Abacus
14/5/2008
Now I really feel like I've Worked - with a capitol W. The time on site was again pretty enjoyable, though of course physically draining, and we also met Freddy's beautiful son. But it's after that that things started to get frustrating: since building volunteers only work mornings, Caroline has found us other jobs to fill the afternoons. I blithely said I'd do whatever was most needed, which turned out to be... the accounts :-S. But, although there probably would be too much empty time without a second job, there isn't quite enough time to do as much of this as I'm supposed to comfortably.
The routine goes something like this - work finishes, then I race up the hill (which is something in itself), wolf down lunch, rush a shower (or rather a scoop-and-bucket, but it doesn't roll of the tongue so well), then race off to Caroline's for accounts. Of course I then arrive hot and bothered, ruining the point of the shower. I then leave Caroline's house with just not enough time to get to the next stage, pretty much regardless of what the next stage is, and it's not unreasonable to say that my first free time of the day (having woken up at 6:15) is about now. My watch says 22:30.
I don't mean to whine, though - for instance, how many people have a 45 minute commute as rewarding (even if demmanding) as ours? Will described it well when he said that, no matter where you look, you feel like you're in a National Geographic photo. And things should get a little easier tomorrow, since I've taken the accounts home to save the half-hour's walk to and from the boss' house. That probably means I'll end up doing them all weekend, but so what if I do - I'll still be looking out at the top of the world as I do. I promise you your accounts cant look anything like this good :-P
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Rocks
13/5/2008
Today involved quite a lot of them. The first hour-ish of work we were simply moving lots of large rocks from one pile to another. We also learnt the difference between good rocks and bad rocks (the bad ones are kindof quartzy. The really bad ones look like rocks, but when I've carefully placed them into the wall Freddy picks them up and they crumble into earth. I felt quite the fool.) Then we discovered the different uses for big, dry rocks and little, wet rocks (also known as concrete). So we feel like Real Men ;-)
I also felt like we got somewhere today - the foundations were filled with appropriate rocks by the time we left, and one of the walls was up to about a foot (using flat-edged rocks). Tomorrow, I suspect, more rocks :-D
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Faces
12/5/2008
Ok, I promised that I'd try to introduce my main players, so here goes. I'll start with those living at the highest altitude, and work down :-) Up at Mzizma live Tom and Vic. Both are post-uni (both took law degrees) and about to go into legal practice. There's a theme of lawyers throughout, for reasons we've struggled to get to the bottom of. Vic, now I come to think of it, gives little of herself away, though she doesn't come across as shy or aloof. It may simply be that I haven't had the right conversations - when we arrived the teachers had been together for 2 weeks, and were probably sick of making introductions.
Tom is the only bloke teaching, and is a big hit with the kids (most of whom are failing to learn Go Fish from him). He also has an uncanny knack for bullshitting, so his pronouncements have to be taken with a little caution.
Next stop down you reach Carol. Carol's parents took the £10 ticket to Australia when she was 7, so she's more or less an Aussie. She's also bringing a good deal of experience and skill with her, since she's been teaching primary school in Oz for many years - although admittedly the kids there are supposed to be speaking the same language. She's known to many of the kids as Mama Carlo, which has a delicious Mafiosi ring to it.
Next stop is Miranda and Sybil. Miranda is, I think, quite a lot like me: it was she who tried to organise us all into meeting before we came here, which show's a need to feel prepared that I definately share (as anyone who's seen my travel plans every time I do more than catch 1 bus will attest). She's also pretty nervous around new people, to the extent that it was almost a running joke when we arrived, though I think I hide it better than she does ;-) Sybil, or Sybubu, is probably my closest rival for baby of the group (age-wise, I mean. I dont want to cast aspersions on anyone's emotional layout, least of all mine). She's also the best of us for Kiswahili.
Then we have the new arrivals - newer even than I. Fi came today, so is something of an unknown quantity - she's an RAF medic, only not in Afghanistan on account of some broken ribs. So she's neither teaching nor building, but working in the health post for a few weeks before she's sent off to the sandpit. Will turned up over the weekend, and (since for a long time we were the only 2 signed up to build, and exchanged a couple of emails) he was the one I knew most about before I came - though even that was very little. Now though I almost feel that I know less. He's another fresh out of law school, and (having been travelling for 7 months already) is full of stories. Perhaps we'll exhaust his supply in a while ;-)
The lowest of the Yamba volunteers live at the Dr's house - myself and Tahmour. I refuse to describe myself, but T (he went for that after discovering that the villagers had all sorts of trouble with his name, a decision I perhaps should have made myself) was a last-minute addition to the building team. I first heard about him the day before I left, when Pod told me I'd be coming off the same plane as him at Dar. I worry a little that he may be struggling to fit in - certainly I havent found it easy to chat with him, and he seems to be on the phone home at most opportunities. I hope I'm wrong.
At this level I should also introduce Clemencia, our housegirl (VA tried calling them housekeepers, but I'm told they preferred housegirl). She's great fun, and will tease you mercilessly if you give her a chance, but she looks after us really well. No idea how we'd manage without her - I mean that sincerely.
I told you these people were owed space - perhaps I'd better stop now, and introduce everyone else another time. Now I'd best get some sleep to recover from today - which, he says in passing, went really well. I actually felt like I was getting properly into the swing of building today, a stage I didn't quite reach last week. Tough going, but ever so rewarding.
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Back
11/5/2008
I never quite explained where I was going. Our first weekend away was to Tanga these last couple of days, which perhaps explains the adrenaline/alcohol fueled scrawl which was Friday's entry. But it seems perhaps that trips away wont be very conducive to writing. I have the excuse of being a little differently chemically aligned on Friday, but Saturday I just didn't think of it.
I'd always expected that the weekends away wouldn't leave me with such a sense that I needed to tell the world everything that was going on, so I had planned to do a quick pen portrait of the main figures in my little adventure. I realise that I've already referred to people without introducing them, but I trust that you're a smart enough audience to pick things up as you go along. However, I still intend to introduce people properly at some stage, for the simple reason that they're good and I think interesting people. But not tonight. Bright and early tomorrow, to get to work for 8, so now is sleep time.
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
TIA
9/5/2008
Public health warning: the following post was written when I was a little drunk and very over-excited...
No sane person would ever have done what the 6 of us did tonight, but T!I!A! If you dont know what it means then you weren't there, and therefore you wouldnt understand even if I explained it. And if nothing else, I can add to the list of things I've done "get kissed by an arab man you met in a toilet".
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Sourcerer's Apprentice
8/5/2008
Dunno whether you kow the reference - I think it predates the disney Fantasia, but perhaps not. Anyway, I found myself in a pretty similar situation to the autonomous mops - I'm sure that after a while I was whitewashing over bits that were already as whitewashed as they'd ever be, simply because none of the builders knew the magic words to tell me to stop.
Eventually someone decided we'd finished the room, with some time to spare. For once T & I weren't the only ones taking the rest of the day off :-) Apparently the work down at the garage was on the groundbreaking stage when they paused to come up here, and they've just hit the bedrock. So on monday morning I shall be breaking rocks in the hot, hot sun, despite having been very good and never fought the law once. And this is a man who contrived, this afternoon, to achieve 3 blisters in the course of an hour's rubbish-pit digging. Hey-ho: I never said I was coming here to be comfortable.
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
I like...
6/5/2008
Today was mostly spent learning how not to fall victim to malaria, AIDS, or any of the other topics in the risk assessment pack - yes, just cos we're in Tanzania doesnt mean we don't get to do the same fun things as you back home. I can also more or less find my way between a couple of the key chunks of village, though on the way back from Caroline's house (she's the boss of Village Africa, in case you were wondering) we were thoroughly lost within a few minutes and had to pick up a 12-year-old guide. Unfortunately he took us to Mzizma, where most of the teachers live, but I hadn't the heart to tell him that we wanted to be at the doctor's house.
As an aside, the doctor's house is rather sadly named. It's right next to the school, and used to be the teacher's house, but the villagers decided that what they really needed was a doctor. The teachers I think all had other places to go in the village, so the house was made available to try to attract a doctor. VA have renovated it, too, but thus far - no doctor. And that is, in a way, fair enough: a doctor working in Lushoto or Korogwe could probably see 70-80 people a day, whereas the 2 nurses at Yamba health post see 10 or 12. But any doctor's reading this... even a couple of weeks'd be great. PoD.
I've also learnt that I'm allowed to like butter but I don't like jam. I also like mummy, but I don't like dad. And I like villages, but I don't like towns. It's somewhat easier to understand when written, so I wonder if any commenters can tell me things which, on this basis, they like and dislike. Tho please don't say why, as that would just rob everyone else of the satisfaction. I particularly like good food, but not bad wine.
Tomorrow, we'll actually start working!
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
If I were to die
5/5/2008
If I were to die right now, I'd be able to say "God, what a ride. What a ride"
Mike Yaconelli
And that was just the car trip to get here... First bit of the day wouldn't make riveting reading - woke up, caught bus, bus broke down, bus broke down, got off bus, met John and Edmond. Then we found out what off-road driving is really about - and, I suspect, why Toyota Landcruisers have such a reputation for indestructibility. Despite the fact that John was doing 110kmph (c. 70 mph), I still managed to fall asleep on that journey... My body clock is fucked....
Met 4 of the teachers in Milingano, which they're finding hard to get used to (the 9 of them spent the last 2 weeks together, in Yamba). Had just long enough chatting with them to realise that it's a shame I wont see them all that regularly - it's a good couple of hours drive and walk from Mili to Yamba, and of course to cover the full sylabus for the kids there, the Mili girls have to stay there for the duration. Then home I went. And I think I really will call Yamba home soon.
Still don't really know what the next 24 hours will bring, but that's been true of any point since friday - which feels, rightly enough, half a world away. Good Night from Yamba.
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Welcome to Africa
4/5/2008
I guess I've been here for 5 hours, so it's time for first impressions. So far, pretty much what I think I'd have expected of 5 hours in Tanzania ;-) Hot, unquestionably - I was particularly struck by the annoucement the pilot made when I arrived for a brief stopover before getting to Tanzania itself: "Welcome to Doha, Ladies and Gentlemen. The local time is 5:40am, and the outside air temperature is 27°C". It wasn't actually that much hotter when I reached Dar - 29, I think the man said - at 2 ish. But then this is apparently the rainy season.
So far my great expedition seems to be a strange mix of Luci's (to Thailand) and a certain vicar's (to India). I checked in at Heathrow amid a sea of Thai students, apparently returning after some great studying extravaganza. Opposite (which I noticed first, with little more than a wry smile) were the desks for Air India, with a charming young chap trying to explain a delayed flight. but it's in Tanzania itself where the real Indian connection comes - after all, we're on the Indian Ocean coast here, and there's been trade beteen the two for more or less as long as there's been trade. And every so often you see a face which gives you a momentary double-take, until you remember that black African is not the only local gene pool.
At the moment, though, I'm annoying myself by being far too sensible - this is the view from my beach hut (oh yes, I gotta beach hut)
But what was the first thing I did when I got here? Did I go for a swim, or even a paddle? No, I started sewing up the hole in my mosquito net. And now I'm writing about it. Good God I'm dull...
But heh - you know what? I'm fucking well In AFRICA!
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Honestly
23/5/2008
I leave england for a few weeks and everything goes to pot. Turns out there was a power cut, and when the power came back the comments werent working. I dont really get why, unless the num_comments.js file has been deleted :-( But anyhow, if it doesnt come back, please just email me. And once I get a few minutes, I'll start putting up my ramblings, since that seems to be the majority opinion. After all, it's not as if it'll be any less cogent than most of the content of the site ;-)
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
A quick hellooooo
9/5/2008
This is me at my first internets in AFRICA. I'm f***ing well IN AFRICA... Anyway, you knew that, but it doesn't stop me being very excited about it :-). At the moment all I'm doing is saying "Hi, I'm alive", but I have been writing quite a lot of a diary. Some of it is probably worth reading (at least to anyone who thinks the rest of this site is), but some of it almost certainly isn't. So the question is this - would you like me to put it all here, and let you look through, edit it (which may take longer) or post none of it? Answers onna postcard (or, preferably, in comments/emails).
NeverLoseYourSenseOfWonder
Flakey days
29/4/2008
We've been having a few troubles with the internet connection, here at GFdC HQ... I'm not rightly sure whether it's down to the ISP or to the hardware, or a combination of the two, but regardless there've been periodic dropouts of connection, usually for a couple of minutes, sometimes for rather longer. And this wasn't really a great time for this problem to hit - I wont be able to do anything about it for a while now, because:
This is a modification of this wikimedia graphic, which is licensed under the GNU-FDL. Hence my version is also FDL.
I'm going to Tanzania on saturday! I wont be online most of the time, but I may get the chance to visit a town with an internet cafe periodically - at most every fortnight. If I do, you'll be the first to know here, since I'm pretty sure I've managed to set up the server to allow me to update it from distant parts. I haven't tried yet, so I may be proved wrong, but I think it's ready to do the main things*.
However, if my server is ready it's a step ahead of me. I'm beginning to get rather nervous, since I've never met anyone else who's going, I've never left Europe before, I've never travelled solo before, I've never had to do a stopover at a random airport before... and I'm very aware that I might do something stupid. So I'm not quite mentally prepared, but then that doesnt matter - I can adjust slowly. I'm also not physically prepared, as the all-to-small pile of stuff on the floor waiting to be packed testifies. So, although there are a few days left before I leave the continent, I may well not post here again before I go.
In case I don't I'll wish you all luck in your various enterprises now, and perhaps I'll see you again on the other side ;-)
*There will be one or two things that dont get done while I'm away from the server, the only noticable one will be the lack of "Permanent Link" links. I thought updating two pages each time might be a bit much, I can add them on to these posts once I come back, and I dont expect anyone'll miss it :-).
One question from a bullet
16/4/2008
I want to give up being a bullet
I've been a bullet too long
I want to be an innocent coin
in the hand of a child
and be squeezed through the slot
of a bubblegum machine
I want to give up being a bullet
I've been a bullet too long
I want to be a good luck seed
lying idle in somebody's pocket
or some ordinary stone
on the way to becoming an earring
or just lying there unknown
among a crowd of other ordinary stones
I want to give up being a bullet
I've been a bullet too long
The question is
Can you give up being a killer?
John Agard
Handel, Bach and two flutes
10/4/2008
That's how my saturday night was titled, and by god where they two flutes... William Bennet and Kate Hill. If you don't know the names, take my word for it - it was a great treat for me to see them. Bennet in particular is up there with the world's best flautists, and Kate Hill, who was once his student, isn't far behind. And for a tenner I could sit 10 feet away and watch their fingers at work. My first reactions were mostly beyond speech, but now that I've had a few days to digest the wonder of it, I can say a few things.
The first interesting thing I noticed was that in many ways the two of them were diametrically opposed, and suprisingly it was William Bennet, the superstar, who had what I'd be told off for as bad habbits: the angle of his flute was ridiculously low, where Kate Hill had the upright posture (sometimes with expressive motion, it's true, but generally at 90°). The former student kept her fingers close to the keys, to the extent that you could at times barely discern the movements, which should mean you have to put less effort into changes of fingering, so should allow quicker playing without the risk of clattering keys - the master's fingers were much more lively and energetic. But bad habbits or no, it obviously works :-).
The other, slightly more general, point that presented itself was as a result of noticing that none of the performers - neither the flautists nor either of their accompanists (on cello and harpsichord) could have been born much after 1950. And this is part of what seems to be a huge trend across classical music, which I'm sure I'm not the first to comment on (no doubt many have done so with rather more background). I wondered whether it really takes until the mid 50s for musicians to reach their best. Frankly I doubt it. Technically I suspect most have reached their peak by their 30s, and are if anything less skilled (although admittedly will know the works better) 20 years later. It seems that the classical world moves slower than it needs to, in terms of the lifetimes of performers, and I fear that's not for the best of reasons. Orchestras have a reputation for being very cliquey, and I get the impression that you wont be properly accepted and gain enough attention within the group until you're seen to have "served your time", meaning that you can't get the exposure to become a big name and launch a solo career.
After all, since the classical music fraternity is smaller than the pop community, one would expect news to spread more quickly. And yet it seems the reverse - while U2 have to fight critics who say they're too old now they've past 40, a 45 year old flautist would be a youngster. Maybe I'm being superficial and ignorant - I'm hardly an expert - but perhaps it's more important that this impression is given, rather that whether it is a fair one or not. The Jacqueline du Pré building, where the concert was held, probably holds no more than 150, but was a quater empty when one of the world's best flautists was playing, and a large chunk of the audience were over 60 themselves. Certainly I'm no fan of some of the "trendy" gimics that have been employed over the last few years to try to win a young audience for classical music, but rather I think if the scene was (and I suppose appeared to be) focused solely on making the very best music they could, not on old boy-ish cliques, there would be more chance of a wider audience feeling connected.
Mind you, that could all be bollocks. After all, I'm describing the probably the best night of classical music I've enjoyed, then implying I know better... Ah, the arogance of youth ;-)
"Graunchy"
31/3/2008
noun: A day spent making paperclip chains, which nonetheless one does not feel is wasted.
There is a light
30/3/2008
Well we're in... A new house, still largely full of boxes, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel - apart from anything else, as you can probably guess from the fact this post exists, we're online. (I had thought I'd be able to get away with zero downtime during the move, but it turned out that the server sitting happily at the old house, that'd been working perfectly for months, chose this week to fall over, while I wasnt there to do anything about it. So I've pushed the new server into action a bit more rapidly than I'd hoped - please drop me a line if something isn't working as a result.) I'm slightly aprehensive (if such a word exists) about my plans for my room, since both of the people with even vaguely artistic eyes are away, so I can't run my ideas past them, but I think it'll work OK. I'm certainly pretty happy to have made it to a room large enough to let me stop sleeping on a bunk bed... And all of the animals seem to have made the journey successfully too (with one glorious exception - I'm not at all sad to see the back of dillon).
So all told things could have been a lot worse... Though I'd have rather the earth hadn't stolen an hour of my sleep time last night ;-)
Guess what
19/3/2008
I can drive! Passed my test on monday, with 5 minors, which is really rather OK with me. I'm really no judge, though - I thought this test had gone far worse than my first (which, of course, I failed)...
This might or might not be the last post for a week or two - we're moving house soon, and in the process I'll be switching servers. If everything works as I plan it (fairly big "if", but you never now), the site will remain accessible all the time, but if you post a comment early next week it might get lost. (The comments are currently on one server, in the process of changing I'll copy them over to the other, but that will be a touch before this server stops being the live one. If you add your comment between the copy and the switch-over, it might be caught out).
Right, I'm off to drive to flute choir!
Criticising my own statistics
17/3/2008
There are of course a few flaws in just taking that "one fifty thousandth of a percent" at face value - the first being that I can never say conclusively how many more or less deaths there would have been if the campaigns I criticise were not in place, though it should be noted that it seems there's a far more effective way of avoiding attacks: you remember France and Germany, those notorious peace-mongers so roundly criticised by the US for failing to join in back in 2003? You may have noticed a distinct lack of terrorist attacks there...
The other thing you might prefer would be a less startling statistic as to your chance of dying in a terrorist attack at all, rather than in any given year. After all, for most people at least, the chance of dying this year is probably quite slim, so it's not so suprising if the chance of being killed in a particular way is remote. But your chance of dying is of course 100%, so maybe that's more use.
Starting with the 11.2 terrorist deaths per year, then. Taking the total deaths in the most recent year for which statistics are available (2006 - ONS (excel)) which totalled 502 600.
502 600 ÷ 11.2 = 44 900 (3sf)
So you have a 1 in 44 900 chance of dying in a terrorist attack
(1 ÷ 44 900) × 100 = 0.002 23 (3sf).
Turns out you've got about a one four hundred and fiftieth of a percent chance of dying in a terrorist attack. Now clearly that's much bigger than one fifty thousandth of a percent, but if you step back from that immediate argument, you'll notice that it's still ridiculously tiny...
Never enough
16/3/2008
- Printer tracking
- Echelon
- DNA database - stats and escaping
- And a police force driving the public apart
Still more worried about the one fifty thousandth of a percent chance of being killed in a terrorist attack in a given year?* Or are you, like me, more worried about the fact that you can never be quite articulate enough to explain why all this is so terrifying.
*Calculated as follows: 1) assuming the recent threat dates from the invasion of Iraq - almost bang on 5 years back (could have assumed earlier - sept 2001, for example - and that would make the risk even slimmer). 2) Assuming that the only terrorist deaths in the UK were the 56 (I include the 4 bombers themselves, again excluding them would only make the stats more damming) in the tube bombings in 2005. If I've forgotten any other attacks, it is a genuine error - please let me know. 3) Taking population of Britain as 60 million (ONS (pdf)).
56 ÷ 5 = 11.2 deaths per year
60 000 000 ÷ 11.2 = 5.36 million (3sf)
Thus 1 in 5.36million chance of being killed in an attack
(1 ÷ 5 360 000) × 100 = 0.000 0187 (3sf)
1 ÷ 50 000 = 0.000 02, thus risk less than 1 fifty thousandth of a percent.
A little music
8/3/2008
Before I start this I should point out that I'm not exactly a disinterested observer - 2 of my favourite people in the world make up half of the band, so I can't come at it from a purely critical perspective... And maybe, if Nick happens to read this, he might like to skip the rest of this entry - I know there's no point me trying to convince him
Anyway, I've just downloaded Good Dog's latest album, Blue Sky Dreams. I'd already heard "close your eyes", so I wasn't suprised when I found myself enjoying track 3. However, 8 tracks in I was suffering a little doubt: much as I love Ben and Joe, I knew they'd set this year apart for "band stuff", and I was worried that the pressure of needing to produce something had lead them to rush it a bit, whether they'd quite hit the mark with this, their third album. Then I heard "If I'm Honest", and everything changed.
I realised as I listened that (although I could hazard a guess) I don't really know who is the band's main lyricist. I certainly felt for him here, a feeling that of course could be down to him being a friend - I wont be able tell you to what extent that's the cause. At first I thought that the idea of someone only my age having that emotion to draw on was tragic, even if it did give them inspiration for the beauty of the song. Then I realised that my reaction is more a reflection of me having far less experience than I might, than of him having too much. And (tho I'm not qualified to say), perhaps he'd look back on the beautiful memories and be glad of them, even if the end was painful.
Anyway, a song that has added to the sum of human happiness, which is more than I can say I've achieved: download If I'm Honest yourself (right click & save target/save link), and see if you understand where I'm coming from, or if it's just me.
I don't like Rabies
4/3/2008
Had a rabies jab yesterday, and all was well at first... but as today wore on I've found my arm less and less capable of doing anything at all. This makes me a sad sexual harassment panda*. It was the second of 3 in the rabies series, and last week's seemed to be fine, which is odd. Tho thinking about it I was inexplicably grumpy the next day... In all I'll have had at least 8 different injections to go to Tanzania, and as an added bonus I'm paying for many of them. Not sure I like this deal. Especially since the rabies ones dont even give you an immunisation.
What I do like, though, is the video to Bad Day by REM... Q are playing their "20 best REM videos" or something, and I looked up and realised quite how well done it is. Them boys done good.
*It's a South Park Thing
PMQs
2/3/2008
Does anybody else out there occasionally watch Prime Minsiter's Questions? And if you do, do you find it quite as embarassing as I do? Of course we all know that it's always been a bit reminiscent of the playground, but it's not until you actually watch it that the extent of the car crash hits you. There is simply no chance of intelligent debate in such an environment. And that's odd, because the climate in the commons can be rather more mature, and sometimes wisdom even gets a look-in.
So why is it that when more people than at any other time are watching, when the boss should theoretically be being called to account, does the tone drop? Frustration, perhaps - essentially Prime Minister's have refused to give a single significant answer during PMQs for the last few decades, so MPs take what little comfort they can from shouting at them. Or group psychology - there's more fun, and hence social credentials to be had by barrackng a common enemy or figure of fun than by constructing a critical argument. So when the whole political mass is gathered together, such lines become more appealing.
Any road up, it doesn't look great as a showcase of our democracy... But then I suppose it's really an irrelevance. All the decisions are made over pleasant dinners at one of the palace of westminster's 23 dining rooms, so by wednesday noon it is literally "all over bar the shouting". The end of "punch and judy politics", as heralded by dear old Dave Cameron? Not for a few centuries yet...
Ísland
2/2/2008
I have soared o'er snow-covered mountains at close of day
I have warmed my hands in Geysir, first of the geysers, moments before an erruption
I have crossed the frozen lake Tjörnin
I have drunk molarkaffi in a roadside shop, for a road that could barely be seen
I have walked through snow as high as my waist
I have felt the spray of Gullfoss freeze my face
I have watched Europe and America drift apart, no faster than my fingernails grow
I have lived... in Iceland
At long last
27/1/2008
Something interesting is happening ;-) I did fail my driving test on Friday, which I suppose is vaguely noteworthy, but the exciting thing starts tomorrow. Flying out of Stanstead on a small North-European carier. Going to the youngest land in the world, which has the oldest still-active Parliament. a country where the phone book is arranged by first name. (You getting it yet?) It's the home of Sigur Rós. It's a nation with which I've been obsessed for years. Iceland.
I'm quite sure that 3 and a half days will only leave me wanting to return even more earnestly than I want to go now, but the prospect of getting a little hint of the country is quite exciting enough. If I dont post again on this site, it's because I've refused to leave the good North...
Heaven in ordinary
12/1/2008
Was of course the title of last year's greenbelt. Today I saw a wonderful example of it, in a place where I'd never really expected it. The whole idea is that there should be nowhere we dont expect to see that heaven, but of course everyone thinks their own situation is particularly dire, and when I was giving serious thought to heaven in ordinary, back at the time of the festival, my ordinary was rather different.
It'd be difficult to tell this story without giving details that're less than helpful for various people, so forgive me if I'm a bit scanty with the finer points. In essence there was a particularly difficult customer in the shop (and I dont mean difficult in it's euphamistic sense, unhelpful, but simply that it was hard for us to help him) and it was humbling to watch how some of the regular smiths folk responded to him. It would have been so easy to shun him, and I have to say my first reaction was just that. But they went that extra mile </cliche>. And most were on first-name terms with him - they've gone that far regularly before.
And yes, there were the smiles over his shoulder - "yeah, I know, but you still try... this is what you do" - except it isn't just what you do. Whatever else, that chap is going to go home knowing he wasn't just ignored, as I guess he may often be. And that is the most incredible of differences that my colleagues have made. I was so arrogant as to think that you dont make a difference working for Smiths... clearly that's only if you don't try to...
P.S.: I should say that I wrote this a few days ago, but haven't made it to a computer for long enough til now (in case you were wondering what I was doing at work on a saturday)...