December 21: Are We Gone Yet?

It is the end of the world today.

Well, maybe not.  

Most likely just a normal December solstice.

Either way I am repeating the same questions I posed to friends and family as I did several weeks ago on the day 12/12/12 near 12:12 PM.  

On the Road

Once again an inspirational song.  Many year ago a friend of mine, let's call him Joe (because that's his real name) introduced me to a new band after mocking my old school musical tastes.  Yes he did.  So I updated my music library (much like I had updated my wardrobe and bra selection several years earlier....another story...) and have purchased every album/CD/digital release since.  Oh yes, the band is Keane, a harmonious group with poignant lyrics, musical speed, a baby-faced lead singer, and songs that encourage you to ponder and question life.  Great motivators.  Love them.  Thank you 'Joe'.

Here is one song called On The Road from the album Strangeland, about finding your own road of life and helping others down theirs.  



P.S.  Keane, stop touring Europe and the US.  Come to Canada, more specifically, Winnipeg.  Thank you.

Travel As A Political Act: Part 2

As I really did enjoy this book, I was even more impressed that a travel novel, written by an approachable individual with accessible language, finally presented many of the difficult topics that have been debated within the academic and practical spaces of tourism for decades.  One of the first papers I wrote for an basic introduction to travel class concerned the sex trade and the use of young girls in countries as captured sex slaves for the purposes of pleasing middle and upper class Canadian, American and European travelers in order to draw and increase tourism.  I believe my professor handed me back my paper and said, 'interesting topic'.  That was it.  I think he was surprised about the topic and the criticisms that were evident in the paper.  I wish I still had it, I would give it another read, redo and update as sixteen years later, these countries continue to enslave young girls, boys, women and sometimes men as sex slaves but now have begun to reward them and provide them with an understanding that they are contributing greatly to their country's economy in the best way they possibly could (even scarier really).  Well, in my opinion this is crap and the institutionalization of the poor and down-trodded through ideologies of slavery, misogyny and seeing women/people as sex objects, but I digress...again...

Rick Steves within the last chapter of his book Travel As A Political Act shares with following idea with the reader then proceeds to share a list of books he has read that has influence his opinions about the economics of poverty and the politics of power and corporations.  I am sure he would be OK with me sharing this quote and list (even though I don't know him at all personally) and I have added to each book title a link to the book, a related website, or the authors webpage.  Voila!:

"Read books that explain the economic and political basis of issues you've stubbled onto in your travels.  A basic understanding of the economics of poverty, the politics of the empire, and the power of corporations are life skills that give you a foundation to better understand what you experience in your travels.  Information that mainstream media considers "subversive" won't come to you.  You need to reach out for it.  The following are a few of the books that have shaped and inspired my thinking over the years" (p. 203):

Bread for the World

Arthur Simon

Food First: Beyond the Myth of Scarcity

Frances Moore Lappe

The Origins of Totalitarianism

Hannah Arendt

Future in Our Hands

Erik Dammann

Manufacturing Consent

Noam Chomsky

War Against the Poor: Low-Intensity Conflict and Christian Faith

Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer

Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes

Robert McAfee

The United States of Europe

T.R. Reid

The European Dream 

Jeremy Rifkin

(Click here for Rifkin website and foundation)

The End of Poverty

Jeffry Sachs

Several of these shall be added to my reading list as I have only read the last one while I was living in London.  Off I go...

Get Along

As I was living in Cleveland, Ohio attending high school I remember the Rodney King beating and subsequent riots in Los Angeles as one of my first racial, social justice and political lessons as I saw that life was far more complicated than I understood.  Many of us, from a distance, saw that there had been progress throughout the decades with regards to relationships between races, but we were reminded during this time that the institutionalized, systemic racism and violence towards black people (as well as towards many races and between races) continued.

Recently I was in a conversation during which two people told me that racism happens, sexism happens, homophobia happens, classism happens, it will always happen and there is nothing that can be done.  It is part of life.  Of course I completely disagree.  Racism is a choice.  Sexism is a choice.  Homophobia is a choice.  Classism is a choice.  Agism is a choice.  Colonial ideas are a choice.  An inappropriate comment, a joke meant to demean, and a conversation during which we blame people for their experiences the subsequent traumatic fallout.  It is important to look for, watch and name instances during which we see people making excuses for intolerant behaviour.  Some ideas, words, and comments are so often repeated within a group, society or culture, that they become institutionalized and we believe them to be truths (called doxa by sociologists and anthropologists), but when looked at critically, they have merely been repeated so often that we assume these ideas to be truths.

Most recently I had an individual direct several accusations towards me.  Thank you to some strong and intelligent individuals, we were able to limit his destructive and bizarre behaviour.  Several people told me that this was a case of sexism.  At first I balked at the idea and rejected this notion.  After a few weeks, and in hearing the word domineering directed at me from this person, I conceded.  Upon closer observation I realized that this individual has rarely seen women in positions of leadership, and most certainly is not used to and does not agree with a women reminding him of his responsibilities.  Part of his doxa has been men are leaders, women are not.  It was difficult for me to admit that this was a sexist experience because part of my doxa is women (although few) as leaders, women in authority, and women from whom I have received and accepted advice.   His inane and immature response to me, being in a position of leadership above him, has been an interesting experience.  Doxa's clashing I suppose.      

My experience is nothing close to the trauma and far-reaching aftermath of Rodney King's, but having seen, heard and talked about the LA riots twenty years ago, I am able to identify, as many are, that experiences that parallel his still occur and we each have a choice to contribute to racism, sexism, homophobia, classism, agism, etc.; make excuses for these types of behaviours; ignore these types of behaviours; or have the courage to name them as intolerant and work to remove these inequitable ideas from our societies as doxa which we will no longer believe.

"Long after I am gone, people will remember me saying, can't we all just get along."

Rodney King

Taken from Google images

I shall add his book to the words I want to take the time from which to learn.

Taken from Amazaon.com

Gonna Be An Engineer

Cattle research done!
Thesis version two, almost done.
Sharing another video, below.

Last year I took the Smithsonian Folkways: American Roots Collection CD collection out of the library.  What a treat!  So many songs I had never heard but were the backbone of folk music, one of my favourite genres.  There were some really cool songs to listen to, some really weird ones, and one that I need to share with you.  It popped up on my playlist today while working and it makes me smile.

When I hear the lyrics I pretend I am a hippie woman at a Folk Festival with my long hair braided (its never long enough to do that, but hey, let me have my dreams), a daisy chain around my neck, a flowing hippie skirt, and maybe even a tambourine gently beating against my hip.  A woman by the name of Peggy Seeger appears on stage with a simple guitar.  She says hello at the microphone and dedicates this to all the women in the audience and beyond who want more choices in their lives.  Access higher (or well) paying jobs, be acknowledged for their intelligence and gifts, for others to see and thank them for their public contributions to the community, be provided with the space to make healthy choices, and live a full life in and outside their homes.

It is a sassy little ditty.

This is for all my engineering female family and friends out there (all 8 of you), and all the rest of us living better lives due to the work, lyrics, marches, sit-ins, folk festivals and potlucks of the 1960's.

I am now in graduate school due to your work.

Thanks!

Out of Oz

Out of Oz by Gregory Maguire
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

My entanglement with the Wicked series began over a decade ago, and after reading the first instalment, Wicked.  I quickly began to spread the word of an author who took fairy tales we all knew, and provided a deeper story to reveal characters who ethics and morals governed their choices to reveal inner worlds that no writer had attempted to explain.  Maguire's ability to provide fictional, historical reasoning for the characters we all think we know provides the reader with brilliant insights into good, evil, bad, nice, decent, and all the other lessons fairly tales are meant to teach us.  Liir (Son of a Witch) and Brrr (A Lion Among Men) are joined by a host of characters as the story of Oz continues.  Caught in a war between Ozians and Muchnkinlanders, two key elements become the object of desire on both sides, Liir (or Rain) and the Grimmerie.  Even when these two objects are attained, Maguire does not present one side as good and the other as evil, the reader is left simply to follow the choices of each character, wondering what will be the results in the end.  A magnificent ending to a tale that has taken over a decade of my life, and introduced me to an author whose skill I deeply admire and characters that are complex and change with every experience.


One thing I do find difficult about Maguire's writing is that he mixes the fantasy world of Oz with real life references.  At times this is confusing as the two world's are so entwined that a word, a reference, or sentence is at hard to understand as I wondered if I had missed a pop culture or historical reference, or if I was back in a space of fantasy.  This made reading this book more complicated but I learned to press onward and enjoyed these works.

The parts of the book I want to remember:

"Prophecy is dead, and conscience is dead too...If there's no good conscience to trust...no Lurline, no Ozma, no Unnamed God, no standard of goodness, then we have to manage for ourselves.  Maybe there's no central girl in some hall in the Emerald CIty, all bronzed and verdigrised, all windswept hair and upthrust naked breast, lots of bright honor carved in her blind and focused eyes.  No conscience like that, no reliable regula of goodness.  So it's up to us, each of us a part.  A patchwork conscience.  If we all make our own mistakes...we can all make amends too.  No one of us the final arbiter, but each of us capable of adding our little bit.  We're the patchwork conscience of Oz, us lot." p. 182


"The sweet accident of coincidence is the best foundation on which to build." p. 407


"She would make no plan but this: to move out into the world as a Bird might, and to perch on the edge of everything that could be known.  She would circle herself with water below and with sky above.  She would wait until there was no stink of Oz, no breath of it, no sight of it on any horizon no matter how high she climbed.  And then she would let go of the book, let it plunge into the mythical sea.


Live life without grasping for the magic of it.


Turn back, and find out what that was like; or turn forward, and learn something new." p. 563

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Bois-des-Esprits or Spirit Trees

While I was walking last spring on the south side of Winnipeg, I came upon a beautiful neighbourhood in St. Vital with its own forest, the Seine River Greenway Forest.  It was a delightful day with leaves all over the path, children actually playing in the forest, small groups of people enjoying a walk.  I happened upon another woman walking by herself and we began a conversation.  She asked me if I had seen the spirit trees of the forest as of yet, to which I replied no.  She walk me deeper into the woods and there it was, the Bois-des-Esprits.    

Stunning multiple faces and animals.
Carved on both sides.

The same tree.
The other side.

This woman and I talked for a while as she gave me more advice of a few different places to visit in the city.  We parted ways and I continued walking out of the forest I spied several more faces that I had completely walked by, not realizing they had been staring at me and others along the path.  The faces were stunning, carved right into the trees, rough slices, with long whisky beards.      

Old tree
Old face

This was the last tree as I left the forest.  I took one picture, stared at the tree for a while, then realized that this was not simply a face.

Old tree
Old face
With a bit of extra

A view from below so I could capture the face's friend.

Sadly, someone committed an act of vandalism this past June and lit the largest of the trees on fire.  One wonders what pushes someone to light something so stunning on fire.  Sign of discontent.  This tree provided me with much content.  I hope people continue to enjoy it despite a part of it now being charred.  I shall continue to walk, talk with random strangers, and enjoy the outdoors.  I am thinking the Winnipeg Trails Association will help.  Love walking!
  

Kiss the Sunset Pig

Kiss the Sunset Pig by Laurie Gough
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Laurie Gough has a traveling spirit and is constantly moving away from a consistent, scheduled, routine life, always trying to find a place she feels is full of the exotic other.  Through her trip in a jeep named Marcia from Southern Ontario to California, she recounts not only her experiences on the road, but spends several chapters flashing back to her international journey's from years gone by.  At first, I did not enjoy her narrative as Gough's voice included a whining edge no matter her life choices.  As the story progressed, her narrative morphed from 'why me' to a courageous link of travel choices I would be hard pressed to make.  Gough demonstrates a consistent decision to avoid tourist traps in her traveling, instead, making choices to sleep in a cave on the beach for 6 days, sleep in a hollowed out tree for 3 nights, and to brave an unknown countries as she continually arrives with few plans or local contacts.  This type of traveling requires a true free spirit, a drive to understand different life experiences, and a trust in the goodness of human relationships.  In the end a good book which I did enjoy and whose stories have added a few places to visit or avoid in my own travel plans.


Best parts:


"Gazing at the faces of the fashion-conscious teens and the heavy-set parents pushing ice-cream-eating kids in strollers I long to see the face of a true eccentric, someone who doesn't belong.  But in this culture of sameness I can't find anyone like that.  That's something I love about outdoor markets, especially those in the developing world or in big cosmopolitan cities: eccentrics are everywhere.  The North American mall is one of the West's less enlightened ideas for only occasionally does the enclosed mall exude a noisy excitement of a meeting place.  Mainly, instead of being colourful, outlandish, and pulsing with life, malls are sterile; they smell like air freshener rather than ripe fruit, spices and sweat; the music is canned instead of live; and the people inside the malls seem bored, more concerned with buying the latest rend marketed at them than engaging in lively conversation." p. 98


"So there was a spark of light in that trip after all, a single moment asking to be remembered.  I see now that the easy road isn't the road to take to find that spark.  If we really want to find true beauty in their world, the road to find it can be full of ache, wrenching hurdles, heartbreak and potholes.  But it's the road we sometimes need, the one I needed to come across that little girl and her family on that forlorn island after the storm." p. 251  


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Laurie Gough's website:  http://www.lauriegough.com/

Walk to New York

Walk To New York by Charles Wilkins
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"However, if one thing more than any other attracted me about traditional notions of pilgrimage, it was the suggestion that the spiritual is not just of the air and of the unseen but of the earth underfoot, that there is a transcendent, if not mystic, power in the mountains and forests and waters themselves, and even in the streets of the city.  The idea that we absorb the best of the earth's energy through our feet is a correlative here - as is the notion that in dancing on the earth, the soles of the feet are a conductor between the energy of the planet and the spirit of the dancer.  All of this resonates with the Native belief that the entire natural world - rock, water, fire, wildlife, trees - is in some way an embodiment of spirit.  I have tended to resist the collateral belief that every pebble, pine needle, and raindrop has an individual spiritual essence.  But there is undeniably something redemptive in the knowledge that the sacred has earthly location and that...we are able to move physically toward spiritual destinations that are more elusive, more difficult to comprehend, when approached in the abstract.  If beyond locale and privation my walk bore the earmark of the old-style spiritual journey, in did so largely, I would say, in its provision of the chance to reflect, to rediscover, and to re-arm against the pressures and pessimism that are so much a part of contemporary life."  p.173-174

This is the last in a list of travel while walking books I have read over the summer and into the fall.  Walking is one of my secret past-times that I have revelled in for years as a form of solo exercise, and as an attempt to keep a connection to nature, which for me is restorative and healthy.  In his early 50's Charles Wilkins' life has fallen apart and he decides that he is going to walk from Thunder Bay, Ontario to New York City, New York a distance of 2,200 kilometres.  He needs to reconnect to himself and reconfigure his life goals, as does his friend whom he recruits, George Morrissette, to be his shelter and food seeker, as well as the driver during the evening hours.  George's life is equally discombobulated and he has spend the last 30 years living in Winnipeg, Manitoba after a quick and sad move away from New York in the early 1970's, as the city was becoming unaffordable and crime ridden in the area in which he was attempting to raise his family.  He has spent a lifetime looking back, trying to decide if he could have survived as an artist in New York rather than having made the choice to move back to Winnipeg.

During Charles' travels he speaks of the terrain, the history, the weather, his own thoughts and wonderings, which instills picturesque views of some areas and alarm at the weather he endures in others.  He meets a small group of people a long the way but truly spends most of his time in solitude placing one foot in front of the other, heading towards his goal.  Charles descriptive work was so detailed that I began to walk around my city for two hours at a time, wondering what I would notice, observe, see, think about and learn.  A wee bit of bonding betwixt me, Charles, my current city (Winnipeg) and nature.  If a book about walking can motivate an already avid walker to get up and walk more, it has succeeded in its goal of inspiring readers.  It is a quick read and worth your time as Charles draws you into his experiences and you feel a sense of healing as he walks and walks and walks.



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