October 24th, 2008
Dear Mom,
‘As time goes by…’ is the song, no? Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in “Casablanca”… the sense of loss, tenderness and attachment that accompanies the bittersweet reunion, soon followed by departure, that is the basis of all forms of human affection.
Ahh, ‘and what is love?’, as Herr Mann often started his paragraphs in “The Magic Mountain” about time. This strange, bonding quality that unites individuals through the mists of time, the oceans of geography and the echoes of childhood. We travel through time & space, spending our lives shifting from here to there, and occasionally back again, but throughout our personal odyssey there are certain fragrances, call them persons, with whom we are forever attached, bonded, quilted and beholden to.
Mothers are One. One in the sense of our origins, our first becoming and being, the original sin become the original joy and the celebration of the creation of life, the start of family and the longing to protect and be protected. Quite basic, really. One with you from the beginning until the very end of being. There are no separations in this attachment, no complications, no divisions, nothing which can sever the reality of being One.
As the Jews say about the nature of G-d and man, being ‘at-one-ment’, which the Buddhists have wisely transformed into a mediation perceiving every living being as one’s mother during one incarnation or another. How can one not love all of humanity (even the guy who just cut you off while driving…), if they have all been at one time or another, through the amplitude of time, your blessed mother?
Yet, for all those beings who may have been my mother in an unforeseen or unremembered lifetime, respect them -- but for these past fifty-four years (1954-2008) I’ve been blessed by one profoundly precious, caring, loving and forever forgiving mother, Priscilla Rose Leslie. In that, I am eternally thankful to the g-ds for letting us share so many wonderful years together in this fleeting world.
You’ve been the still centerpiece of our family's lives, Mom. The quiet and enduring strength when we needed someone to trust or rely upon; the caring and loving mother who would lift us up when we were down or at risk of capsizing in the turbulent world; the protectoress in the background always watching our backs and making sure that we knew what dangers may be ahead; the judge of our actions and decisions who would try to guide us in the right direction and advise us on the consequences of our choices; the sacred spirit recalling our religious duties and obligations in an increasingly secular and atomized world.
In all of these roles, Mom, you were 'the One'. You were the elegant mother we were all proud of among the suburbanites of Syracuse, cool, refined, urbane, among the earthy chatter of the neighborhood. The Belle of Fieldston, who sought sanctuary Upstate away from the artifice and high society of the City. The well-read deb who chose a career in nursing to care for others while raising her family. The well-coiffed cook who could make the best brisket, as well as roast pork, of any Reform mother in the synagogue.
The station wagon Mom stuffing us in the back for Sunday School or Boy Scouts or summer camp or the Passovers with the Tumans in New Jersey or the unexpected, free-spirited, escape from school, ‘on the road’ journeys down the New York State Thruway from Syracuse to the caverns and excitement of Rose's apartment at Sixth Avenue and 57th St. on a dime and a lark…
Childhood memories mixed with the turmoils of adolescence and unexpected sexuality. The simple joys of high school before the well-planned displacement to college and then beyond. The slow, necessary, complex struggle to become One-in-oneself, separate from the protective shadow of one’s parents, beloved and misunderstood in equal measures.
We all survive, fall and stand up again on that journey. Yet, it is made the more soothing and comforting when one knows that there is a mother who loves and loves without question or limitation.
Thank-you, Mom, for all these years of joy, care and love. I couldn’t have asked for more...
xoxo, Keith
[Note: The Bhakti movement was a Hindu religious movement in which the spiritual practice was loving devotion to G-d, or bhakti. The devotion was directed towards a particular form of G-d, such as Shiva, Vishnu or Shakti. The bhakti movement started in southern India and spread north during the Indian medieval period (800-1700 CE). A bhakta is a devotee of a particular form of G-d. In common use it means 'one who follows the path of bhakti', often referred to as bhakti yoga.]
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Tony Hillerman, novelist
“Everything is connected,” Jim Chee reflects in “The Ghostway” (1984).
“The wing of the corn beetle affects the direction of the wind, the way the sand drifts, the way the light reflects into the eye of man beholding his reality.
All is part of totality, and in this totality man finds his hozro, his way of walking in harmony, with beauty all around him.”
Tony Hillerman, novelist
1925-2008
“The wing of the corn beetle affects the direction of the wind, the way the sand drifts, the way the light reflects into the eye of man beholding his reality.
All is part of totality, and in this totality man finds his hozro, his way of walking in harmony, with beauty all around him.”
Tony Hillerman, novelist
1925-2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Journey: Travels with Steinbeck 1962
"When I was very young and the urge to be some place else was on me, I ws assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping. The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of stomach highup under the rib cage. In other words, I don't improve; in further words, once a bum always a bum. I fear the disease is incurable. I set this matter down not to instruct others but to inform myself.
When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find in himself a good and sufficient reason for going. This to the practical bum is not difficult. He has a built-in garden of reasons to choose from. Next he must plan his trip in time and space, choose a direction and a destination. And last he must implement the journey. How to go, what to take, how long to stay. This part of the process is invariable and immortal. I set it down only so that newcomers to bumdom, like teenagers in new-hatched sin, will not think they invented it.
Once a journey is desgined, equipped,, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uinqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, reservations, brassbound and inevitable, dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in-the-glass bum relax and go along with it. Only then do the frustrations fall away. In this a journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. I feel better now, having said this, altough only those who have experienced it will understand it."
John Steinbeck
Travels with Charlie in Search of America
1962
When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find in himself a good and sufficient reason for going. This to the practical bum is not difficult. He has a built-in garden of reasons to choose from. Next he must plan his trip in time and space, choose a direction and a destination. And last he must implement the journey. How to go, what to take, how long to stay. This part of the process is invariable and immortal. I set it down only so that newcomers to bumdom, like teenagers in new-hatched sin, will not think they invented it.
Once a journey is desgined, equipped,, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uinqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, reservations, brassbound and inevitable, dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in-the-glass bum relax and go along with it. Only then do the frustrations fall away. In this a journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it. I feel better now, having said this, altough only those who have experienced it will understand it."
John Steinbeck
Travels with Charlie in Search of America
1962
Sunday, October 19, 2008
My Three Sons (and Mohammad, too...)
the boys are upstairs asleep in bruce and buff's quiet newton home, while i'm down a flight of stairs on monica's computer, as usual when i'm here.
it's about 8 am here on sunday morning. i've been up for two hours already. a bit of jet lag, but also i went to bed before 11
pm, so a reasonable night's sleep, as well. the boys, however, may sleep for a few more hours as they are cumulatively exhausted by school, soccer and the intensity of their lives. if they are homsick, at times, they don't have much time to think
about it...
as i noted the other day, my trip here was also exhausting. i gave the eithad folks my mind a few times, mixing humor, anger and irony, to the delight of the international crowd around me, when the airlines were simply so incompetent in rearranging our travel once they cancelled the direct flight to nyc from abu dhabi after the flight was postponed for hours.. the eithad staff, of course, were trying the best, but they were either poorly trained or badly managed for dealing with such a situation (where 70++ folks are all trying to make new plans without any good guidance from the airlines).
thus, i had one night in abu dhabi (in the hotel lounge that turned out to be a steal at $23 for 16 hours...), then in london on thursday night when we missed our american airlines connection due to more delays in abu dhabi on the runway.
even now, on sunday, i still haven't seen my bag yet. hopefully it'll show up today at bruce's, but i can't be certain, of course. in the end, i finally flew to nyc on british airways (which was quite nice, thank-you), so they are responsible now for finding the bag and sending it to me here. en challah!
then, no surprise, nyc traffic was a bear leaving jfk and getting across the whitestone bridge in the early afternoon. it took 3 hours to drive to new haven with too many cars for the road space -- not to mention all the folks escaping the city for the w/end on a friday afternoon. after getting on 91 north, it only took 2 hours through increasingly open, tranquil and autumnal landscape.
i finally arrived at nmh at 7:30 pm on friday, sixty hours after leaving k'du, long after the classes i'd hoped to attend had ended, but in time to take the boys (joshua, ezra and suraj) w/ mohammad, their close egytian friend, out to dinner for what they affectionately call 'fake thai food' in greenfield.
as any parent will immediately understand, it's so great to be near our sons and their friends again. strange, in some ways, that it feels so natural when we were breathless for weeks in kathmandu w/o them nearby. one good steady hug and reality bites back. in truth, they all look and sound quite good.
no matter our fretting, their kvetching and our fears, all three of them (josh, ezi & suraj) seem in excellent spirits and minds. of course, it doesn't take too long to hear the complaining, which is the human condition for all of us, but i heard almost universal praise about them from their teachers, administrators and the like. not to mention, they seem in good health, physically, emotionally & mentally -- even though they are overworked, over-exercised and all the natural stuff that young students and boys feel when they have to be in the constraints and demands of formal school.
there's much at nmh to admire. not the least the massive construction boom of the past year. the new $10 m arts center is stunning and has begun to define the new mount hermon campus quad. although it is truly a cow pasture on a hill overlooing the connecticut river, what a cow pasture! the views are stunning, esp. in the autumn colors and refreshing liight. there's a joyfulness and studiousness that endows a new england campus setting, as well.
i also really liked all the teachers i met. they seem a wise, stimulating and caring community. a healthy mix of old and new, americans and internationals. i met with josh & sura's ap env science teacher, ezi's french teacher, josh's classics teacher and suraj's math teacher (a vietnamese immigrant who sees himself in suraj's odyssey to the states). although the boys may have started the term a bit slowly w/ not their desired grades, they all seem to have picked up their games in october and are moving toward high Bs in all subjects w/ the possibility of even an A- if they work super hard and concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
in the afternoon, with a bit of a pre-winter wind coming off the hills, i watched the first half of the jv and second half of the varsity soccer games. unfortunately, neither team won against andover and the varsity season, after such great hopes, is falling apart at 2-6. sad for joshua, especially, but he so loves playing at the varsity level, that no matter what he says about the frustration with this season, there's a deep pride of accomplishment personally in what he has achieved, even if the team is tanking this year.
ez and suraj are playing w/ mo on the JV this year (as josh did last year). the jv team has a very good record this year and a real team spirit, so that's fun for them. because mo's the captain of the jv this year, he and ezi have become very tight which is a delight to see. the egyptian-nepal axis of joy and respect seems well watered by this young tribe for a long-term growth. it's a pleasure to see national and religious barriers so easily overcome far from home in the openness and generosity of youth...
i was also told that there's also a good chance josh wil go to the model un in hong kong in january, after he returns to campus from nepal. i met the woman in charge and she spoke very highly and affectionately about josh's leadership on the mun, as he's the student teacher for the mun students. it's been a great source of pride and interest for joshu, since global affairs and international studies comes so naturally to a son born in thaiand, raised in nepal, who's traveled the world with an american passport.
i also met ezi's new buddy, bill batty, the 70 year nmh english teacher who is ezra's partner in french 3 honors. bill's taing the french course for the pleasure of learning. he's an adorable humanist who absolutely loves movies, literature. life & ezi. he's a wonderfully inspiring man who is an excellent role model for ezi who says 'ezra's like the mayor of nmh; he knows and greets everyone!' not only that. he told me ezi sings songs in french class that he writes himself about nmh! now, can you imagine that?? ;-)
over lunch yesterday in the dining hall, when ezi ran off to watch the man utd game, suraj and i sat and talked. he's in good spirits, although says that the nmh academics are so much more demanding & rigorous than they experienced at lincoln. he described the nmh environment as 'taking some of the most talented people from all over the world and putting them here on one campus'. of course, there are all types of kids here, but it's an insightful perspective that explains the level of demand and achievement among many of the students.
clearly, suraj is very well-liked by the two of his teachers i met and is much more settled here than a month ago. suraj also told me (ezi hasn't...) that ezra has decided that he's definitely staying on next year. he said that ezi feels that it woul be hard to return to lincoln after the challenge and growth he's experienced nmh. he's afraid he'd be unhappy personally at lincoln after the stimulus and demands of nmh. he's doesn't think it would be wise to return after having begun, with so much struggle, his new path here. even if nmh is academically and athletically much tougher than the gentler and more supportive lincoln, it's a challenge that he now finds appealing and rewarding. in this i trust suraj's perspective & thoughts on ezi.
whereas suraj is less certain. he says that he and ezi discuss this all the time and he's more cautious than ezi. partially it's also b/c it's not certain that nmh will fund suraj for a second year, as well as his feeling, that he expressed to me, that once he starts college he won't be going back to nepal for a long time (forever?), so he thinks doing his senior year there, with his family and among old friends, even if the academics is less challenging, would be an important year for him. of course, that's also motivated by the fact that he doubts that he will be able to afford to go back this summer if he stays on, which makes
him more homesick since ezi & josh are even coming at the new year's break. although i told suraj that, if nmh offers him a second year, there may be a way for his family to bring him back in the summer or he could find work in nepal to help
subidize that cost...
while joshua is busy filling out college applications this weekend. for him, he can see the end of his two years at nmh almost in sight. he's ready to move on, he says. ready to be free of the strict rules and requirements that a boarding school impose. he's 18 years old now and wants to begin the next stage of his almot adult life. nmh has given him so much, but it's time to get himself closer to a city with all the opportunities and simuli that the modern urban universe offers. closer, as well, to himself and the image he is still creating of the young man he is busy becoming...
three sons. three young men. three lives. for the moment, all sharing their world in western massachusetts, stimulated, challenged, possibly even inspired. all a bit homesick and eager to escape for this long weekend with dad as their charioteer.
for me, the joys of fatherhood are endless, enriching and profound. i am so happy to be among them, again.
so, after a full day's journey, with mohammed with us to meet his sister in boston, we drove the increasingly familiar route 2 express to bruce's last night about 9 pm. once again, bruce and buff are great hosts for us from the 'far abroad'. it feels so good to be able to have an extended family home to come back to when the boys leave the campus and i come to america.
with the way the stock market has been dancing these past weeks, it's doubtful that we'll be purchasing our own here anytime soon....
it's about 8 am here on sunday morning. i've been up for two hours already. a bit of jet lag, but also i went to bed before 11
pm, so a reasonable night's sleep, as well. the boys, however, may sleep for a few more hours as they are cumulatively exhausted by school, soccer and the intensity of their lives. if they are homsick, at times, they don't have much time to think
about it...
as i noted the other day, my trip here was also exhausting. i gave the eithad folks my mind a few times, mixing humor, anger and irony, to the delight of the international crowd around me, when the airlines were simply so incompetent in rearranging our travel once they cancelled the direct flight to nyc from abu dhabi after the flight was postponed for hours.. the eithad staff, of course, were trying the best, but they were either poorly trained or badly managed for dealing with such a situation (where 70++ folks are all trying to make new plans without any good guidance from the airlines).
thus, i had one night in abu dhabi (in the hotel lounge that turned out to be a steal at $23 for 16 hours...), then in london on thursday night when we missed our american airlines connection due to more delays in abu dhabi on the runway.
even now, on sunday, i still haven't seen my bag yet. hopefully it'll show up today at bruce's, but i can't be certain, of course. in the end, i finally flew to nyc on british airways (which was quite nice, thank-you), so they are responsible now for finding the bag and sending it to me here. en challah!
then, no surprise, nyc traffic was a bear leaving jfk and getting across the whitestone bridge in the early afternoon. it took 3 hours to drive to new haven with too many cars for the road space -- not to mention all the folks escaping the city for the w/end on a friday afternoon. after getting on 91 north, it only took 2 hours through increasingly open, tranquil and autumnal landscape.
i finally arrived at nmh at 7:30 pm on friday, sixty hours after leaving k'du, long after the classes i'd hoped to attend had ended, but in time to take the boys (joshua, ezra and suraj) w/ mohammad, their close egytian friend, out to dinner for what they affectionately call 'fake thai food' in greenfield.
as any parent will immediately understand, it's so great to be near our sons and their friends again. strange, in some ways, that it feels so natural when we were breathless for weeks in kathmandu w/o them nearby. one good steady hug and reality bites back. in truth, they all look and sound quite good.
no matter our fretting, their kvetching and our fears, all three of them (josh, ezi & suraj) seem in excellent spirits and minds. of course, it doesn't take too long to hear the complaining, which is the human condition for all of us, but i heard almost universal praise about them from their teachers, administrators and the like. not to mention, they seem in good health, physically, emotionally & mentally -- even though they are overworked, over-exercised and all the natural stuff that young students and boys feel when they have to be in the constraints and demands of formal school.
there's much at nmh to admire. not the least the massive construction boom of the past year. the new $10 m arts center is stunning and has begun to define the new mount hermon campus quad. although it is truly a cow pasture on a hill overlooing the connecticut river, what a cow pasture! the views are stunning, esp. in the autumn colors and refreshing liight. there's a joyfulness and studiousness that endows a new england campus setting, as well.
i also really liked all the teachers i met. they seem a wise, stimulating and caring community. a healthy mix of old and new, americans and internationals. i met with josh & sura's ap env science teacher, ezi's french teacher, josh's classics teacher and suraj's math teacher (a vietnamese immigrant who sees himself in suraj's odyssey to the states). although the boys may have started the term a bit slowly w/ not their desired grades, they all seem to have picked up their games in october and are moving toward high Bs in all subjects w/ the possibility of even an A- if they work super hard and concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
in the afternoon, with a bit of a pre-winter wind coming off the hills, i watched the first half of the jv and second half of the varsity soccer games. unfortunately, neither team won against andover and the varsity season, after such great hopes, is falling apart at 2-6. sad for joshua, especially, but he so loves playing at the varsity level, that no matter what he says about the frustration with this season, there's a deep pride of accomplishment personally in what he has achieved, even if the team is tanking this year.
ez and suraj are playing w/ mo on the JV this year (as josh did last year). the jv team has a very good record this year and a real team spirit, so that's fun for them. because mo's the captain of the jv this year, he and ezi have become very tight which is a delight to see. the egyptian-nepal axis of joy and respect seems well watered by this young tribe for a long-term growth. it's a pleasure to see national and religious barriers so easily overcome far from home in the openness and generosity of youth...
i was also told that there's also a good chance josh wil go to the model un in hong kong in january, after he returns to campus from nepal. i met the woman in charge and she spoke very highly and affectionately about josh's leadership on the mun, as he's the student teacher for the mun students. it's been a great source of pride and interest for joshu, since global affairs and international studies comes so naturally to a son born in thaiand, raised in nepal, who's traveled the world with an american passport.
i also met ezi's new buddy, bill batty, the 70 year nmh english teacher who is ezra's partner in french 3 honors. bill's taing the french course for the pleasure of learning. he's an adorable humanist who absolutely loves movies, literature. life & ezi. he's a wonderfully inspiring man who is an excellent role model for ezi who says 'ezra's like the mayor of nmh; he knows and greets everyone!' not only that. he told me ezi sings songs in french class that he writes himself about nmh! now, can you imagine that?? ;-)
over lunch yesterday in the dining hall, when ezi ran off to watch the man utd game, suraj and i sat and talked. he's in good spirits, although says that the nmh academics are so much more demanding & rigorous than they experienced at lincoln. he described the nmh environment as 'taking some of the most talented people from all over the world and putting them here on one campus'. of course, there are all types of kids here, but it's an insightful perspective that explains the level of demand and achievement among many of the students.
clearly, suraj is very well-liked by the two of his teachers i met and is much more settled here than a month ago. suraj also told me (ezi hasn't...) that ezra has decided that he's definitely staying on next year. he said that ezi feels that it woul be hard to return to lincoln after the challenge and growth he's experienced nmh. he's afraid he'd be unhappy personally at lincoln after the stimulus and demands of nmh. he's doesn't think it would be wise to return after having begun, with so much struggle, his new path here. even if nmh is academically and athletically much tougher than the gentler and more supportive lincoln, it's a challenge that he now finds appealing and rewarding. in this i trust suraj's perspective & thoughts on ezi.
whereas suraj is less certain. he says that he and ezi discuss this all the time and he's more cautious than ezi. partially it's also b/c it's not certain that nmh will fund suraj for a second year, as well as his feeling, that he expressed to me, that once he starts college he won't be going back to nepal for a long time (forever?), so he thinks doing his senior year there, with his family and among old friends, even if the academics is less challenging, would be an important year for him. of course, that's also motivated by the fact that he doubts that he will be able to afford to go back this summer if he stays on, which makes
him more homesick since ezi & josh are even coming at the new year's break. although i told suraj that, if nmh offers him a second year, there may be a way for his family to bring him back in the summer or he could find work in nepal to help
subidize that cost...
while joshua is busy filling out college applications this weekend. for him, he can see the end of his two years at nmh almost in sight. he's ready to move on, he says. ready to be free of the strict rules and requirements that a boarding school impose. he's 18 years old now and wants to begin the next stage of his almot adult life. nmh has given him so much, but it's time to get himself closer to a city with all the opportunities and simuli that the modern urban universe offers. closer, as well, to himself and the image he is still creating of the young man he is busy becoming...
three sons. three young men. three lives. for the moment, all sharing their world in western massachusetts, stimulated, challenged, possibly even inspired. all a bit homesick and eager to escape for this long weekend with dad as their charioteer.
for me, the joys of fatherhood are endless, enriching and profound. i am so happy to be among them, again.
so, after a full day's journey, with mohammed with us to meet his sister in boston, we drove the increasingly familiar route 2 express to bruce's last night about 9 pm. once again, bruce and buff are great hosts for us from the 'far abroad'. it feels so good to be able to have an extended family home to come back to when the boys leave the campus and i come to america.
with the way the stock market has been dancing these past weeks, it's doubtful that we'll be purchasing our own here anytime soon....
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Stuck inside of Abu Dhabi with the NYC Blues Again
Well, the news got worse (as it often does...) rather than better during the night. Instead of the 2-3 hour delay due to the fog here in the United Arab Emirates, at some point early this morning the fight was cancelled. I guess the crew had waited long enough and couldn't fly to the States w/o breaking the regulations, alas.
So, instead of a five hour wait b/n flights in Abu Dhabi, I've been here for about 12hours with another 4 more to go. I could have gotten a residency permit in that time...
Fortunately, as I said earlier, I went to the airport hotel lounge and paid to stay here when I arrived, so I've had the sanctuary of their relative comfort, food and drinks, not to mention the internet. A little pricey at $23 for a few hours, an absolute steal for most of the night and day...
Now, instead of flying directly to NYC on Eithad, they've rebooked us via London (Heathrow) on Eithad and then to NYC on American Airlines. Unfortunately, I won't get to NYC until 11 pm tonight (Thursday). Since I need to be in the boys' NMH classroom for Parents Weekend at 8 am tomorrow (Friday), the revised schedule leaves a bit to be desired.
What I'm thinking now is that unless there is a midnight flight to Boston that I can catch (dubious...), I'll just rent a car at JFK and drive up to western Massachusetts tonight. It's definitely not my preferred option (at this point, there is no preferred option...), but it's the only way I can get to the boys' school in time for classes first thing Friday morning.
Ahhh, the mixed blessings of modern travel... (It's now 9:30 am, a full 12 hours after arriving here, with very little sleep, so I feel like I could slip off this seat and simply sleep.) It's, no doubt, better than the steerage journeys that many of our ancestors took from the shipyards or cities along the Baltic coast in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Quicker, too -- even with these delays...
I wonder at how attractive or pleasant the accomodations or food were on those week-long sea voyages. The massive immigration at the turn of the century, 108 years ago, when the shetel was fleeing the czar's wrath, cossack greed and religious intolerance. So many families who constitue our modern American world came at that time. The Irish, the Italians, the Jews, the Germans and rag muffin European peasantry and urban overlow.
In the spring, when I came to visit Mom & Dad, I started on their memoirs, and the stories of their families. I wondered while trying to get stories out of them, about the passage from the olde world to the new one. My father's parents actually came when they were young from Russian to America, while my mother's family came a generation earlier.
Yet, alas, there's no one alive to tell me the stories or relate the 'sights & sounds' of those maiden voyages. How did they feel crossing between worlds? What were their fears? Their hopes? What did they carry? Who did they come with? Who was there to receive them? What did they leave behind? Where did they think they were going? What did it feel like when they go there? (more, more...)
These thoughts came to me earlier today when I was still at the Kathmandu airport early yesterday evening. There were huddles of Bhutanese (Nepali) refugee families being transited by IOM (Int'l Organization for Migration) to the United States. Like our relatives of olde, these families appeared to have little idea of where they were going, seemed not to speak much English and were in the proces of having their lives changed forver.
As I sat near them, they seemed like they had just come out of a Bhutanese or Nepali village. I could easily imagine them in Zhemgang or Gorkha district. Rugged, simple, hard-working, innocent villagers who mostly took one day at a time and thought of wealth in terms of enough food to eat and children to help them.
They were dressed like the villagers I have known for a quarter of a century (wow!) while living & working in Nepal. Married daughters carrying for their aged parents. Handicapped (physically and mentally) children being taken care of by siblings. Basnets, Gurungs, Subedis and Magars all leaving the forced regime of refugee camps to the unknown and vast world of America.
I wondered if our past generations left with the same trepidation and anticipation? Yet there was no int'l agency there to help prepare and guide our grand and great-grand parents across that cultural, economic and social divide.
After so long in Nepal, I'm biased -- but I have a hard time seeing these older folks finding a better life in the isolated suburbs or dense urban environments of America. Maybe it's my limitation after so many years in Nepal, but I worried that the older parents and grandparents would find more unhappiness than fulfillment in the States; all for the sake of their younger generations who would much more quickly fit in, become American and leave the old world behind.
Didn't our grandparents do the same for us?
So many of the centuries-old historical traditions collapsed and withered in the open, free, safe & vivaciously new space of America. The great secular manifest destiny of our modern republic absorbing language, history and religion in a cultural maelstrom of new pop icons like Mae West (perfect name for a new continent...), Bing Crosby, Marilyn Monroe, Nat King Cole, Elizabeth Taylor, Bruce Springsteen, Woody Allen, Tupac Shakur and Morgan Freeman...
Will these dear Himalayan souls, in their Chinese sneakers, Thai t-shirts, towels still wrapped around their heads, find solace and opportunity in America? Is the dream still on the horizon for the latest immigrants? Will they find the reserves w/in themselves to adjust to the radically different world that awaits them? Will the grandparents retreat to the privacy of their new homes while the younger children begin their individual paths to the American life through school, friends and the relative receptivity of a proudly multi-cultural society?
Ahh, dear great grandmother, unknown, unknowable. I see you in the grainy, B&W sepia-toned photos, stern, tidy and proud. You are surrounded by a score of children, grandchildren, cousins, nephews and nieces dressed in their Sunday finery. I imagine you making the sea voyage as a young woman, carrying tightly your most valuable possessions, firmly holding the hand of your father, as you bid adieu to the grey shores of Prussia, villages and towns receding from view. A favorite cat or puppy left behind. Childhood friends who you know you will never see again...
Now, I have crossed part of that boundary myself. After 25 years in Nepal, I find my Janus face looking both ways. Tonight, I am caught in the river Styx, Charon's lost his oar and we wait, almost patiently, for the airlines staff to bring us new boarding passes to permit us to leave, finally, this middle world, neither East nor West, a connecting point, a passage in the night.
Yet, my concerns and complaints last only a few hours, half a day, I know not the long and final passage that you made from the old world to the new. These days, we flit between these categories almost with ease (airport lounges offering us snacks, drinks & the ubiquitous internet...).
Only these 'gaonly' Bhutanese (Nepali) refugees accompanying me to remind me that once, too, my family left a traditional world, huddling, like refugees, between greater and more expansionist empires, seeking a home, a refuge, a sanctuary. Like these passing villagers traveling with hope and fear through the night with me, they found it in America, over a hundred years ago.
While I, a generation removed, went searching for some qualities of the world they'd left behind and found Nepal, dear Nepal, and a pilgrim's progress...
Now, distant, long passed, Great Grandmothers, I cross these distances by air, not sea, and find my own children on both sides of this aching planet, struggling themselves to find their feet in a world of categories, identities and biases.
May some of your courage carry them, as well, over the personal and physical seas that they must perforce traverse.
When they, too, look at your enduring photographs, may your strength be theirs, as well.
I think they're calling my flight tonight...
So, instead of a five hour wait b/n flights in Abu Dhabi, I've been here for about 12hours with another 4 more to go. I could have gotten a residency permit in that time...
Fortunately, as I said earlier, I went to the airport hotel lounge and paid to stay here when I arrived, so I've had the sanctuary of their relative comfort, food and drinks, not to mention the internet. A little pricey at $23 for a few hours, an absolute steal for most of the night and day...
Now, instead of flying directly to NYC on Eithad, they've rebooked us via London (Heathrow) on Eithad and then to NYC on American Airlines. Unfortunately, I won't get to NYC until 11 pm tonight (Thursday). Since I need to be in the boys' NMH classroom for Parents Weekend at 8 am tomorrow (Friday), the revised schedule leaves a bit to be desired.
What I'm thinking now is that unless there is a midnight flight to Boston that I can catch (dubious...), I'll just rent a car at JFK and drive up to western Massachusetts tonight. It's definitely not my preferred option (at this point, there is no preferred option...), but it's the only way I can get to the boys' school in time for classes first thing Friday morning.
Ahhh, the mixed blessings of modern travel... (It's now 9:30 am, a full 12 hours after arriving here, with very little sleep, so I feel like I could slip off this seat and simply sleep.) It's, no doubt, better than the steerage journeys that many of our ancestors took from the shipyards or cities along the Baltic coast in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Quicker, too -- even with these delays...
I wonder at how attractive or pleasant the accomodations or food were on those week-long sea voyages. The massive immigration at the turn of the century, 108 years ago, when the shetel was fleeing the czar's wrath, cossack greed and religious intolerance. So many families who constitue our modern American world came at that time. The Irish, the Italians, the Jews, the Germans and rag muffin European peasantry and urban overlow.
In the spring, when I came to visit Mom & Dad, I started on their memoirs, and the stories of their families. I wondered while trying to get stories out of them, about the passage from the olde world to the new one. My father's parents actually came when they were young from Russian to America, while my mother's family came a generation earlier.
Yet, alas, there's no one alive to tell me the stories or relate the 'sights & sounds' of those maiden voyages. How did they feel crossing between worlds? What were their fears? Their hopes? What did they carry? Who did they come with? Who was there to receive them? What did they leave behind? Where did they think they were going? What did it feel like when they go there? (more, more...)
These thoughts came to me earlier today when I was still at the Kathmandu airport early yesterday evening. There were huddles of Bhutanese (Nepali) refugee families being transited by IOM (Int'l Organization for Migration) to the United States. Like our relatives of olde, these families appeared to have little idea of where they were going, seemed not to speak much English and were in the proces of having their lives changed forver.
As I sat near them, they seemed like they had just come out of a Bhutanese or Nepali village. I could easily imagine them in Zhemgang or Gorkha district. Rugged, simple, hard-working, innocent villagers who mostly took one day at a time and thought of wealth in terms of enough food to eat and children to help them.
They were dressed like the villagers I have known for a quarter of a century (wow!) while living & working in Nepal. Married daughters carrying for their aged parents. Handicapped (physically and mentally) children being taken care of by siblings. Basnets, Gurungs, Subedis and Magars all leaving the forced regime of refugee camps to the unknown and vast world of America.
I wondered if our past generations left with the same trepidation and anticipation? Yet there was no int'l agency there to help prepare and guide our grand and great-grand parents across that cultural, economic and social divide.
After so long in Nepal, I'm biased -- but I have a hard time seeing these older folks finding a better life in the isolated suburbs or dense urban environments of America. Maybe it's my limitation after so many years in Nepal, but I worried that the older parents and grandparents would find more unhappiness than fulfillment in the States; all for the sake of their younger generations who would much more quickly fit in, become American and leave the old world behind.
Didn't our grandparents do the same for us?
So many of the centuries-old historical traditions collapsed and withered in the open, free, safe & vivaciously new space of America. The great secular manifest destiny of our modern republic absorbing language, history and religion in a cultural maelstrom of new pop icons like Mae West (perfect name for a new continent...), Bing Crosby, Marilyn Monroe, Nat King Cole, Elizabeth Taylor, Bruce Springsteen, Woody Allen, Tupac Shakur and Morgan Freeman...
Will these dear Himalayan souls, in their Chinese sneakers, Thai t-shirts, towels still wrapped around their heads, find solace and opportunity in America? Is the dream still on the horizon for the latest immigrants? Will they find the reserves w/in themselves to adjust to the radically different world that awaits them? Will the grandparents retreat to the privacy of their new homes while the younger children begin their individual paths to the American life through school, friends and the relative receptivity of a proudly multi-cultural society?
Ahh, dear great grandmother, unknown, unknowable. I see you in the grainy, B&W sepia-toned photos, stern, tidy and proud. You are surrounded by a score of children, grandchildren, cousins, nephews and nieces dressed in their Sunday finery. I imagine you making the sea voyage as a young woman, carrying tightly your most valuable possessions, firmly holding the hand of your father, as you bid adieu to the grey shores of Prussia, villages and towns receding from view. A favorite cat or puppy left behind. Childhood friends who you know you will never see again...
Now, I have crossed part of that boundary myself. After 25 years in Nepal, I find my Janus face looking both ways. Tonight, I am caught in the river Styx, Charon's lost his oar and we wait, almost patiently, for the airlines staff to bring us new boarding passes to permit us to leave, finally, this middle world, neither East nor West, a connecting point, a passage in the night.
Yet, my concerns and complaints last only a few hours, half a day, I know not the long and final passage that you made from the old world to the new. These days, we flit between these categories almost with ease (airport lounges offering us snacks, drinks & the ubiquitous internet...).
Only these 'gaonly' Bhutanese (Nepali) refugees accompanying me to remind me that once, too, my family left a traditional world, huddling, like refugees, between greater and more expansionist empires, seeking a home, a refuge, a sanctuary. Like these passing villagers traveling with hope and fear through the night with me, they found it in America, over a hundred years ago.
While I, a generation removed, went searching for some qualities of the world they'd left behind and found Nepal, dear Nepal, and a pilgrim's progress...
Now, distant, long passed, Great Grandmothers, I cross these distances by air, not sea, and find my own children on both sides of this aching planet, struggling themselves to find their feet in a world of categories, identities and biases.
May some of your courage carry them, as well, over the personal and physical seas that they must perforce traverse.
When they, too, look at your enduring photographs, may your strength be theirs, as well.
I think they're calling my flight tonight...
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Ananda Asked the Buddha
Ananda, feeling a bit sheepish about the wonderful times he shared with his
fellow monks and friends, asked the Buddha,
"Is being with good friends a part of the Dharma [Teaching]?"
To which Buddha replied,
"Being with good friends is the whole of the Dharma."
fellow monks and friends, asked the Buddha,
"Is being with good friends a part of the Dharma [Teaching]?"
To which Buddha replied,
"Being with good friends is the whole of the Dharma."
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Actual Playlist
I Will Follow You Into the Dark Death Cab for Cutie
Soul Meets Body Death Cab for Cutie
American Boy (feat. Kanye West) Estelle
Better Together Jack Johnson
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing Jack Johnson
Upside Down Jack Johnson
Foolish Games Jewel
Say John Mayer
Waiting On the World to Change John Mayer
Strange Fruit Josh White
Love Lockdown Kanye West
Across the Universe (remix) Rufus Wainwright
California Rufus Wainwright
Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk Rufus Wainwright
How to Save a Life The Fray
Over My Head (Cable Car) The Fray
Soul Meets Body Death Cab for Cutie
American Boy (feat. Kanye West) Estelle
Better Together Jack Johnson
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing Jack Johnson
Upside Down Jack Johnson
Foolish Games Jewel
Say John Mayer
Waiting On the World to Change John Mayer
Strange Fruit Josh White
Love Lockdown Kanye West
Across the Universe (remix) Rufus Wainwright
California Rufus Wainwright
Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk Rufus Wainwright
How to Save a Life The Fray
Over My Head (Cable Car) The Fray
iTunes Playlist for the Traffic on the New Year (5769)
i've just downloaded tonight's playlist bought off itunes @ 99 cents/song. making a daily wage as a consultant makes it fun to come home and feel like i deserve some reward for the x#!%@!! congested, commute across k'du.
no doubt the end of september traffic was compounded by nepal's frantic pre-desain shopping with the incremental, ineluctable increase in the numbers of motorcycles (that fill the gaps b/n the cars like mortar b/n bricks...) and shiny new family cars and mammoth suvs that have finally created unbelievable, unrestrainable havoc on the once charming streets of kathmandu. alas, no more...
one only wonders what will happen when the congestion simply comes to a halt. will it be a bit like the old joke, 'does a tree that falls in the forest make a sound if no one is there to hear?' will anyone in the world (besides those of us on the mean streets of kathmandu) even notice when this ancient city comes to a grinding halt by the excesses of modernity? will it be covered by cnn, bbc or al jezera? will there be an ironic column in 'the guardian' or by maureen dowd in the 'nyt'?
or will we be stuck permanently in the present continuous tense without moving. achieving a lifetime view of tundikhel with breakfast, lunch & dinner peanuts and popcorn available from the sidewalk merchants. the ritual excess of screeching horns & incessent honking... what a life??!!?
monday night it took me 1.5 hours to get from the un on pulchowk to mike's b'fast in gairidhara. i got into a micro (minivan) at the un, but had to stand bent over inside as there was no seat available. someone kindly held my day pack, still it was difficult to not fall over inside. when we only went about 200 m. in 15 minutes, i got out and walked given the incredible, unmovable traffic jam. i walked downhill from the un across the thapathali bridge to the giant mandala (only in kathmandu would a sacred mandala serve as a traffic circle!).
i waited again for a micro since the traffic cleared a bit and it seemed too far to walk all the way to durbar marg. i finally got a bus w/, amazing, space inside to sit down. since it was going all the way to tangal/bhatbatini, i stayed on through the urban nightmare of ratna park hordes and the lainchaur jam until it turned behind the ex-palace. then i walked in the dark from the gairidhara chowk to mike's breakfast restaurant, where i sat down in the dark (surprise: no electricity), ordered a gin & tonic (much deserved), opened a copy of 'newsfront' while i waited for shaku and leah to meet me. since we didn't have anything at home, and francis was with shaku, we all stayed & ate there before coming home.
in contrast, yesterday, since it was ghatastapana (the first day of desain), i had the good fortune to stay home in the bucolic quiet of our garden to work. so, at the evening hour, when it came time to head out to the hyatt hotel by boudha for rosh hasonah dinner, i dressed up and decided to enjoy the luxury of a taxi. for the princely sum of 250 =/ ($3.50), i could pass on the sardine micro ride and enjoy the start of the new year in the style to which i am accustomed (or used to be...).
rosh hashonah observes the annual migration of the local kathmandu jews, partial jews, struggling jews, buddhist jews, hindu jews and still wandering jews. it's actually quite a lovely and fascinating crowd. 'our crowd'. the long-term kathmandu-ites with others who are here for only a few years. there are dear teachers representing the best of lincoln school (suzi and shira), the kind-hearted israeli ambo and his wife (dan & gilli), the 'thulo-manches', the head of the world bank (sue) and world food program (richard) with their accomplished accompanied spouses (kai, david & marcela), worldly dharma students (andrea & judy), young israelis (who are here w/ micha), the israeli gm of the hyatt (gadi), underground jews who i hardly know and a slew of our own gorgeous, energetic and joyous kids. it's a very, very soothing and family-like evening to share the joys and hopes at the start of a new year (5769).
actually, besides the commute across town, my new two month undp consultancy is quite interesting. i've been asked to help design a civil society outreach strategy for the constitution-making project. it's quite a good team this time at undp, including a very thoughtful kenyan, sila, with whom i share a room who has been here for four years. sila worked w/ vso assigned to the national dalit scholarship endowment i'd set up through save the children (sc) & usaid. the fact that this endowment for dalit children is still running after fifteen years is one of my true joys of my sc years.
the undp project is actually a bit like an old friends home. the sc finance manager's wife, kalpana, works with the project, as well as budhi, a lawyer we worked w/ on an sc conflict mitigation project. the new project head, larry, is a canadian lawyer who's worked in the balkans and afghanistan. he seems a good, serious, gentle, reasonable soul.
the un has contracted me for 40 days work over the next four months. since i'm off to see the boys and m&d in the states on the 15th for three weeks, it's a good balance -- as long as i can keep the assignments coming in... after all, school fees for three lovely children hang over my head like the proverbial sword of damocles...
well, it's already 12:30 am so time to turn in. i'm upstairs in ms. leah's room where she & shaku have been asleep for a few hours already while i sit here and enjoy the downloads. many of these songs dear ezi turned us on to this summer from his ipod.
so tonight i tried to remember the names of the artists and the songs that he played for us. i'd already downloaded the snow patrol songs ('you could be so happy'), which are also brilliant, as well as the plain white t's ('hey there delilah'). great stuff!!
good night, moon!
no doubt the end of september traffic was compounded by nepal's frantic pre-desain shopping with the incremental, ineluctable increase in the numbers of motorcycles (that fill the gaps b/n the cars like mortar b/n bricks...) and shiny new family cars and mammoth suvs that have finally created unbelievable, unrestrainable havoc on the once charming streets of kathmandu. alas, no more...
one only wonders what will happen when the congestion simply comes to a halt. will it be a bit like the old joke, 'does a tree that falls in the forest make a sound if no one is there to hear?' will anyone in the world (besides those of us on the mean streets of kathmandu) even notice when this ancient city comes to a grinding halt by the excesses of modernity? will it be covered by cnn, bbc or al jezera? will there be an ironic column in 'the guardian' or by maureen dowd in the 'nyt'?
or will we be stuck permanently in the present continuous tense without moving. achieving a lifetime view of tundikhel with breakfast, lunch & dinner peanuts and popcorn available from the sidewalk merchants. the ritual excess of screeching horns & incessent honking... what a life??!!?
monday night it took me 1.5 hours to get from the un on pulchowk to mike's b'fast in gairidhara. i got into a micro (minivan) at the un, but had to stand bent over inside as there was no seat available. someone kindly held my day pack, still it was difficult to not fall over inside. when we only went about 200 m. in 15 minutes, i got out and walked given the incredible, unmovable traffic jam. i walked downhill from the un across the thapathali bridge to the giant mandala (only in kathmandu would a sacred mandala serve as a traffic circle!).
i waited again for a micro since the traffic cleared a bit and it seemed too far to walk all the way to durbar marg. i finally got a bus w/, amazing, space inside to sit down. since it was going all the way to tangal/bhatbatini, i stayed on through the urban nightmare of ratna park hordes and the lainchaur jam until it turned behind the ex-palace. then i walked in the dark from the gairidhara chowk to mike's breakfast restaurant, where i sat down in the dark (surprise: no electricity), ordered a gin & tonic (much deserved), opened a copy of 'newsfront' while i waited for shaku and leah to meet me. since we didn't have anything at home, and francis was with shaku, we all stayed & ate there before coming home.
in contrast, yesterday, since it was ghatastapana (the first day of desain), i had the good fortune to stay home in the bucolic quiet of our garden to work. so, at the evening hour, when it came time to head out to the hyatt hotel by boudha for rosh hasonah dinner, i dressed up and decided to enjoy the luxury of a taxi. for the princely sum of 250 =/ ($3.50), i could pass on the sardine micro ride and enjoy the start of the new year in the style to which i am accustomed (or used to be...).
rosh hashonah observes the annual migration of the local kathmandu jews, partial jews, struggling jews, buddhist jews, hindu jews and still wandering jews. it's actually quite a lovely and fascinating crowd. 'our crowd'. the long-term kathmandu-ites with others who are here for only a few years. there are dear teachers representing the best of lincoln school (suzi and shira), the kind-hearted israeli ambo and his wife (dan & gilli), the 'thulo-manches', the head of the world bank (sue) and world food program (richard) with their accomplished accompanied spouses (kai, david & marcela), worldly dharma students (andrea & judy), young israelis (who are here w/ micha), the israeli gm of the hyatt (gadi), underground jews who i hardly know and a slew of our own gorgeous, energetic and joyous kids. it's a very, very soothing and family-like evening to share the joys and hopes at the start of a new year (5769).
actually, besides the commute across town, my new two month undp consultancy is quite interesting. i've been asked to help design a civil society outreach strategy for the constitution-making project. it's quite a good team this time at undp, including a very thoughtful kenyan, sila, with whom i share a room who has been here for four years. sila worked w/ vso assigned to the national dalit scholarship endowment i'd set up through save the children (sc) & usaid. the fact that this endowment for dalit children is still running after fifteen years is one of my true joys of my sc years.
the undp project is actually a bit like an old friends home. the sc finance manager's wife, kalpana, works with the project, as well as budhi, a lawyer we worked w/ on an sc conflict mitigation project. the new project head, larry, is a canadian lawyer who's worked in the balkans and afghanistan. he seems a good, serious, gentle, reasonable soul.
the un has contracted me for 40 days work over the next four months. since i'm off to see the boys and m&d in the states on the 15th for three weeks, it's a good balance -- as long as i can keep the assignments coming in... after all, school fees for three lovely children hang over my head like the proverbial sword of damocles...
well, it's already 12:30 am so time to turn in. i'm upstairs in ms. leah's room where she & shaku have been asleep for a few hours already while i sit here and enjoy the downloads. many of these songs dear ezi turned us on to this summer from his ipod.
so tonight i tried to remember the names of the artists and the songs that he played for us. i'd already downloaded the snow patrol songs ('you could be so happy'), which are also brilliant, as well as the plain white t's ('hey there delilah'). great stuff!!
good night, moon!
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