Showing posts with label Middle East. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Middle East. Show all posts

6.19.2020

Coronavirus Communique: Saturday May 20.2020

Bom dia,

Eu preciso de practicar meu Português mais tão estou escrevendo em Português só hoje. 

Eu acordei cedo para exercicio fora, antes que fique muito quente. Já está 31º C as dez horas... Minha caminhada foi pacífica. Depois eu fui direito para o ginácio. Agora me sinto relaxado tomar meu cafe no meu lanai na sombra.

Estou ouvindo reggae música a partir dos meus amigos sala de estar na Hawaii. Isto é, claro, de um computador.  Cada semana eles fazem videos para que todos possam desfrutar.  É muita masa! Eu sinto que estou de volta ho Havaí. Eu posso ouvio os sapos ('coqui' frogs- a very bad invasive species to Hawaii) no fundo.  Eles vivem na selva (jungle?) é, bem, isso me faz saudades para os trópicos.

Tem sido séculos desde que eu ouvia reggae parece...

Hoje eu vou continuar cortar tecedo para fazer um vestido de verão.  O tecedo tem bolinhas brancas em um fundo azul.  Felizmente, eu tenho dois mais semanas gratis de trabalha!  Recentemente, um ano atrás, eu comprei uma máquina de costura é tem sido último para costurar novamente.

Na verdade eu tenho minha amiga, Denise, de agradecer pela insperação. Eu a conhecí há trente anos em Santa Cruz, California.  Ela é o melhor!  Ela costumava tem um atelier chamada 'Wild Thing' e eu trabalhei lá. Foi na praia no Capitola Village. Ela me ensinou sobre a vida & estar feliz em tudo. Também, ela me ensinou a amar a música jazz.  Agora ela está vivendo no Surf Beach, Austrália e tem seu estúdio de design em casa.  Ontem, ela me disse que ela vai me fazer um vestido!  Então, eu escolhi um estilo e tecedo.  Ela só usa tecedo com Aborigional impressāo. 

Aqui está a sua informacao para a 'Etsy store', se chama 'Global Vibe' dela:

https://www.etsy.com/shop/globalvibe?fbclid=IwAR0-EetNXqwhQhUC1nAKraAL6f5lF3WXmW22EZRAeJNuIglYO8FkXiX3kqI

 E uma foto de nós: Ela visitou-me e meu namorado e sua familia no Hawaii para as férias.
Hippy chicks. Denise e eu na manha de Natal no Maui. Eu não me lembro o ano...

Voltar a Português...

É muito difícil para mim entender Português... Eu posso escrever e ler muito melhor do que eu posso escutar.  Eu vou tentar ouvir podcasts Portugueses mais.  Minha nova coisa é ouvir Bossa Nova podcasts porque as palavras são cantadas mais lento. 

Isso é suficiente para hoje! Como é que eu faço?

paz


6.03.2020

Coronavirus Communique: June 4, 2020 Outward Bound Through Inner Journeys

Jazz jam session:
You guys if you wanna hear a cool jazz rendition of Peter and the Wolf, check it.  Oh, and the narration...

https://www.podbean.com/eu/pb-xspyt-d9a98f

This podcast episode features the New England Jazz Ensemble performing a jazzed up arrangement of Sergei Prokofiev's, Peter and the Wolf. Arranged by Walt Gwardyak with a hip "jazzbretto" (narration) by Giacomo Gates.

 The Odyssey continues.


 Funking on down Pak Ciry Parkway this morning:
the local wildlife; meow




BEE present
break on through to the other side
give me life

beautiful decay


support local businesses

(some of my) medicine

structure

form

sanctuary

weave

tension

harmony

ego
focus

I am healed. Again.

to-do list:
master:      Google Classroom
continue:   The High Mountains of Portugal
organize:   Tarot project
binge:        Orange is the New Black {yes yes, I'm late to the game}
foster:        Continental Portuguese
cultivate:   Health
liberate:     da kine




3.18.2018

Somber Sunday

Newroz! Spring has spring here in the K.R.D


My staycation here in Sulaymaniyah continues. I woke up yesterday with an ever-so-mildly-annoying headache *hangover?*. It certainly wasn't a 'wild' evening; I had some friends over and we just chilled talking story(ies) about Hawaii, Lebanon, and Australia respectively. We covered the world- the universe actually- right here from 35.5570° N, 45.4359° E,  Iraqi Kurdistan- affectionately known as 'Slemani.'

I had been wanting to visit various museums here in the city so staycation offers a perfect opportunity to finally chill out and check out the city (most days I'm skooling myself about 3 books deep into grammar tagging- yes you know, breaking down sentences into its most basic parts... *le gran sigh*).

So, here's the breakdown of my day:

First off is the bank. It's taking a long time to get * be approved for * a bank account here. What place does one have to be approved to give an institution money? First I needed my Kurdish Residency card to apply. That done, it's been over 2 weeks, and...

Walking into the bank, after a light frisking- either physically or with just a 'you good' nod, depending on who's standing guard at the entry. Banks are serious biz here folks. I stared at the machine for a few moments- it clearly offers English directions as well, but I still stare. Every time. I sit and wait for that number to be called and pass my time people-watching.

Not much happens as I relay my story to the bank lady. I'm just wondering if my account opening has been approved. It has been 15 days after all. Phone calls made, information received (takes 18 days), feel I have made a major accomplishment in this task in that I have had confirmation on what I had previously suspected to know... A secondary tidbit was that as I was sitting there with the teller (yes, civilized- we sit here and transact), two colleagues walked in! I already know people out and about in the city! Major score for sure. I'm surely becoming localized.

I have finally succumbed to the quite normal ritual of having phone credits with internet access. Yea, I know. Why did it take so long. It certainly makes navigating around much easier... This means that I have to carry around my phone in my hand. Feels weird, but I finally get to where I'm headed anyway- after a slight detour (I didn't believe the GPS). Or, it was just a difficult building to locate. After all, I had just arrived at the Amna Sukara...

The Amna Sukara is the old HQ building of the Iraqi intelligence agency, the Mukhabarat. Under Saddam's (Hussein) rule, it was a most dark chapter.

Here's an article with a decent explanation of what happened inside its walls. I don't really want to even talk about my feelings experienced there. It's darkness and this vibe washes over you as you walk about, your mind simply blown while reading the words- words from the brochure, words written on the cell walls from detainees there... Fuck, it's fucking heavy. Then, you see some sort of beauty in some pictures, in the refugee camps or something. Something catches your eyes, the surrounding hills, the camps, the close-up shots of the people, and you sense a beauty within, and there's just this feeling of... I don't know. You have a sense of guilt for finding something beautiful from this capture of dark history. Art. Art is healing, bittersweet, ugly, beautiful- all at the same time and so there is this arrangement of fucked up emotions that consume... That's the best articulation of words that I can muster up in this moment. Yea, read the article.

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/4w7dv9/sulaymaniyahs-main-tourist-attraction-is-a-torture-museum

Okay, now with some background, here is my eyefull:

the Hall of mirrors
selfie




notice.the.walls... 








something about irony and shit, coming out of the ammunition hall and all...
nothing like some fabric to put a smile back on my face though

I want...

So I'm deep in the beginning phase of my pencil skirt I'm knitting now so...


'Chemical Ali'; his desk...


After the darkness, heading out into the light

 Well, that certainly made for Somber Sunday. Wanting to readjust my kaleidoscope, I headed out on foot down to the Slemani Archaeology Museum.

https://slemanimuseum.org/

http://etc.ancient.eu/exhibitions/sulaymaniyah-museum-iraq/

Babylonian, Assyrian, Hurrian, Sassanian, Sumerian, Akkadian... Essentially it's a timeline extending back from pre-history up to the Abbasid Islamic Period. It's a sweet little museum packed full of history, and herstory. A volunteer came up to me, a local woman, and went around with me. She was clearly excited to talk about each piece. We had a great time, trying to negotiate words in both English and Kurdish. Heart swelling!

This was the perfect closure for my day of explorations! Yes, a successful Explorer's Club kinda day hitting up 2 museums. Satiated, I trotted off towards my favorite park, Bakhi Gshty. No sign of the South Indian and Nepali families that are there every Friday selling their homemade food, I trotted off towards the bazaar. I had one last item on my agenda- fabric cushions for my lanai (deck). I already knew where to go. BOOM. Fifteen minutes later, I'm cruising out with 2 sets of cushions in hand. I flop into a taxi and away we go.

Here's a little snippet of information on Sulaymaniyah, in case you're curious.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sulaymaniyah

In other relevant news, spring is here. My 2 indicators went into high alert this past week: First, my coconut oil is at its most PERFECT consistency right now. Not solid yet not oil, it's just right... Last, no more comforter for sleeping. Yep, just a sheet and a smallish blanket- my new favorite from Yosemite!

Last, sound vibes this morning provided by Gabrielle. Ah memories flood from back on Maui in the day when the group pumping out beats and dancing in the jungle until sunrise. Good shit.

https://www.mixcloud.com/djgabrielle/

Peace from Iraqi Kurdistan,

HollyMissBerry






























7.23.2016

whatever the problem, love is the answer

Someone just reminded me of this all-to-oft quoted phrase, "whatever the problem, love is the answer". I'm sure it nears a high level of statistics for top sound bite or meme for when shit-hits-the-fan situation involving most anything at this time in our lives. I should do a collocation search on this theory... Hmmm

When I think back to past summers, the past few years I've had a book or two I was reading that can be associated with that summer. Take last summer for example. As I was preparing to leave Bahrain I picked up a copy of Shantaram from the BSPCA thrift shop (Bahrain SPCA). First this is incredible because to buy books written in English in the Middle East (as well as Turkey or anywhere else in the region) is super expensive and also because it had been a title I've been wanting to read for quite a few years. Winning.  Usually when thrifting, you (I) always buy books but they are not necessarily titles that were 'on or near the top of my wish list'. I did buy a lot of books at that shop, but Shantaram stands out.

I believe it took me most of the summer to finish the novel, but it I was thrown back into the mix immediately upon returning to my last known read paragraph. India was on my radar because there were so many south Indians that lived in Bahrain so I was always exposed to foods, culture and other things Indian.  I had perhaps my most inspiring yoga teacher ever in Bahrain. I had the best and cheapest Indian food of my life in Bahrain. And I had so many pleasant encounters with Indians from all around their Subcontinent that it surely has endeared me to India and its people forever. It has in fact moved high up in position on my bucket list from my experiences in Bahrain. 

There is also an India that I think of when I think about my time growing up and growing wise on Maui.  Many of my friends had traveled there or was soon to. Friends of mine were of Indian descent as well. Whenever I think to these times on Maui, I think of how good it was living there and the spiritual enlightenment we were all going through and processing living there.  I think about Mana Foods (health food store in Paia) and how lucky we were to be able to shop there (and find a coveted parking spot as well). I think about yoga classes on Maui.  I think to all the times that I was living a pretty pure life with all these gifts I mention that, along with the natural beauty of Maui, created this elixir of life that is unbeatable- so far as I can tell from living in various places before and since Hawaii.  Not that India was a daily awareness of mine there, but i always felt some sense of wondering if my way of life on Maui was in any way similar to friends' experiences traveling there.

I guess I mean to say that I've always thought about India, and more recently Sri Lanka, as a place that could possibly have some sort of duplicity for my life as experienced on Maui; quality food, yoga, beach, warm weather, cheap fruit! At various times on Maui I'd be out with friends and someone would invariably be currently reading Shantaram. I think you are beginning to get the idea; India had some sort of pecking order in my life- regardless if I knew/know it or not. I'm not sure if I even understand what I've written in the past few paragraphs, but forage ahead I must...

Shantaram; it was nothing of the India that I have envisioned throughout my life, but I always knew existed. While reading, I was on various continents and in various countries.  I morphed along as the book was progressing; morphing in its own way independently yet contemporaneously.  There were parallels it felt.  I sensed a deep connection with the books characters and interactions. I don't care to get literal here and delve into the story-line, etc. You can look that up at your leisure.  I simply want to describe the interaction I had with this book and how it relates to last summer for me, for no particular reason.  There is no end point to this story here. I suppose only to say that it was somehow akin to a milestone in my life that perhaps I wasn't even aware of. 

I think fondly back to that book; those pages dog-eared to death (mostly because it took me months to finish it). I think about all the various things I used as a book marker as well and all the notes I took while reading that meant something in that moment. I also think back to the social media moments I experienced through posting about that book.  I heard from quite a few people who I haven't heard from in a long time and only keep in contact with through Facebook.  Some people commented about it I haven't even met yet, whose friendship only extends through cyber-space.  All these 'achievements' I write about is what I think about when thinking about Shantaram and last summer!

This summer my 'book' was "Birds Without Wings" by Louis de Bernières. I started this book in Kas on the Turkish Mediterranean when I was backpacking and camping in the spring.  I bought it at this bookstore I remember from my previous sojourn to Kas. You all that know me know that I almost always buy a book when traveling and many times it is about the history about the area, etc. My time spent reading that book consisted of beaches, boats, buses, airplanes, camping on beaches, hanging out at my campsite, etc. That book covered Turkey and Greece in Turkey and Greece. I feel connected to the soil of each place in reading that book- especially considering the sensitivities of the book's contents.

Annotations and anecdotes litter the pages now. Solo_ojo, whom received the book afterwards, likely is currently sifting his way through the book story-line, and my story-line on the sidelines. I immediately knew that he would be receiving this book afterwards so I started my story to him through the margins. I think about the trajectory, the lifeline of that book and where it will travel to; whose hands will turn the dog-eared pages, what countries or coffee shops or hostels or beaches will become a part of THAT book- all this, it stimulates me for some reason that I can't really describe. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure I need to. 

I thought that book would be THE summer book, but it's over, and I've moved on.  I didn't think I would. I remember thinking while reading how affected I was; how the book moved me; how I kept turning pages devouring the words with my eyes. I was so devoted to that book...

Now the seeds has been planted. A new book is rising from my cyber-social media spaces. There has been enough chatter about Ulysses from the oracle known as my Facebook page that I am compelled to search out (a free or cheap copy...).  Could it be due to "Brexit"?  I don't think so. Could it be a result of my time in Greece recently and the association with Odysseus (more association than one there folks)? I don't think so.

Speaking of Odysseus... it was he who reminded me of that oft-quoted phrase, "whatever the problem, love is the answer". He told me this morning in fact, when I needed to hear it the most. Anyone who knows of current news inside Turkey will know the context of my cryptic message here... 

Sometimes I forget love is the answer. Sometimes, after some time you think you know some things and can comment on these things you go ahead and do so.  Sometimes, though, it is not your place to do so- or with such authority. So one backs away and retracts to the comfort of one's den, as a predatory animal does when needing seclusion and in need of concealment. 

If you need me, I'm in my den pondering what does it all mean... Do I love books? Am I in love with the place I go to when reading books? 

8.29.2015

Istanbul's got my digits: S1, Episode 1

Istanbul’s got my digits… Season 1 of my new reality series:

So I begin my Istanbul journey.  I arrived, again, on August 24th. This time is different though.  I am an Istanbul’s got my digits…

So I begin my Istanbul journey.  I arrived, again, on August 24th. This time is different though.  I am an Istanbullu now. I am in awe that such a long-term goal has been achieved. Perseverance.

I first arrived to its shores in 2001, right after 9-11.  I came to visit L-fezz, who I went to University of Hawaii in Hilo with many moons ago.  I’ve often traveled back- especially since living in the region the past 6 years.  I even managed to live in Turkey during that time; Gaziantep to be specific.  That was a great achievement certainly, moving to Turkey, but it wasn’t Istanbul…

I’ve often wondered throughout the past 6 years about my collected belongings that have been housed in L-fezz’s various apartment basements.  My luggage has stories of their own to tell I’m sure.  Hanging out with rats and cats and other critters sharing their space.  They’ve weathered stormy winters, humid summers and idyllic spring and autumns certainly. 

In the courtyard of my new digs in Büyükdere this I contemplate.  It’s a splendid late summer morning and the garden kitties surround me. These kitties are a fortunate lot as they have a huge courtyard to laze about. There is no fear of foreign invaders I suppose- only other feral kitties wanting this to be their new address.

Popolo, as I call the sweet black kitty that purrs and follows me around begging for affection, has finally settled to the front of the chaise lounge I have made my headquarters (HQ) here.  One other cat I’ve names- boots/bootzie.  I’ve yet to figure out if male or female…Time will tell.  I foresee many coffee-infused mornings at my HQ.

I’ve been told the apartment building is an old schoolhouse for the Armenian Catholic church next door. Observing the brick/stonework of both exteriors it appears to be true.  The building feels like an old schoolhouse. Upon entering the top floor I always get the sense that I’m walking into a classroom as I unlock the door.  I see the other 9 classrooms on my floor as well… What I can’t figure out is why their ceilings were so large because they are all (small) 2-floor ‘loft’ apartments with the bedroom and bathroom being on the 2nd floor. More of this story to unravel as days pass for sure. I’ll have to improve my Turkish drastically so I can ask the security guards- all of whom are sweet and cheerful and eager to help regardless of linguistic persuasion. Google translate has been helpful as well as providing comic relief.

Istanbul , after all these years, has remained in my mind.  I never ventured too far off course, and always knew I would end up here one day.

    Oh wow!  The church bells just rang and all the dogs are singing an agitated chorus.  It is 9:30    am. I guess this will be my natural Sunday wake-up call…

For me, Istanbul was the lover I met that taught me so much about life, but had to walk out on.  Is wasn’t the right timing- for either of us… I kept coming back to Istanbul though, wanting more.  The feeling was reciprocal.  Istanbul kept luring me back with its secrets, its beauty, its debauchery. The feeling that I was straddling different worlds intrigued me. Istanbul was my drug of choice; I experimented with many drugs (Tunisia came close) but always stayed true to my preferred dose. Nope I never had a bad trip in Istanbul…

Living outside of the city center, so far, has been all I thought it would. Of course I’ve racked up a grand total of… seven days so far… I adore the Bosphorus and being right at its shores. I can walk maybe 500 meters and I’m at the water.  I love this.  I need this.  The Belgrade forest is my backyard. So far Büyükdere seems to be the perfect Bosphorus village, for me as my entire point to my Istanbullu experience.

Freedom.  I want to touch a bit on freedom. As I’m coming from a two-year stint living/working in the Middle East, I feel free with each step I take WALKING around the city.  I have missed ambulating certainly.  In the Middle East I was prisoner to my car, for many reasons; weather, no public transportation that was reliable, layout of the island(s) and proximity to places, etc. Mostly the place isn’t set up to walk, for most. I will say that the heat was oppressive. Never have I lived in a place where I hated the outdoors… Perhaps ‘hate’ is too harsh a word, but in retrospect I guess I safely hide behind this theory.

Yesterday is a great example of living out my freedom. Let me explain; I was on a quest to find Macrocenter in Yeniköy. Macrocenter is, I think, a gourmet-like grocery store that sells a lot of (expensive) organic produce/products. Google Maps told me it was 1.5 hours away from my current location.  There is a plethora of public transportation options here; water taxi, bus, dolmus, metro, taxi, etc. The route was to simply follow the Bosphorus, and it was a beautiful day.  So I set off and hoofed it until I met up with my destination.

It’s funny that the saying, “It’s not about the destination but rather the journey” proved to be true here.  While I did enjoy seeing organic yogurt and other such staples in my life, for a hefty price tag I might add, it was the journey there that delighted my senses.  The entire route is flanked by docks, marinas, parks and just open spaces with benches at nearly every hundred meters- sometimes even closer. 

Istanbullus take full advantage of the open spaces. I saw many a family just plopped down on the grass under a tree having a picnic.  Hoards of men and young boys dot the cornice with fishing poles ready for an entire day of adventure and food and family fun. Various places are swimming holes. Even with the swift currents there are pockets of calm. One thing I did notice was that it was mainly men swimming. I did see one old woman in a 1-piece partaking in the entertainment.  In one area of the corniche was a small community of sun worshipers that just set up shop right there on the pavement with beach chairs and laying out. This amused me to no end. I even noticed women sunbathing, albeit most didn’t have baiting suits on. Some surprised me though.

And THAT moon… Did you’ll get to see the Supermoon wherever you were at last night?  Trippy. Felt like a great omen for a great journey to a great city to settle into another new beginning!

NOTE: I have photos but don’t know if they will get posted with this post… I might surprise myself though and deal with the fuss :) 
 now. I am in awe that such a long-term goal has been achieved. Perseverance.

I first arrived to its shores in 2001, right after 9-11.  I came to visit L-fezz, who I went to University of Hawaii in Hilo with many moons ago.  I’ve often traveled back- especially since living in the region the past 6 years.  I even managed to live in Turkey during that time; Gaziantep to be specific.  That was a great achievement certainly, moving to Turkey, but it wasn’t Istanbul…

I’ve often wondered throughout the past 6 years about my collected belongings that have been housed in L-fezz’s various apartment basements.  My luggage has stories of their own to tell I’m sure.  Hanging out with rats and cats and other critters sharing their space.  They’ve weathered stormy winters, humid summers and idyllic spring and autumns certainly. 

In the courtyard of my new digs in Büyükdere this I contemplate.  It’s a splendid late summer morning and the garden kitties surround me. These kitties are a fortunate lot as they have a huge courtyard to laze about. There is no fear of foreign invaders I suppose- only other feral kitties wanting this to be their new address.

Popolo, as I call the sweet black kitty that purrs and follows me around begging for affection, has finally settled to the front of the chaise lounge I have made my headquarters (HQ) here.  One other cat I’ve names- Boots/Bootzie.  I’ve yet to figure out if male or female…Time will tell.  I foresee many coffee-infused mornings at my HQ.

I’ve been told the apartment building is an old schoolhouse for the Armenian Catholic church next door. Observing the brick/stonework of both exteriors it appears to be true.  The building feels like an old schoolhouse. Upon entering the top floor I always get the sense that I’m walking into a classroom as I unlock the door.  I see the other 9 classrooms on my floor as well… What I can’t figure out is why their ceilings were so large because they are all (small) 2-floor ‘loft’ apartments with the bedroom and bathroom being on the 2nd floor. More of this story to unravel as days pass for sure. I’ll have to improve my Turkish drastically so I can ask the security guards- all of whom are sweet and cheerful and eager to help regardless of linguistic persuasion. Google translate has been helpful as well as providing comic relief.

Istanbul , after all these years, has remained in my mind.  I never ventured too far off course, and always knew I would end up here one day.

    Oh wow!  The church bells just rang and all the dogs are singing an agitated         chorus.  It is 9:30 am.  I guess this will be my natural Sunday wake-up call…

For me, Istanbul was the lover I met that taught me so much about life, but had to walk out on.  Is wasn’t the right timing- for either of us… I kept coming back to Istanbul though, wanting more.  The feeling was reciprocal.  Istanbul kept luring me back with its secrets, its beauty, its debauchery. The feeling that I was straddling different worlds intrigued me. Istanbul was my drug of choice; I experimented with many drugs (Tunisia came close) but always stayed true to my preferred dose. Nope I never had a bad trip in Istanbul…

Living outside of the city center, so far, has been all I thought it would. Of course I’ve racked up a grand total of… seven days so far… I adore the Bosphorus and being right at its shores. I can walk maybe 500 meters and I’m at the water.  I love this.  I need this.  The Belgrade forest is my backyard. So far Büyükdere seems to be the perfect Bosphorus village, for me as my entire point to my Istanbullu experience.

Freedom.  I want to touch a bit on freedom. As I’m coming from a two-year stint living/working in the Middle East (Bahrain), I feel free with each step I take WALKING around the city.  I have missed ambulating certainly.  In the Middle East I was prisoner to my car, for many reasons; weather, no public transportation that was reliable, layout of the island(s) and proximity to places, etc. Mostly the place isn’t set up to walk, for most. I will say that the heat was oppressive. Never have I lived in a place where I hated the outdoors… Perhaps ‘hate’ is too harsh a word, but in retrospect I guess I safely hide behind this theory.

Yesterday is a great example of living out my freedom. Let me explain; I was on a quest to find Macrocenter in Yeniköy. Macro center is, I think, a gourmet-like grocery store that sells a lot of (expensive) organic produce/products. Google Maps told me it was 1.5 hours away from my current location.  There is a plethora of public transportation options here; water taxi, bus, dolmus, metro, taxi, etc. The route was to simply follow the Bosphorus, and it was a beautiful day.  So I set off and hoofed it until I met up with my destination.

It’s funny that the saying, “It’s not about the destination but rather the journey” proved to be true here.  While I did enjoy seeing organic yogurt and other such staples in my life, for a hefty price tag I might add, it was the journey there that delighted my senses.  The entire route is flanked by docks, marinas, parks and just open spaces with benches at nearly every hundred meters- sometimes even closer. 

Istanbullus take full advantage of the open spaces. I saw many a family just plopped down on the grass under a tree having a picnic.  Hoards of men and young boys dot the cornice with fishing poles ready for an entire day of adventure and food and family fun. Various places are swimming holes. Even with the swift currents there are pockets of calm. One thing I did notice was that it was mainly men swimming. I did see one old woman in a 1-piece partaking in the entertainment.  In one area of the cornice was a small community of sun worshipers that just set up shop right there on the pavement with beach chairs and laying out. This amused me to no end. I even noticed women sunbathing, albeit most didn’t have baiting suits on. Some surprised me though.

And THAT moon… Did you’ll get to see the Supermoon wherever you were at last night?  Trippy. Felt like a great omen for a great journey to a great city to settle into another new beginning!

NOTE: I have photos but don’t know if they will get posted with this post… I might surprise myself though and deal with the fuss :)



Well, church is over as the bells just rang again... Time to head inside and eat some breakfast :)

4.12.2015

April Showers Brings May Flowers?


Perhaps you can't tell from the picture, but it is oppressively hot as well as engulfed in a sandstorm in the 'hood



I smell it in the air.  I taste it in my mouth.  It swirls around my feet... Yes, I just woke up this Monday morning to another sandstorm... Fortunately FaceBook Oracle told me all about it in advance as many friends in UAE & Saudi were already posting about the impending arrival here of another sandstorm. Thus meaning that I managed to close all windows before the storm hit... I don't usually manage to do that so I feel I'm already winning.  This year we've been getting hit by quite a few.  I don't remember this happening last year- at least with this frequency and intensity.

Speaking of intensity... I'm headed to the Formula One races this weekend here in Zallaq!  Again this year a friend is working the circuit so giving up his tickets to us :)  Again this year I do not have binoculars... Fortunately they are pretty decent seats situated above and near the 1st bend in the track. We saw some good action last year from those seats.  Not that the races themselves isn't thrilling enough, but the people watching is equally entertaining.  I mean, you see jewel-encrusted people there.  You see thobes with diamond cuff-links.  You see abayas dripping in Swarovsky crystals.  You also see a lot of normal looking peeps too... You will also see Starr, Dot and myself!  Hopefully the sandstorm session will be over.  Did I mention that Pitbull will be djing?  I'm looking forward to that as I'm a kinda-fan...

Last Thursday- that was the day. That was the day that the weather 'broke'. It was a definite feeling of the rise of temperature.  It seemingly went from high 70s to high 90s overnight. Everybody noticed it and talked of it.  I held off with the air conditioning until Saturday evening... Now, though, air con will be a constant I fear.  This is how the rest of my time in the Middle East will be spent- going from one air con environment to another air con environment, etc.

I managed to get back in my yoga routine at BaYoga. Just going inside that humble yoga shala makes me realize how much I will miss it.  It's such an easy vibe and no one is there to babble about yoga, etc.  Everyone is just into their practice, and then they leave.  Although, this past week I noticed some new people and a few in particular kept talking.  There is a point in class where there is kind of a little break and our teacher walks around and gives us adjustments, etc. Usually if you opt out, or don't take them, you just sit in meditation or Child's Pose, etc.  These girls decided it was time to talk-story as if they were at a cafe or something.  I don't know, but I thought it was incredibly rude.  Perhaps they just don't understand that yoga isn't simply an 'exercise' but a deepening of development to quiet the mind, as well as the body.  I let it temporarily affect me, but then I decided that I needed to become unaware of it and just let it go.  I guess I decided to turn the situation into a lesson for myself in my own personal development of quieting my own mind! 

I am amazed though as Friday morning class is always full, but on Saturday mornings sometimes I'm the only one or there is one other person.  This Saturday there was another guy and myself. I always enjoy this class as instruction is so personalized.  I hadn't seen him before, but he looks like he will be a regular and is pretty dedicated to his practice. Our teacher had us strike up some rather complex asanas that took some mental/physical preparations to gear up for.  At one point my mind tried to take over.  I said, "Abelish I can't do this pose today", as I fell over. He did not falter for a moment.  He simply waited (signaling me that I was going to try again) and casually said something to the effect of, "Yes you can.  Don't tell yourself you can't."  What happened next?  I nailed the asana- right before I tilted over again!  It was Pigeon Pose variation(s) that looked like this:




It's amazing how one's mind can control one's body.  You don't even realize it and live your life like this.  I'm being dramatic, but to express my point.  It just hit home for me that my mind was resisting what my body could fully do, and I don't know why.  I don't know why both my mind and body weren't working in unison to bring me happiness.  Why did it take someone else to tell ME I could do it?  Well, that is a cerebral question with a cerebral answer... The lesson (re)learned is that you can do a lot, but you have to train your mind.  This is what a lot of people don't realize about yoga.  You are training your mind as well as your body.  It is discipline.  It is intense.  It is light-hearted.  It is the union of body and mind- yoga.

I  remember being burnt out on yoga a few years back- when I was still back home on Maui.  It wasn't the practice, but the perception of yoga that was starting to annoy me.  I kept hearing in many different classes with different instructors stuff like, "Keep it yummy" or "Doesn't that feel delicious", etc.  There was always this talk of 'heart-felt', etc.  I mean, yes okay but do we have to talk about it.  we KNOW it.  I just felt like so much superficial talking was going on.  I just wanted to deepen my practice and to do it in a group setting.  There was only one instructor that gave me this peace of mind where I could just be.  I could drown out all sounds and have my practice. This was at the House of Yoga and Zen.  Perhaps it's because of the nature of Ashtanga Yoga itself in that it is a specific routine that one flows though holding each pose for only 5 seconds.  You flow so fluidly that there is no time to let the mind wander, in my humble opinion.  As well, there is a way to channel one's energy into the body and give up the mind.  There simply isn't enough time for the mind and body to communicate together (meaning that the mind has no time to try to convince the body that something can't be accomplished).  I don't know, but it was at this point that I realized I needed to explore a deeper practice on my own.  I say this because I could not practice Ashtanga every day- as is needed with that branch of yoga- because I was always up early and working archaeology jobs on construction sites so couldn't make the 7am classes.  I could only make Sunday morning classes. 

That was also about the time that I moved to Tunisia so my practice had to go 'underground' so to speak.  Same thing as when I moved to Southeast Turkey.  I had to develop my own home practice, which is not an easy thing to do.  I still battle with it, and am fortunate enough here in Bahrain to have access to some great yoga classes.  It is freeing.  It is liberating.  I really missed the interaction of open classes- even though we are not necessarily interacting with each other during practice. At one point yesterday morning the teacher was adjusting Spencer and I was watching how he was adjusting (every yoga teacher is always fascinated with how another teacher gives adjustments) him.  We both caught eyes briefly and it was just a pleasant exchange.  That is all.  He was nailing the pose and I was excited and he was feeling elated I could tell.  It was just a tiny moment of sharing something together yet totally separate.

My friend Angie had friends visiting from North Carolina this past week so they had a full fun-packed schedule of events that I tagged along with for some.  Probably the highlight though was finding Farheen- an Indian woman originally from Bombay that lives here and does a kick-ass job of henna application, as well as teach yoga!  I'll check out her yoga classes soon enough, but I am really impressed with her henna designs.  She does it at her house and is just a wonderful person with a sweet vibe.  There were 5 of us so it was a full evening of henna, food and talk-story.  My kinda evening indeed.

Here I am at my beach after yoga class on Saturday reading my book.  Yes, I'm the only person 'on the beach' in terms of a towel on the sand... A beach culture Bahrain is not!!!
a traditional Bahraini-weaved basket I got from a cool old man at the Capital Mall Artisan Collective.  He gave me a bunch of freshly-picked sprigs of basil.  Smelled delightful! Oh, also my beloved Alfonso Mangoes- which are to-die-for

I'll end with some other pictures of various hoods in Bahrain that I frequent and find fascinating

This is towards South Sehla. This hood holds lots of "BBQs"

This is in Al Hajer.  I go through here to take a short-cut to get back on the freeway when I want to avoid Budaiya Highway


The pet store where I get catfood is nearby to here

On the way to Starr's villa- in Al Hajer village.  I really like this village


an unfinished mosque in Al Hajer.  It seems work was stopped on it a few years ago, right after work started on it...


By the way, April showers are non-existent here in the Middle East...