Whirling dervishes

A few days ago some Spanish cultural center organized an event after the iftar (that’s when Muslims break the fast at sunset during Ramadan) in a park downtown Damascus. Since the evening was rather pleasant I decided to attend it with some friends. The show I was attending featured dervishes and I must admit that up to that day I didn’t know much about them. I actually thought they were some kind of artists, dancers. 

The show was so overwhelming I was completely absorbed in it. It all starts just with music and singing. These are prayers, and often they simply repeat the name of their God, Allah – la illa-ha illa' llah - . I found the singing extremely sad, and apparently this is a frequent feeling even though not everyone experiences it the same way.

Dervish means doorway to god or enlightenment, and they are members of the most mystical and ascetic branch of Islam, the Sufi. Mystical because they believe mainly in respect, tolerance and love. Ascetic refers to their indifference toward material goods, pleasure and comfort.

The most recognized characteristic of dervishes is the way they dance. They whirl with their white skirts flying in circles with them. They can whirl for hours, and the idea is to go into ecstasy, or what they call wajd – finding, finding God, peace.

They always whirl from right to left, emulating the movement of stars and planets in the universe, also like the movement of blood around the heart. And if we think about life, it is in constant movement, the atoms, the planets, even us humans and our own circumstances. And these movements tend to be in circles, on one hand because we tend to do everything in cycles, on the other one because we look for beginnings and ends, we complete cycles and circles.

The movements of dervishes are full of symbolism, and understanding them makes you enjoy watching them even more. The leader of the group, the master, often simply stands in the middle of the room; he emulates the sun while the dervishes whirl around him. 

Dervishes hold their hands in unique positions, full of meaning. The right hand is lifted with the palm-out, towards God and his gifts. The left hand faces down, towards the earth, both to take its sustenance and to share god's gifts.

As for their clothes, the skirt is like a shroud but also it represents the sky. The hat interestingly puts a limit to the ego of the dervish because only by controlling or even eliminating any self egos can the dervishes have contact with God. 

While they whirl they seem to abandon their bodies, their eyes look lost in the horizon, or perhaps the complete opposite, totally lost in the deepest of their own selves. It is said that while watching them whirl it is possible to go into ecstasy with them. I can tell you for me it was an amazing experience, so peaceful and deep, even though I was surrounded by way too many people and the room had too much light.

la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah la illa-ha illa' llah

 * All pictures except the 2nd one were taken by la elfa

 

The Golan Heights

I had a chance to visit the Golan Heights just a few days ago, and it was both shocking and sad. For those who are not too familiar with the Arab-Israeli conflict, this is a very rich area of Syria that was illegally occupied by Israel back in 1967 during the Six-Day War. There have been talks at different points in time about Israel returning it to Syria but it never happened. However, in 1974 Israel did withdraw from a tiny strip of land in the Golan, and then they started building settlements in the remainder of the region. 

In the strip returned to Syria there is one city, only one, Quneitra, that hasn’t been rebuilt by the Syrian government. It is a reminder of what happened here, of what the neighbours are capable of, of why they must get back the other illegally occupied territories.

When in 1974 Israel decided to abandon, and thus return, this small part of Golan, they first made sure they destroyed all of it: houses, markets, schools. Only three buildings are still standing even if completely destroyed: the hospital, a church, and a mosque.

It is absolutely delirious. Breathtaking. Creepy. Distressing.

To give you an idea, here are some pictures that I took during my visit. Fyi this area is under UN protection and in order to visit it not only you need a special authorization of the Syrian government, also you are accompanied by a Syrian policeman at all times. 

Let’s start with the hospital, and keep in mind that in war time hospitals are not to be attacked, they are a no-no target, for quite obvious reasons. 

You might be able to read in the sign “Golan Hospital: It was destroyed and changed into a firing target and training place by Zionists”.

Please take 10 seconds to look at the images of the inside walls of the hospital.

As you keep driving you reach the church. Only the main walls remain.

Then you pass the market.

And this is the mosque, which today is only a minaret from which you have a 360` view of this destroyed city that seems like hell, like the aftermath of an awfully strong earthquake, or a bomb. It is absolutely delirious. Breathtaking. Creepy. Distressing.

Just a look at what was done to the houses of people is, once again, breathtaking and distressing. 

Over 100,000 people had to abandon their homes, their jobs, their lives, to flee from the Israeli invasion of their lands in Golan. Around 7,000 stayed. Since then they have been trapped. They are not allowed to get out, to go back to their country: Syria, which is just a few meters away. The Israeli government offers them the Israeli citizenship but less than 10% has taken it in the last 40 years. Those who flee the region during the war haven’t been allowed to go back to their houses either, because the region now belongs to Israel, illegally of course.

But why did Israel take over this land? Why so many years of war with their neighbours? The answer is the strategic geopolitical position of the Golan Heights. Actually it consists of the Golan Heights proper and the slopes of Mount Hermon. This region has an average altitude of 3,300 feet but in some areas it reaches up to 9,000 feet, an outstanding position to keep an eye on the neighbours. 

Furthermore, the Golan Heights supply a noteworthy amount of water to the region thanks to the Sea of Galilee and the Yarmuk River in the south, actually between 15% and 30% of Israel's water supply! As well, a large proportion of Israel's agricultural production is based here.

There won’t be peace between Syria and Israel until Israel returns the illegally occupied Golan Heights. Israel needs to go back to the pre-1964 war borders, established by the UN. And Quneitra is a good reminder of why it is so important for Syria to get it back.

* Pictures taken by la elfa

   

Any given weekend in Damascus

You might wonder what it is like to go out in Damascus. Well it is pretty similar to any Western country, or maybe more like a Mediterranean one, like Spain or Italy. People love to get together with their friends and families and there is always time for both.

The evening can start quietly with dinner and a narguile (shisha) and then comes the usual, bars and clubs. There are hundreds to choose from. I like rooftops because the views of the city at night are beautiful and because it is nice to enjoy the breeze, when there is one.

Cafés that have narguiles usually do not serve alcohol, however bars and clubs would be empty if they didn’t serve it! But watch out, going out is not cheap in Syria. Actually life in general isn’t cheap. You might be able to find cheap food but probably as an expat you don’t want to eat in those places. As for bars and drinks, it is common to pay a cover which includes an alcoholic drink (or two soft drinks), usually you’ll pay around 15$. I was out last weekend and we had a table reserved, we had to pay 40$ each, which included three drinks, not so bad I guess, but let me tell you, they pour very little alcohol in your glass!!

Don’t expect too many people out before midnight, again this is a Mediterranean culture and it seems like it is always too early to go out, and way earlier to go back home ;) I am not sure what time places are supposed to shut down because I have never stayed until the end, I am out of practice!

Women, I have said it before, always dress up really nice, they obviously take their time getting ready, fixing their hair and make up; but men are not less and they are always well dressed, again in a Western way: short dresses usually for women, jeans and shirts for men. Women are beautiful and very sexy, especially when they dance.

It is quite common to see old expats just staring at Syrians dancing, and Syrians seems to love being watched, after all that must be one of the reasons they take their time to look so good.

People here love dancing, and they do it like pros. It must be in their blood, like Latinos. They have a fabulous sense of rhythm and no self consciousness, and they are able to move their hips in a way that reminds me of Shakira, who has Lebanese roots. Hands, arms and head movements are also part of the dancing exercise. As for the music, there is always a mix between Arabic tunes, disco music that would sound anywhere else in the world, and a lot of salsa. They love salsa and they always assume I can dance it well, I am not sure why. But trust me, I can’t! And when I see them I certainly don’t even dare trying!

The city is extremely safe and you can walk around any time of day or night, even if you are alone. Taxis will try to make you pay extra if you are an expat, but if you insist they will use the meter and then you should just tip them. Anyways a taxi can take you to the other side of town for just 4 dollars.

So if you ever decide to visit Syria make sure you keep some energy for the evening and night, you will need it! But no worries, they spend the mornings of the weekend sleeping, which I admit didn’t take me long to adapt to!
   

Life in Damascus

Many of you have asked me about life in Damascus, what a day here is like. Well I can tell you a few stories.

For instance, today we have reached 115F according to the Internet, 120F according to the Government- which is completely abnormal!! I believe statistics say the average temperature in August is 90F, and this is the hottest month of the year (but it is only the 1st of August… can you imagine in a couple weeks?). Apparently the government has issued a warning because temperatures are expected to reach 122F and perhaps up to 131F in the next few days, an all time high.

Now imagine this heat while wearing a suit… mmmh, appealing, right? And then picture yourself in a taxi with no AC, going to a meeting. Sometimes I don’t know what is worse, to have the windows open or closed. People joke and say it seems like someone has placed a huge hairdryer on top of the country and it just keeps blowing hot air.

Then when you finally get to your meeting or to the office, trying to look nice and fresh, surprise! There is no power! Because there are now way too frequent power-cuts, which mean no charger for your computer, no internet, no cold water in the fridge, and of course no air conditioning. Power cuts weren’t too common a couple weeks ago but now demand has dramatically raised and also, I just found out, when heat goes up power production goes down, so if there is more demand and less production, you end up melting in your office, or in your house (it was 97F in my room yesterday after a 2-hour power-cut).

And that is not all; there is a shortage of water in Syria, a typically dry country, which usually is no problem in Damascus because all houses (or at least the ones for rich locals and expats) have big tanks on the roof that are refilled a couple times a week. So when there is no water coming from the government pipes, the one stored in the reservoirs is used. However, these reservoirs are like huge plastic kegs and they are in the roof, under this merciless and cruel sun, 115F… can you guess? The water is too hot, it burns! So you can forget about taking a shower until night, when if you are lucky temperatures go down to 95F (35C). I swear this is true (check the picture).

So this is how I have spent my day today. But tomorrow I will tell you about my weekend nights out, which are pretty fun. Oh, fyi weekends here are Friday & Saturday instead of the usual Saturday & Sunday, so Thursday night is a big night out, and Friday night is Salsa night!

I read the news today oh boy

I read the news today oh boy

About Indonesian Muslims praying in the wrong direction
They wonder if they will have to knock down mosques and build them again
But someone said Allah still hears their prayers, oh how fortunate
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to laugh

I read the news today oh boy

About the country celebrating the 10th anniversary of the President
What better than a 321 feet high flag-pole
The flag itself is 6,300 square feet
And though the news was rather dumb
Well I just had laugh

I read the news today oh boy

About Venezuela exhuming Bolivar’s body,
They are checking if he was poisoned by Colombia in 1830
Chavez announced it on Twitter
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to laugh

I read the news today oh boy

About a surprise hit reality show in Malaysia
Six handsome Malays compete to be the “most religious”
To win a trip to Mecca, a laptop and a car
And though the news was rather dumb
Well I just had laugh

I read the news today oh boy

About Enrique Iglesias promising to water ski naked
As a celebration for World Cup win
But this is not his first time
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to laugh

** All these news are real and were all published in the same edition of the only English newspaper available in the country. Thanks for such high quality editorial! **

Midan, all you need, any time of the day or night

I have a few months ahead and many places to discover in Damascus and in Syria. The only problem is the heat, it is 45C degrees (120F) today and even though we have been told this is not normal for the month of July, it will be in August. The heat is dry, which is easier to deal with, but still it seems like I will only be doing cultural stuff at night this first couple of months (also keep in mind during the day I work!).

My colleague’s friends took us driving around a cactus farm the other day and I was impressed by their shapes, colors and size! I had no idea you can eat their fruit, which they call figs (but they don't look like our figs), and that same night I tried them in Midan. These figs are actually delicious, juicy and refreshing.

Midan is a long but narrow street full of crowded tiny restaurants that serve mainly shawarmas. They are delicious and we have a few, first chicken then meat. We are told if we come back here alone we should only eat in the same places where they have taken us, just to be safe and sure that hygiene is taken care of. 

As I said the street is packed, there are people everywhere, eating, chatting, laughing. Everything is open 24 hours a day and families with kids are also enjoying, even though it is late at night! Some approach us, they want to talk a little bit, they are curious about where we come from and they also want to practice their English and their French. One family with two beautiful little girls sits behind us and while they wait for their food they tell us they are both doctors and their daughters study in an English school. They used to go to the American one, but it was shut down by the US government a couple years ago. The girls are way to shy to talk with us.

But the street doesn’t only have restaurants; there are also a few meat shops and one of the owners wants me to buy some fresh cuts. He insists, but there is no way I am buying anything in his shop. The guy is nice and ends up wanting to take a picture with me but I am seriously concerned about cleanliness in his shop, and I leave promising I will be back, even though I know I never will. 

Finally, one of the best parts of the street are the many shops that sell delicious little sweets typical of Syria. Each shop wants you to try theirs, for free, to prove theirs are better. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth as many of you know so after the third shop I just give mine to Marc when the shop owners can’t see me. 

These shops are mostly old Damascene houses and the decoration in the inside is beautiful and breathtaking. Also the display of the sweets itself is well taken care of and I just feel like buying boxes for my family. 

 

* Pictures by la elfa

  

World Cup in Damascus

I never thought watching the World Cup in Syria would be fun, mainly because I knew nothing about this country and had so many preconceived ideas of what I would find here, so many misconceptions created by the media.

Well I can now say it was a delight to watch the games in Damascus. People LOVE soccer here and I guess since Syria didn’t make it they were happy to simply cheer for other teams. I still remember the first game I watched here, it was Netherlands-Brasil and half the people in the bar had t-shirts and flags of Brasil, the others of the Netherlands. And they would cheer, and suffer and enjoy just like if it was their country playing. Because for them it wasn’t about who was playing, but about soccer itself. That is why after Spain defeated Germany there was no doubt, the whole country was with Spain, they deserve it they would tell me day and night, at work and in cafés. 

Another thing that has surprised me in Damascus is how westernized they are. It is such an open and tolerant city. You would probably expect to see most women covering their hair (I already knew they don’t cover their faces but this might come as a surprise to others), well it is the opposite, just a few women cover their hair, and even those who do most often wear a skirt!! Here they dress like we do; you see jeans, sandals, skirts, dresses, even tank tops. Ladies are pretty, they take care of their hair and makeup and several times I have found my self quite underdressed in a café. Men and women go out together, they enjoy smoking shishas (which they call arguile) and when night comes dancing is a favorite for Damascenes. 

The first time we went out I had to take pictures because I couldn’t believe I was in Syria. First of all we were in a beautiful rooftop, the entrance was around 15U$ and you could get either one alcoholic drink or two sodas. The views of the city once again were magnificent, and the view of the dance floor was too much to be real. It was salsa night, and also the night Ghana was kicked out of the World Cup after missing a penalty in the last minute of the game. Here no one really cared about the game even though there was a huge cinema-style screen in one side of the dance floor. 

People were just dancing in such a fancy, trendy and amazing way that I could only sit back and admire them. Then when the game got to penalties because neither Ghana nor Uruguay had been able to untie the game, the dance floor cleared and the music was turned down, the TV up. Everyone was now paying attention to the game. 10 kicks, Ghana was out, most of the bar seemed upset for about 10 seconds, and then the music was back, and so was the dancing.

Welcome to Damascus!

 * Pictures by la elfa

  

Small World

How many times have we heard it, the world is a tiny place! And I guess the more you travel the smaller it becomes. I have been in Damascus for a few days now and I am invited to watch a World Cup game with my colleague and his friends. When we get to the bar the two guys waiting for us look quite familiar, but I fear I am mistaking them with some other Arabs and I don’t say anything. Then one of them asks me if I have ever been to Damascus, he thinks he knows me. I tell myself this is too much of a coincidence, he looks familiar to me, and I do to him. So we start talking and 30 seconds later we know what is going on here….. he used to work in Abu Dhabi in 2008, I visited Damascus in 2008 coming from Abu Dhabi…. Well he was the one who processed and prepared my visa back then! I was not allowed to get a visa in Abu Dhabi because I was not a resident, but some well connected friends made a couple phone calls and bang this guy was asked by his boss to process my visa quickly and without asking questions. His signature and stamp are indeed in my passport!! Seriously, what are the chances of something like this happening?

 

Welcome to Damascus

As I land in Damascus I am stopped by customs’ agents who want to search my bag. Here is the situation: it is 2am, I have just landed in an unknown country and I am alone. After I pick up my bags from the belt and as I am getting ready to exit the terminal I am stopped by two customs agents who want me to open the bag I have had on board two different planes today and that has gone through security scanners in three airports already.

I am not too sure what is going on, but I certainly want to stay calm and let them do, I know there is nothing forbidden in my bag. Then, one of the agents, with very poor English (which is a million times better than my Arabic) says to me:

- Are you a professional?

Of course such a question concerns me... what does he mean?

He keeps asking

- Professional, technician, electronics?

What the hell is going on here? Still using his terrible English he manages to ask me if I have any kind of machine in there….. Finally I understand!

- Yes, I have a Wii.

- Wii? They ask while they try to figure out what I am talking about.

So I take it out of its pouch and show it to them, then I show them the remote and I crack them up when I show them the wheel of Mario Kart. While they are still laughing they welcome me into their country: MaRHba.

There is a driver waiting for me outside and he tells me he was quite concerned he would not be able to recognize me. Then while he lights a cigarette he laughs and says it was actually quite easy: not only was I the only woman traveling alone, I was also the only white woman in the plane.

As we drive towards the city he opens the roof of the car and I can see millions of stars welcoming me into this new adventure. In the horizon I can now see the city of Damascus. I get to the hotel around 3am and I am so tired and lonely that it is hard to fall sleep, but through my hotel window I discover the most amazing view of Damascus and I stay awake until sunrise, wondering what the future holds for me.

* pictures by la elfa
  

Get mad with me!! it is for a good cause!

The FAO has recently launched its newest campaign. They aim to make people aware of the important role they can play in changing the world and make it a better place. One billion people suffer from chronic hunger around the world and the FAO has decided it is time to put an end to it. We cannot keep looking the other way or denying such a cruel reality. And that is why the FAO is trying to get us all MAD AS HELL with the situation, so that we can all yell together “I AM MAD AS HELL and I am not gonna let one billion people go hungry”.

The video below presents it quite well, and there isn’t much I can add. (Great job Mr. Irons!!)

“{….}Everyone knows things are bad, it seems like we are stuck in a world where we cant change a single thing but the climate {….} We know things are bad, worse than that, they are crazy. {….} But we still think we are connected with all the people of the world. But that’s not true. People around the world suffer hunger, chronic hunger. 1 billion people, one billion of us. Now that’s bad, worse than bad, that’s crazy. And we got to get mad, I want you to get mad, I want you to get up right now, stick your head out of the window and yell I AM MAD AS HELL and I am not gonna let one billion people go hungry.”

That is what you and I should tell our politicians.

Answering machine of some Aussie High School

It might be fake but it is hilarious. And it is not only funny, it has a point... Maybe it will help some parents reconsider the way they educate their kids....

Salamat Cory

 The Filipino democracy was orphaned last August 1st, 2009, with the death of former President and National Hero Cory Aquino, the first woman president of any country in Asia and a worldwide icon of Democracy.

Hundreds of thousands of Filipinos of all age came out to the streets of Manila to say goodbye to their beloved and admired Cory, with tears in their eyes, likewise they had run to the streets of Manila in the early 80s to mourn her husband Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino, Jr., and again in 1986 during the People Power Revolution to peacefully install her as President. The country united and appeared as a one big family mourning its mother.

Born to a wealthy family in Tarlac, Maria Corazon “Cory” Sumulong Cojuangco Aquino was raised in religious schools in Manila and later sent to the US where she studied Liberal Arts. At the age of 20 she graduated with a Bachelor of Art in French, and a minor in Mathematics and she returned to Manila to pursue her studies in Law, which she abandoned a year later when she married Benigno Servillano "Ninoy" Aquino, Jr.

This probably became the first turning point in Cory’s life. Aquino was a well educated and wise young man, who became mayor at 22, and eventually governor. At 34 he was the youngest member of the Filipino Senate ever.

Meanwhile, she self-proclaimed herself a “plain housewife” and she took care of their 5 children. Despite being one of the most trusted advisors of Ninoy, she would only do so in private while in public she preferred to stay out of the stage, quietly in the background.

Ninoy Aquino soon became a lead critic of then president Ferdinand Marcos, and was regarded as a clear and serious opponent in the upcoming presidential election of 1973. However, the election never took place because Marcos declared martial law in September 1972 and then abolished the Constitution, which allowed him to remain in office. Ninoy Aquino was arrested along with other critics and opponents of the Government. He was imprisoned and sentenced to death. He spent seven years in prison until a key intervention from then US President Jimmy Carter led to Marcos authorizing Ninoy Aquino to leave for exile to the US.

This was clearly turning point number two for Cory, who often defined the next 3 years of her life as “the happiest”. She lived in peace, close to her husband and kids. What more could she have asked for? However it was a life Ninoy felt he needed to abandon to come back to the Philippines and fight for his people. He often said that “the Filipino is worth dying for”, like a prophecy of his own destiny, of his fate.

He returned without his family, who was to follow later, only to be murdered in the Manila airport.

As Cory saw yet again her life drastically change, she led the funerals for her husband with the support of millions of fellow Filipinos. Cory showed an incredible emotional and physical strength, and fought to keep your family together. For the next couple years she was never abandoned by the people, who mourned Ninoy by her side. The anger towards the Marcos regime became so intense that people lost their fear and started going out into the streets in such massive number that they couldn’t be stopped any longer. Ninoy had become a National Hero and she was the only hope for the Filipinos to regain freedom.

Late November 1985 Marcos announced a snap presidential election to be held just three months later, in February’86. Right then business tycoon Joaquin “Chino” Roces realized Cory would be the only person with a real chance to unite the different branches of the opposition against Marcos. Knowing Cory wouldn’t easily accept such a responsibility, he initiated the Cory Aquino for President Movement to gather one million signatures in one week for Aquino to run as president.

As expected Cory was reluctant at first, after all she was not a politician, and never meant to be one. But after locking herself in a convent for a ten-hour session of meditation, she accepted the immense challenge. Cory felt it was a continuation of Ninoy’s dream, and this gave her the strength and the courage to keep fighting.

The following months became tense and difficult, with an aggressive campaign from the Marcos side. The election was rigged and Marcos was soon proclaimed the winner. Violence broke out in the streets and Aquino called for a general strike, while the Catholic Church as well as the US Senate condemned the election.

 Hundreds of thousands of Filipinos jumped to the streets of Manila once again and they peacefully claimed Cory’s victory and demanded Marcos’ resignation, in a movement internationally known as the People Power Revolution. Worldwide known pictures of nuns on their knees praying in front of military tanks illustrate what the Revolution was. Eventually Marcos did indeed realize his fate and conceded the Presidency to Cory.

The success of the People Power Revolution was so unique that Cory Aquino was immediately recognized and acclaimed worldwide as an icon of democracy. It was then said that the Americans taught the Filipinos democracy but through the Revolution the Filipinos taught the world.

In three years Cory went from being a housewife and mother to a worldwide icon. She was suddenly on front covers of magazines and newspapers all over the world, and she knew she couldn’t have done it without the Filipino people, same as they couldn’t have done it without her. And that is how they all became one big family.

As President she faced many difficulties, such as an extremely weak and damaged economy, several coups d’état, and natural disasters. When her term came to an end Cory retired to private life, making a few come backs to the limelight when she felt her people and her country needed her most.

Overall Cory will be remembered as the person who fought and stood up for Democracy, the one who re-established a Constitution with important legal and land reforms, and guaranteed the social and human rights of her people. And above all, Cory will be remembered as the Mother of the modern Filipino Nation and an example of integrity, decency and selflessness.

Today Filipinos can only say Kindi ka nagiisa, Cory. Salamat. You are not alone, Cory. Thank you.

 

A day to remember

I bought the paper in the morning and once in the elevator I started reading the headlines. None made sense, none. It was dated March the 18^th, 2009… March? It is August people… so I went back to the shop and I got a new one. Now things were making sense again, or so I thought.

My morning meeting is in a nearby city, which used to be a village, if that makes any sense. The mayor is meeting with me again to discuss some business, but when I get there she is all excited about something else. First thing she says is I have a present for you and while I think Oh yeah, I love presents I actually say Mayor a present for me? No, you shouldn’t have… and I stop there because I realize her present is a magazine. She carefully opens it and hands it to me with pride. It is her. I mean, in the magazine. There is an article about her under the section Power and style, and next to it a full-page picture of her wearing a pinkish gown, and plenty of make up.

 Come on say something, whatever, but say something is what I think while I look at it, and before I get a chance to do so I hear her voice asking would you like me to sign it for you?. She grabs the magazine back and writes a couple of lines before signing it and all I can do is smile.

Back in my city I meet this really nice fellow who happens to speak perfect Spanish as he spent 6 years in Madrid, my home city. At some point he mentions he has some friends here who are also from Madrid, and offers to organize a dinner so that we can all meet. I think it is a fantastic idea until he actually says it will be great, we are all the same age, 37-38. But hey, I am under 30, mate. I say nothing; I just smile, because once again I don’t know what to say.

Then I make a quick stop by my office in between meetings. When I am ready to leave I do as usual, walk to the parking, open the door of the seat behind the driver, drop my bags and laptop, close the door, walk to the other side of the car and when I am about to open the back door, Lawrence drives away. At first I assume he thought I couldn’t comfortably open the door and he is going to move the car a few feet, but no, he keeps driving and goes through the gate. At this point I still think he is just going to stop by the gate but he keeps driving while everybody around –all drivers and security guys- start yelling Hey! Hey! But he cant hear them and I cant but laugh out loud. The security guys run behind the car while the other drivers look at me surprised by my laugh.

Meanwhile in the car Lawrence is talking to me and when I don’t answer one of his questions he turns around and realizes I am not in the car. I can imagine his heart speeding up, and some sweat breaking out of his forehead. He stops in the middle of the street, gets out of the car and walks back towards me while cars are stuck behind, honking and annoyed. Lawrence looks embarrassed while I have tears of laugh in my eyes. He knows the rest of the staff will make fun at him for the next few weeks. We both smile and say nothing.


To finish the day I meet with this very high up guy and his team. He introduces me as one of the leading economic analysts and consultants in town…. Really? Well.. after such a day I guess I can take this one with another big smile, and say nothing.

There are days all you can do is smile, and say nothing.

Life in the island

Next week June will die and half of the year will be gone. Time goes by and while days seem to never finish, weeks pass so quickly that sometimes I am surprised it is almost July.

Life is good, we have traveled, we have received visits from family and friends, and more are to come. The island treats us well and diving has opened our eyes to a new and fascinating world.

I thought I would feel uncomfortable under water and that is why despite the fact that I wanted to experience the high of diving, I had never considered the idea seriously. Then we got here, my birthday came and Mr. A made plans; suddenly we were in a pool dressed with this funny and heavy equipment, and then in a boat doing a back jump into the ocean. That moment always surprises me.

You see, I always feel kind of lazy and anxious before diving. I’m on the boat, the sun is warm, and then I have to put on the suit, the equipment, booties, gloves, and the heavy tank! While I sit on the side of the boat ready to jump out I always feel the pain of the weight on my back, then I jump and as soon as I touch the water I feel free, weightless, relaxed.

Underwater I literally feel like a fish in the water. It will never stop surprising me how despite you being there fishes seem to keep going with their lives. You are no more as a human the center of the universe; you suddenly become a mere spectator of a world that you don’t rule. You have a limited time to do so, and that is part of the game. If you could stay for ever it might get old, but this way you never have enough.

Underwater life is quiet and slower, your movements adapt to that rhythm and the tiniest little thing becomes the most fascinating you can possible imagine. What a contrast with normal life where nothing surprises us any more, where movement, speed, violence, stress, surround us.

If I could choose I would probably be a fish in my next life, normal with only one condition: a guarantee that I would live in a reef in the Philippines. I don’t want to be one of those sad little goldfishes trapped in a round tank looking at life without really living it, just like I don’t want to become a person trapped in a cubicle in some office, while the world is out there.

Charleston, 21st century style

I love this video, it makes me laugh and feel happy...!