And so begins an isiXhosa story...
...such a very long time ago, in a place not very far from you, there lived a boy and girl. The boy, a farmer, planted all sorts of delightful plants - butternut, peas, mealies, tomatoes - and picked them when they were fat on the vines and stalks. The girl, who wasn't a farmer would none-the-less help the boy everyday in his plantings and pickings.
A few days after the start of this story the boy pulled the girl aside at the end of a particularly normal day and whispered a secret to her.
"I don't really want to be a farmer", he told her quickly, " I want to be a traveller."
The girl was excited and whispered back, "Well, let's go and be travellers, I will go with you and we can see everything and anything that we can only imagine now... Let's leave tomorrow!"
She made up her mind for both of them and that night they slept deeply.
Before the air could begin to warm the next morning, the boy and girl had vanished. I am unsure about how eary they left, suffice to say it was too dark for me to see anything. But by the time it became light enough to see they had left their homes far, far behind. Each carried a bag with a little bit of food, all their savings and a warm jersey. And at the heels of the boy a puppy trotted, almost too close but never quite bumping he's nose on the foot of the walking boy. The air warmed to its usual salty smells.
By the time they wanted to eat lunch they had left the tree filled place that used to be their homes, and they could only spy grass and trees for as far as their eyes could see. At the very next tree that they passed (which was not very soon as there were few trees) they sat and ate lunch. The puppy (whom we will call Pup for this story) was far, far too excited to stay still and after swallowing he's food in three and a half mouthfuls he commenced chasing his tail repeatetiously (Oh dear... please excuse absence of correct spelling in the case of absence of dictionary).
And not so very long after they had sat down to eat but a very, very old man sat down next to them, with a lazy eye and an oh-so-sad smile on his face. His skin, so very leathery, was covered on blue ink tattoos and his body was wrapped in clothes too big for him.
He sighed deeply when both the children looked at him and only then did he say anything and even that was filled with such sadness. He said he was tasked to help them but that he didn't actually know how much help he could actually give them. He said he had a bottle of sweet tea to give them, a magical tea that they could only use when they really, really needed it, otherwise it would not work as it was meant to. He sighed again, very deeply, at the end of his story.
...to be continued...
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked..." Kalil Gibran
10 DAYS OF SILENCE, 110 HOURS OF MEDITATION:
On the 24th of November 2010, at approximately 4.30pm, I lost all contact with the outside world. On about day 6 of the silent meditation retreat I thought back longingly to the above time and wondered why I had so willingly given up my books. Partly, I had thought that the management people at the centre would kind of "search" my bags for cell phones, pens, paper, books and other such items. Little did I know that I could esaily have kept one small book hidden in my bag. Ah the beauty of hind-sight.
For those who didn't know, from the 24th of November until the 5th of December I went on a 10 day silent Vipassana meditation retreat. It was probably by far the hardest thing I had to do. I needed it, a swift blow to end the studies and to bring me (rather rudely) into the next phase - the adventure planning. Let me give you a brief outline of the course.
4am - wake-up bell (rung again at 4.20 just incase you may have slip off to sleep again
4.30-6.30 - meditation on you own
On day one I was excited, eager, happy to get up. The sky is quite beautiful at this time of the morning.
6.30-7.15 - breakfast followed by rest until 8am
8-9 - group meditation in meditation hall (my best time to meditate I discovered)
9-11 - meditation in hall/room according to the new inscructions of the teacher (sometimes the new students would stay in the hall with the teacher, other times the old students would)
11-11.45 - lunch (WHAT?! NOT EVEN MIDDAY! i HAVE NEVER EATEN SO EARLY!) and rest
And then the hardest time began, 5 hours of meditation without rest...
And then a mercy break - tea, our last meal of the day consisted on popcorn, fruit and tea... 5-6
6-7 - group sit
7-8.15 - discourse - this was the longest amount of talking we encountered the whole day, a tele-recorded lecture where the teacher spoke about the theory and history and other issues about Vipassana
8.30-9 - Last meditation of the day (and then bed, thank goodness).
As said, day 1 and 2 were fine. Day 2, I tried to think if there was any way of running away - my cousin lives in Cape Town, not far from Worcester, and I toyed with the idea of asking for something from my bag, slipping my phone out and calling said cousin, telling her to tell the centre that it was an emergency and that I had to leave immediately. On day 3 if you had given me the choice of cleaning a male army barracks bathroom with a toothbrush, or more meditating, I'd most definitely have chosen the former!
On day 5 I'd rehearsed my speach to the teacher, to beg him to let me leave. I learnt that night that it is very difficult to get a coherant argument out while crying hard ;) that night I prayed - my mom and I have occasionally experienced telepathic moments and so I tried to send her messages to call the centre and tell them that I must leave now! Signal wasn't that good in the mountains!
And so I stuck it out, there were good points, and bad points but I learnt one of the main lessons there - nothing is permanent, neither pain nor pleasure and "This too will change". When I was at my lowest and thought nothing would change, it eventually did. When I got sick and thought the rest of the retreat would be passed in snot and sore throats, I observed (with a lot of pusing from the teacher) the cold arise and pass soon after. Also, when I had the best moments and was happy, these times too passed and I realised that it is true, that it is only craving and aversion that causes all the misery in life - if you have good, you always want good and when you don't get it you are depressed. When you have bad you can never seem to see any good and think you will be like this forever, and so you become more depressed. Or angry, or sad. And all you need do is realise that this too shall pass.
And so too now, shall this blog post pass, for long blogs make a person loose interest and I definitely don't want you, dear reader, to loose interest in my writing. For the next stage of the adventure, I will encounter snags, problems, moments of euphoric excitement and hopefully with some of the lessons I learnt on the retreat, I will let none get me down or make me crave the good only. The light always needs a dark place to rest.
P.S. excuse typos...
On the 24th of November 2010, at approximately 4.30pm, I lost all contact with the outside world. On about day 6 of the silent meditation retreat I thought back longingly to the above time and wondered why I had so willingly given up my books. Partly, I had thought that the management people at the centre would kind of "search" my bags for cell phones, pens, paper, books and other such items. Little did I know that I could esaily have kept one small book hidden in my bag. Ah the beauty of hind-sight.
For those who didn't know, from the 24th of November until the 5th of December I went on a 10 day silent Vipassana meditation retreat. It was probably by far the hardest thing I had to do. I needed it, a swift blow to end the studies and to bring me (rather rudely) into the next phase - the adventure planning. Let me give you a brief outline of the course.
4am - wake-up bell (rung again at 4.20 just incase you may have slip off to sleep again
4.30-6.30 - meditation on you own
On day one I was excited, eager, happy to get up. The sky is quite beautiful at this time of the morning.
6.30-7.15 - breakfast followed by rest until 8am
8-9 - group meditation in meditation hall (my best time to meditate I discovered)
9-11 - meditation in hall/room according to the new inscructions of the teacher (sometimes the new students would stay in the hall with the teacher, other times the old students would)
11-11.45 - lunch (WHAT?! NOT EVEN MIDDAY! i HAVE NEVER EATEN SO EARLY!) and rest
And then the hardest time began, 5 hours of meditation without rest...
And then a mercy break - tea, our last meal of the day consisted on popcorn, fruit and tea... 5-6
6-7 - group sit
7-8.15 - discourse - this was the longest amount of talking we encountered the whole day, a tele-recorded lecture where the teacher spoke about the theory and history and other issues about Vipassana
8.30-9 - Last meditation of the day (and then bed, thank goodness).
As said, day 1 and 2 were fine. Day 2, I tried to think if there was any way of running away - my cousin lives in Cape Town, not far from Worcester, and I toyed with the idea of asking for something from my bag, slipping my phone out and calling said cousin, telling her to tell the centre that it was an emergency and that I had to leave immediately. On day 3 if you had given me the choice of cleaning a male army barracks bathroom with a toothbrush, or more meditating, I'd most definitely have chosen the former!
On day 5 I'd rehearsed my speach to the teacher, to beg him to let me leave. I learnt that night that it is very difficult to get a coherant argument out while crying hard ;) that night I prayed - my mom and I have occasionally experienced telepathic moments and so I tried to send her messages to call the centre and tell them that I must leave now! Signal wasn't that good in the mountains!
And so I stuck it out, there were good points, and bad points but I learnt one of the main lessons there - nothing is permanent, neither pain nor pleasure and "This too will change". When I was at my lowest and thought nothing would change, it eventually did. When I got sick and thought the rest of the retreat would be passed in snot and sore throats, I observed (with a lot of pusing from the teacher) the cold arise and pass soon after. Also, when I had the best moments and was happy, these times too passed and I realised that it is true, that it is only craving and aversion that causes all the misery in life - if you have good, you always want good and when you don't get it you are depressed. When you have bad you can never seem to see any good and think you will be like this forever, and so you become more depressed. Or angry, or sad. And all you need do is realise that this too shall pass.
And so too now, shall this blog post pass, for long blogs make a person loose interest and I definitely don't want you, dear reader, to loose interest in my writing. For the next stage of the adventure, I will encounter snags, problems, moments of euphoric excitement and hopefully with some of the lessons I learnt on the retreat, I will let none get me down or make me crave the good only. The light always needs a dark place to rest.
P.S. excuse typos...
Thursday, November 18, 2010
End of Honours, Beginning of Un-Employment
Just under a week ago I wrote my last ever university exam that I will ever have to write. Unofficially-officially I am finished with a four year Anthropology Honours degree. Four years ago, four years seemed an awfully long time and I though I would be pretty sorted - have the world in the palm of my hand, have the world as my oyster etc etc. Suddenly, sitting here with (almost) an honours degree, I don't feel very world-holding, oyster-possessing. Suddenly my little degree feels very small in amongst all the big and growned up Masters, PhDs and professorships that is the academic world. And here is where I become a little stuck... What am I meant to do now? Supposedly I am meant to get a job, find a partner, settle down, have children ( I am a woman...) or alternatively, study further, get my Masters (and PhD), and in between this, still I must find a partner, buy a house, settle down, have children. Eish bhabha...
So I may have chosen a differen route, a little bit, just a tiny bit, of a more, well... different route.
Brace yourselves... are you ready? Here it comes...
I am leaving all and everything that I know - friends, family, a beautiful lover, dogs, further studying, marrying, settling down and children having (only 23, still have plently of time left for this) etc etc.
Yessssssir-eeeee! I am leaving all of this behind, selling of as much of my stuff as I can (you collect a fair amount living in a flat for two years), working like a demon in any way possibly (save selling my body, although only missing by a hairs breath) so that I can get enough cash, researching researching researching until my eyes bleed and finally packing a backpack and entering my first port of call - Mozambique.
What is all of this I hear you mumble, not quite wanting to believe the comprehension opening like a lotus blossom in your mind...
But it is true. I am leaving my home to go and travel in my beloved African continent for two years: May 2011 - May 2013. Maybe I am "running away", or "hiding", or "being irresponsible" or "foolish" or "unsafe".
For me (and really I am the most important person in this equation) the next two years are going to be a quasi- Rite of Passage. It is going to be my African Walkabout.
So I may have chosen a differen route, a little bit, just a tiny bit, of a more, well... different route.
Brace yourselves... are you ready? Here it comes...
I am leaving all and everything that I know - friends, family, a beautiful lover, dogs, further studying, marrying, settling down and children having (only 23, still have plently of time left for this) etc etc.
Yessssssir-eeeee! I am leaving all of this behind, selling of as much of my stuff as I can (you collect a fair amount living in a flat for two years), working like a demon in any way possibly (save selling my body, although only missing by a hairs breath) so that I can get enough cash, researching researching researching until my eyes bleed and finally packing a backpack and entering my first port of call - Mozambique.
What is all of this I hear you mumble, not quite wanting to believe the comprehension opening like a lotus blossom in your mind...
But it is true. I am leaving my home to go and travel in my beloved African continent for two years: May 2011 - May 2013. Maybe I am "running away", or "hiding", or "being irresponsible" or "foolish" or "unsafe".
For me (and really I am the most important person in this equation) the next two years are going to be a quasi- Rite of Passage. It is going to be my African Walkabout.
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