Cruel World

Tonight I am in a great deal of pain.

It has nothing to do with snowboarding.

Tonight I came home from a weekend of isolation to find someone very special died.

I didn’t know him, and yet I knew him.

That fact alone upsets me.

He was the a partner of a amazingly inspiring friend who I love very much.

Life is so strange.

I was snowboarding down this little path today where the snow had not yet been touched,
I slowed down for a second, and in that second the board sunk into the snow throwing me softly on my back. The snow was so deep I couldn’t get up in my first two attempts. So there I lay, staring up at a beautiful sky with a hint of sun and snowflakes landing on my nose. I wasn’t thinking of him, I wasn’t thinking of anything. I started smiling, it felt good to be alive. I felt nothing.

And then I thought of the majority of the world that doesn’t have this good fortune that I do. Those who live in poverty. In warzones. In desperation. Suddenly the nothingness subsided into frustration and anger. Why do these ironies exist? Is this really life? Why do we allow it to work this way?

Sure plenty of things are unavoidable. But so many things in this world are created by we the occupants of this planet.

I just remembered saturday, when he died… where I was. I was angry and feeling sick. For some reason, lack of energy, strength, or concentration, I couldn’t hang on to the lift. I kept falling. Again I see irony. While I was fussing, being miserable and lonely, while hiking up endless hills of beautiful white snow, his struggle with sickness was ending.

And just to add to the irony, I come home to a safe and warm home, read about what has happenned, and decide that writing about this in my weblog is somehow noble.

The world is a perposterous place, filled with terrible irony. I’m part of those ironies, in some form. And just stating that does not magically exempt me from responsibility. Nor should it for you.

– in loving memory –
Juan Montealegre, August 28, 1966 – February 11, 2006

bm103 Zionism, Liberation, and Oppression

Growing up in Berlin during Hitler, then moving to British controlled Palestine, witnessing the creation of the Israeli state, Hanna Braun talks about the underlying agenda and the undeniable hypocracy therein.

AudioCommunique #103 (mp3)

In this show:

Edward Said on Finding the Truth
The way Arabs are drawn now, the was Jews were then = history repeating itself
Germany in the 30’s
Palestine and the zionists
The dream of a secular state
Defence Force, Paramilitary, and the use of violence
Evictions and clearing of villages
Ben Gurion, Ariel Sharon, etc.
Opposing Voices not allowed, Leaving Israel
Education
Activism

Music:

Edith Piaf – Jerusalem
Alpha Blonde – Jerusalem

I’m off to Winterberg, Germany again.. to practice my snowboarding and drink hot cocoa.

Checking in with Brooklynzoo

If you search the 2004 archives of this here blog, you’ll certainly come across the name Torontonienne, or as she would later be introduced into the blogosphere – Brooklynzon. And if you read through those posts from back then, you’ll recognize that she and I were fast friends and shared many an adventure in this fair city. But, as it always goes in Amsterdam, things change, people follow their calling which often requires a change of scenery. And so Brooke moved on to Berlin where she has taken to things like a fish to water.

How do I know that? Well it’s more of an assumption really. Being an urban butterfly, Berlin would logically fit well with her. And so tonight we had one of our occasional skype calls and asked each other questions about life and what’s going on. One thing for sure, our Torontonienne is going places. Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, and others, to be more specific. Sounds exciting to me. I’d better get myself over to Berlin before she sets sail, cause who better to wander the town with, then a fun and well-informed urban scientist.

Now back in the day, lots of people knew and loved her blog. And despite it’s retirement, there is most definitely a website of her photos and of course, where people still flood her with comments, her buzznet page. (now with video!)

Well… there you have it. Odd how time passes, things change, and people move.

Viva Costa Rica

The random February rain has arrived in Amsterdam. One minute sunny, the next, rainy. Which gives me a good excuse to have some whiskey with my dear Fleur, and to seek out blogs/guests for my upcoming podcast on the Costa Rican elections.

There’s one thing I love, above all about Costa Rica. – No military! I love it. As Yakov Smirnov would say — “what a country!”

Naturally there’s much more to love and learn from when it comes to Costa Rica. And so today I turned to the His Fault blog, for rants and commentary from an expat in Costa Rica. So far I’ve enjoyed his blog. Then there’s a Costa Rican in the Netherlands who blogs mostly in Spanish and its refreshing to read a blog in spanish about such a hip country. And the last one I’m trying out is Medea Material, mostly in Spanish, all about Costa Rica.

So there you have it, maybe you’re curious about the perfect weather in San José. Maybe you want to hear about eco-tourism and the important plants and species that one can find in this central American country. Now you’ve got somewhere to start.

As for the elections… runoff pending…

bm102 Al Lewis and Your Tax Money

My tribute to Grampa Al Lewis, a man who made me more aware of the world around me. In this program I pick apart the US Federal Budget.

AudioCommunique #102 (mp3)

On the Agenda:
Al Lewis Passed Away – A little on him
The Budget – Anyone can and should read through it
Budget Watchdog OMB
Washington Post Article
SIPRI’s information on Military Spending worldwide
What are the real priorities this budget reveals?
Short Term Cuts, Long Term Cuts
Hiding Defence Spending in Other Budgets
etc. etc.

Music:
Al Lewis intro
Specials – Bonediggin
NOFX – Murder the Government
Immortal Thought – The Poverty of Philosophy (and I mixed in samples of the budget press conference)
2-Pac – MilitaryMinds
Dead Kennedys – Government Flu

Watching Todays Students Reminds Me

It was January of 2000, and as I looked out the window of the plane, I could no longer see the Alps. For the past few hours I had been staring at them, occasionally looking away to say something to my new friend B. He was also from New Jersey, Fair Lawn to be exact, and we somehow we figured out back in Zurich that we were both heading to the same university for the semester. And so I looked out the window towards the city lights and the sea and I pictured myself walking amongst the Marseillaise, it was finally happenning, my study abroad in France had begun.

My host lady was coming to pick me up, while B’s was not so kind, so when he found the general direction towards the trains, I wished him luck on his first night and said – “see ya at school.” As I glanced left and right from the entrance of the little airport, i noticed everyone had melted away and it became oddly quiet. The silence gave me a moment to picture how I’d handle the introduction; I had taken a few years of French in high school and done fairly well, Dad was also quite good with the language, though he rarely practiced with me, and I had committed myself to reading LeMonde online every morning from 1997 to 2000, it was my training for this moment. And as Florence and her boyfriend Michel got out of their tiny car to greet me, I realized that while I could tell them how I think the Jospin government will fare or what I think of the rise of the far right party in southern France, I couldn’t do much with casual chats. But it didn’t matter. It is in this moments of panic that things just work for me… and that was no exception.

At some point during this first night in Aix-en-Provence, I blacked out. I mean my memory blacks out, I don’t think I did. I’m known to have a very bad long term memory, but I do remember being squeezed against my French Horn case in the back of the little Peugeot… and Michel would ask lots of questions. My responses were slow and usually in the affirmative. “Oui. C’etait bien. Je suis fatigue.” Most of the responses came back to this central theme. When I wasn’t sure of a sentence I would take it from Portuguese and magically transform it into French. Not sure how great it sounded, but it worked very well. Later I’d properly learn to speak the language and that strategy would still save me sometimes. We arrived at the block of flats that seemed indistinguishable from one another, home sweet home. I was shown to my room, and as I walked in I wondered how many other international students, be they American or Canadian or Italian, how many had come before me, and repeated this same proccess with these similar thoughts. It was my first night of an experience that would change the course of my young life forever.

Or maybe not. But I like to say it that way cause it sounds inspiring. I’ve been spending lots of time with new arrivals from the US here in Amsterdam. Young, inexperienced, inquizitive, ignorant, motivated, open-minded, ready to take on the world… they arrive. Sometimes it seems like torture to have to see it keep happenning over and over, like Groundhog’s Day. But mostly it unlocks memories that I thought I had lost, and takes me back to the night that started it all.