grown men in your underwear. "These are state of the art trekking trousers" I said indignantly. They laughed a deep African chuckle. "Where are you from?" they asked. "Australia." "Aaah" they said, "We understand."
31 August 2008
Fugit hora!
Six weeks in Japan have passed in a flash and I pause to recall a stream of memories. The photos below depict some of the highlights - of Rin, one of my students at ASIJ's Summer Day Camp (SDC) getting a piggy-back ride from his little brother; a Mohawk-leather jacket-kilt combination I saw on the streets of Harajuku, Papersky's CD release gig in Shibuya; a trip to Sendai for a Rakuten Eagles baseball game; and an evening out with Makoto in Aomori. Intangible images etched to mind but visually inaccessible for anyone else include: time spent in Melanie's veggie patch digging through dirt planting lettuce and spinach seedlings, a starry midnight stroll through Nogawa park listening to a cicada orchestra with Brian Taro, and a fresh pasta culinary pursuit that left everyone a bit beyond a sated state.
While I've already spent a considerable amount of time in Japan, each visit I continue to try to discover more about myself and my relationship to the Land of the Rising Sun. It's a place with space for the unpredictable - I went to a Persian restaurant one night for a birthday party and found myself in a crowd of belly dancers and cloud of hookah. Before I knew it I was dressed head to toe in a blue netting dress, arms were extended and I was swinging my hips too. In a culture that is most often reserved I delight in moments of boisterous spontaneity.
Japan is also gentle. There is a peaceful spirit that guides interaction, an existential harmony that accompanies day-to-day life. It is a quality I hope to consistently embody in whatever culture and company I find myself in. I saw this gentleness in the eyes of Kasai-san when she spoke about her horses, in my students' smiles at SDC when exchanging stickers, and while watching Take-san's shiatsu massage care with his clients. I tell him he has magical hands.
Tomorrow I'll leave Japan and fly to Seattle. My next adventure in life will be at Holden Village, a retreat center in the Cascade Mountains where I'll stay for the rest of September. It'll take trains, planes, automobiles and a ferry to get there, but I'm betting it'll be well worth it. My next post in early October will share the story...
While I've already spent a considerable amount of time in Japan, each visit I continue to try to discover more about myself and my relationship to the Land of the Rising Sun. It's a place with space for the unpredictable - I went to a Persian restaurant one night for a birthday party and found myself in a crowd of belly dancers and cloud of hookah. Before I knew it I was dressed head to toe in a blue netting dress, arms were extended and I was swinging my hips too. In a culture that is most often reserved I delight in moments of boisterous spontaneity.
Japan is also gentle. There is a peaceful spirit that guides interaction, an existential harmony that accompanies day-to-day life. It is a quality I hope to consistently embody in whatever culture and company I find myself in. I saw this gentleness in the eyes of Kasai-san when she spoke about her horses, in my students' smiles at SDC when exchanging stickers, and while watching Take-san's shiatsu massage care with his clients. I tell him he has magical hands.
Tomorrow I'll leave Japan and fly to Seattle. My next adventure in life will be at Holden Village, a retreat center in the Cascade Mountains where I'll stay for the rest of September. It'll take trains, planes, automobiles and a ferry to get there, but I'm betting it'll be well worth it. My next post in early October will share the story...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)