Clichés on how to achieve success or happiness abound: "Follow your bliss", and "Take the road less travelled", or "You are the master of your destiny", and so on; however, as I have come to realise, clichés do not turn into clichés for no reason: they often carry a grain of truth with them.
It seems clear to me that we all have a unique destiny. Or perhaps I cannot speak for anyone else but myself. It also seems to me that we are on a constant search: for meaning; for happiness; for connection; for understanding; for TRUTH; whatever. In my particular case, this search is usually going on quietly, and many times appears to have been overtaken by more immediate and seemingly more important things, but every now and then it quietly raises its head, and in its polite but firm way demands my attention, as if to say: “you are in danger of losing your focus: the search must go on”.
One moment on this journey stands out in my memory: I was in my early 30s and I had been away from home for a while. This one time a couple of old friends and I took a train together on our way to the wedding of another friend of ours, and as the chatter grew around me, I looked forward to reconnecting with everyone. Across from me sat Lydia looking quietly out of the window at the passing scenery, so I decided to start with her. I asked about what had been going on with her, and in turn told her about what had been going on with me. She told me about having her children, and moving into the suburbs, and building their family home, and I told of the people I had met on my travels, and the ways in which my world view had changed, and all the ways I had begun to question my previous experience, and so on, but I noticed that all through this she sort of kept staring quizzically at me, and finally she interrupted me, and with a voice of wonder asked: "What happened to you, Vive? You used to be normal!"
Bam!
"You used to be normal!"
Well. Understandably my whole flow was cut off, and I was left blinking in confusion and trying to collect my wits. I do not remember how I responded, or how the whole meeting ended (we had almost the entire journey still ahead and we had to continue talking about something), but that statement really took me aback. What did she mean I was not normal? What did it mean to be normal? In fact I did not recall ever having thought of people as either being normal or not, unless they were mad, which I assume was not the case here. I may have tried to ask her what she meant, and she must have given me a version of what I was to hear again and again from then on: I basically did not fit the image of a African woman of my age, education and family background, and people did not know what to make of me. At any rate, that was the beginning of a life of often feeling cut off, isolated and misunderstood, and of beginning to really wonder what it was that was different about me, and how that would evolve. Pretty soon I realised that in fact I had a hand in this evolution, so why not create a future to my liking, rather than let events overtake me. And so I began to dream it.
This weekend I learned that this was all very well, but on the journey towards the balanced, peaceful, happy and true self that you dream of, you have to throw off a number of shackles. Most amazing was that I already knew these things, but that I did not really know them; it took spending a weekend with two very wise women for these things to really clarify in my mind.
[Small aside: for three days I stayed with an older gay couple that I had met through the couch surfing community, and the insights that I mention below were the result of all of a sincere effort to get to know one another, and therefore each of us trying to explain as best as we could who were; in that process, we all discovered a lot about ourselves that we had never realised before]
1. Own your destiny.
The question here is: is our destiny predestined or do we create it? Many a time we are encouraged to dream big and to reach for the stars, and told that we create our own destiny. Our own reality. Well. A process of creation must at some point come to completion, and then what has been created must fully manifest. I have certainly taken the pains to create a destiny for myself, in which I teach and inspire others, in which I am healthy and fit, in which I travel the world in style, in which I live in a community of like-minded people, in which I share my life with the partner that I need or deserve and in which I have an impact on the educational system of my country. Strangely enough, as attractive as this dreamed future was to me, I was actually afraid of the reality of this destiny being fulfilled. Why? Because it would mean that I would have to take a position of leadership, and that everybody would have expectations of me. I have seen what happens to people who stand out at the front: their every move is scrutinised, their most innocent action misconstrued, all sorts of judgements publicly and vehemently held, and I unconsciously shied away from these inevitable consequences of my destiny. Worse, I imagined that people would always be trying to take from me: my energy, my time; they would feel free to fill up my space, and in all this I would be un-able-to- say-no.
No.
Well.
And there we had it. Peeling back another layer, I found out that I actually have a dread of saying no. Of making a clear stand in the face of disapproval. For being responsible for others feeling uncomfortable or threatened. For maybe not living up to people’s expectations of what was proper and sane. Peeling back another layer though, and I remember saying this like “[haaallo?] I do not want people to think of me as selfish.”
S-E-L-F-I-S-H
And my host goes: “Aha. Now we are getting to the bottom of things. Of course you have to be selfish. Every time you do anything that meets your needs you are going to feel selfish, but you must do it!” So I thought about that for a bit, and I think many women know this feeling. Being (un)selfish for me meant having to give of my resources (time, money, space, etc.) to people, simply because we shared blood, or were neighbours, or co-workers, even if we were not friends. I felt this way every time I decided to skip a presentation by a colleague because I did not find the material particularly interesting (plus we were not friends), or did not contribute to or attend the wedding of someone in my volleyball club (with whom we were not particular friends anyway), or not sitting down and keeping a relative company, that was visiting from out of town, when I would rather be watching a movie (ok, that still sounds a little improper, but objectively speaking they are usually visiting with my parents, and we did not really know each other. “Well”, someone will say, “You should get to know your relatives”; “But why?” I will ask… “Because. They are your blood”. Well. That just does not cut it I’m afraid). In our collectivist societies it is difficult to live as an individual who reserves the right to share oneself. I often think that perhaps I discriminate against certain people, but really if we are unable to connect, for whatever reason, maybe we speak a different language, or hold different beliefs – we are simply on different journeys, and it is a fruitless waste of energy to try and connect with such a person, and to what end? To be polite? To fit in? I just do not know.
Anyway. That brought me round to my usual tirade about maybe I was prideful or unloving or all sorts of things that mean one is a bad person, but then wait! I thought: is the focus on ME not wanting to be a bad person or on not wanting OTHERS to think that I was a bad person? I mean really, if I went about my business, doing what I do, thinking what I think, people were free to come to whatever conclusions they wished about me. I could not help that. What I could help was this continuous self-judging. So in the end it came down to knowing that I could not control how others responded to me, because in fact it all had NOTHING to do with me, but with them. Why should I shoulder the burden of others judging me. What a liberating thought that was. People would think, feel, speak, act as they wished in response to what I said or did and I could not control that. I need only focus on what I need to do to continue on my journey.
2. Accept others without judgement
Just as important as owning your own destiny, is to be able to accept others without judgement. The Bible really hits that nail on the head: "Judge not, lest you be judged". It is probably best not to be concerned about not being judged since one cannot control it, but making a habit of accepting others without judgement enables you to brush off the judgement of others more easily (I suppose). So maybe you are unable to connect with this person. Ok. It is how it is. There is no need to add a judgement on top of that. View them with compassion; understand that their journey is different from yours. This weekend I realised that I often look at the actions or decisions of others through the lens of: "I would never do that, that was a silly decision", or whatever, and which leads me to judging them, and often deciding that I like or do not like them or approve or whatever. WHY?? And how about the people that are in your life for whatever reason. Your friends and relatives. Your co-workers. My two godmothers from this weekend helped me see that one cannot truly connect with anyone if they are simultaneously judging them. I realised that to truly connect with someone is to be present with them, to listen with an open heart to what they say about themselves, and to accept them without judgement. They are relating their journey to you. It is how it is. It is not your journey, and never can be. You do not know what decisions you would have made in their place, and you will never know, (why?) because it is not your journey. Yours is to either decide to journey alongside them or not.
3. Speak your truth.
Turning the focus away from what others are doing or might do or have done in the past allows one to tune in to themselves; to be present in the moment; to listen, and to hear the truth within them. And in hearing and knowing the truth, our communication, verbal and non-verbal, will be truthful. Both to ourselves and to others. Many times we make decisions based on what we think is expected, or what will make others comfortable, and ignore what is good for us, or what we need. These projections that we make, in any case, are usually based on inadequate information. You have met people who can convey a certain image, but deep down they feel differently. You cannot even conclude anything based on what others say, so making a decision based on that will lead you into trouble. You may be afraid of how others will react, but accepting that you cannot control what other people do or feel, it is easier to calmly and sensitively hold to and communicate your truth. If the people around you do not like it, they will leave your space, and release you from that interaction. If, on the other hand you have established a proper connection, then in all likelihood you will only make that connection deeper and stronger. So speak your truth when you need to, and do not be held back by how others will react to it. Remember: their reaction is taking place on their journey, not yours.
Onwards and Upwards
I am sure many other seeds were planted this weekend, and as I continue on my journey I pray that they will take root and bear fruit. At any rate I feel really grateful at this moment, and feel excited about what happens next.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
On Connection
Growing up, I was a very shy person. I preferred my own company vastly more than that of other people, and unbeknownst to me, had a constant scowl on my face. In my teenage, some kind girls advised me to iron out the furrow on my forehead and smile more. So I did. And soon I had more friends (not that I missed having them before), and suddenly a whole world of social conventions opened up to me. Over the almost two decades since, I have continuously been amazed at some basic ways that fail to observe social conventions: being too invasive, or too stand-offish, sometimes too dominant, and other times too direct. All this despite what my true intentions were: to put people at ease, to understand and be understood, and for all everyone to get along.
Through these years I nevertheless maintained some of my earlier mechanisms to keep people at bay. I barely ever made eye contact with strangers; I categorised and judged people, so that I did not have to engage with those who were too different from me; I cultivated a tough and no-nonsense exterior; among other things. And it worked very well. One of the things that was often said about me was “she is really a nice person once you get to know her” – but not many people got past the thorny exterior. My issue was always that once they got to know (and maybe like) me, then they would discover that I was not perfect, that I was sometimes moody or irrational for instance, or that I supported gay rights, or that I bit my nails and sometimes picked my nose, and then they would really know me for who I was, and that was just scary. If not that, then I dreaded having to tell them no if they asked for more than I was willing to give, for fear that they would feel bad or rejected. In short I just was not willing to do the work required to manage relationships, so I chose safe relationships. Those that I could manage. Those with people similar to myself. Those with people who accepted me unconditionally.
Recently I decided to listen to some Buddhist teachings that a friend of mine gave me; at first I listened idly as I packed for a weekend away, but without realising it I begun to really listen and reflect on what was being said. Some of the ideas that the teacher was trying to communicate had to do with our perceptions of reality (well, naturally; that is the crux of Buddhist teaching), and he made references to what I assume are common ways of exploring reality. He spoke of the fact that we humans view things as separate, such as thinking of a mountain as a "mountain", as if it is separate from the ground around it, or a river as a "river", when in fact water is flowing through it all the time going someplace else, and it's character is ever changing. In addition, we think of this "mountain" or "river" as separate from us, or of other humans as separate from us, when in reality we are all part of one continuous, ever changing whole. Even people who think of themselves as "I", as if this is some permanent thing that continually exists have a wrong view of themselves, because in fact we are continually "becoming", changing, growing, ageing; getting wiser, having new insights, breathing in this air and breathing out that air. Swallowing things. Excreting things. And so on.
The other idea that he shared that captured my attention was the idea of time, and how our culture has led us to believe that time is a linear entity; that there is a past, a present and a future. Never mind that Einstein showed that time was in fact relative, and that if you were moving fast enough, it stood still, and that as such, the only "time" that exists at any one time is the present moment. Nevertheless, we are often skipping back and forth between the (imagined) future and the (remembered) past, both of which do not exist in reality. On the contrary, the teacher gave an illustration of time being less like a linear progression from past to present to future, and more like a flower that is constantly unfolding, so that one is only ever experiencing the present moment.
These ideas gave me pause. I realised that I never really focus on the present. That I am usually simultaneously thinking of the past, of things far and near, or all sorts of things except the present. Me typing now. The cars whooshing past outside. Even when I am speaking to a person, I am often having an underlying conversation about the conversation - wondering what the expected answer is; what they think of my previous answer; where this conversation is going; how it relates to our last conversation; if my office looks untidy; what is on my computer screen; I wonder if so-and so has replied my e-mail; and on, and on. So I had to ask myself: is there value in experiencing the present? In really looking at a person? In really hearing what they are saying? In really responding to it as it is presented in the moment, without projecting all sorts of things from the past and future on it? In really focussing on the now?
This clamour of thoughts and projections and impressions and hopes and fears, and the desire to please, to be liked, to impress, to be understood (rather than to understand), surely impedes our ability to truly connect. To hear what is really said. To understand. And therefore to enable us to accept things as they are without passing judgement. And not only do we fail to connect with others in that case, but we also fail to connect with ourselves. To hear what our bodies and minds are telling us. To examine our energy, and our response to the other's energy. To make decisions based on what's really going on, rather than what we would like to be going on.
In a follow-on post, I will tell about an experience of connection that brought me new insight into the value of connection. But for now, I need to write an e-mail to a friend of mine, because I have not connected authentically with him in the past.
Through these years I nevertheless maintained some of my earlier mechanisms to keep people at bay. I barely ever made eye contact with strangers; I categorised and judged people, so that I did not have to engage with those who were too different from me; I cultivated a tough and no-nonsense exterior; among other things. And it worked very well. One of the things that was often said about me was “she is really a nice person once you get to know her” – but not many people got past the thorny exterior. My issue was always that once they got to know (and maybe like) me, then they would discover that I was not perfect, that I was sometimes moody or irrational for instance, or that I supported gay rights, or that I bit my nails and sometimes picked my nose, and then they would really know me for who I was, and that was just scary. If not that, then I dreaded having to tell them no if they asked for more than I was willing to give, for fear that they would feel bad or rejected. In short I just was not willing to do the work required to manage relationships, so I chose safe relationships. Those that I could manage. Those with people similar to myself. Those with people who accepted me unconditionally.
Recently I decided to listen to some Buddhist teachings that a friend of mine gave me; at first I listened idly as I packed for a weekend away, but without realising it I begun to really listen and reflect on what was being said. Some of the ideas that the teacher was trying to communicate had to do with our perceptions of reality (well, naturally; that is the crux of Buddhist teaching), and he made references to what I assume are common ways of exploring reality. He spoke of the fact that we humans view things as separate, such as thinking of a mountain as a "mountain", as if it is separate from the ground around it, or a river as a "river", when in fact water is flowing through it all the time going someplace else, and it's character is ever changing. In addition, we think of this "mountain" or "river" as separate from us, or of other humans as separate from us, when in reality we are all part of one continuous, ever changing whole. Even people who think of themselves as "I", as if this is some permanent thing that continually exists have a wrong view of themselves, because in fact we are continually "becoming", changing, growing, ageing; getting wiser, having new insights, breathing in this air and breathing out that air. Swallowing things. Excreting things. And so on.
The other idea that he shared that captured my attention was the idea of time, and how our culture has led us to believe that time is a linear entity; that there is a past, a present and a future. Never mind that Einstein showed that time was in fact relative, and that if you were moving fast enough, it stood still, and that as such, the only "time" that exists at any one time is the present moment. Nevertheless, we are often skipping back and forth between the (imagined) future and the (remembered) past, both of which do not exist in reality. On the contrary, the teacher gave an illustration of time being less like a linear progression from past to present to future, and more like a flower that is constantly unfolding, so that one is only ever experiencing the present moment.
These ideas gave me pause. I realised that I never really focus on the present. That I am usually simultaneously thinking of the past, of things far and near, or all sorts of things except the present. Me typing now. The cars whooshing past outside. Even when I am speaking to a person, I am often having an underlying conversation about the conversation - wondering what the expected answer is; what they think of my previous answer; where this conversation is going; how it relates to our last conversation; if my office looks untidy; what is on my computer screen; I wonder if so-and so has replied my e-mail; and on, and on. So I had to ask myself: is there value in experiencing the present? In really looking at a person? In really hearing what they are saying? In really responding to it as it is presented in the moment, without projecting all sorts of things from the past and future on it? In really focussing on the now?
This clamour of thoughts and projections and impressions and hopes and fears, and the desire to please, to be liked, to impress, to be understood (rather than to understand), surely impedes our ability to truly connect. To hear what is really said. To understand. And therefore to enable us to accept things as they are without passing judgement. And not only do we fail to connect with others in that case, but we also fail to connect with ourselves. To hear what our bodies and minds are telling us. To examine our energy, and our response to the other's energy. To make decisions based on what's really going on, rather than what we would like to be going on.
In a follow-on post, I will tell about an experience of connection that brought me new insight into the value of connection. But for now, I need to write an e-mail to a friend of mine, because I have not connected authentically with him in the past.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Rudderless
SIIIIIGHHHH
I feel at quite a loss. I have been struggling to get some work done on my PhD research for the last month but I find myself totally without motivation on most days. I am beginning to be anxious about all the time I am wasting and being afraid that I may end up paying a very heavy price for this procrastination! I thought I was more self driven than this but alas! A friend of mine told me once that one of the most valuable lessons she picked up during her own PhD study was the ability to drive herself, and I am must say she is one of the most self driven people I know.
I am aware that every difficulty in our lives is meant to teach us a valuable lesson and make us stronger, if only we can embrace the lesson. In my particular case, things are made worse by the feeling that I have somehow bungled a very promising relationship. I met this guy through an online dating service, and over a period of four or five days we spent hours and hours writing to one another, building up to our first meeting which we both highly anticipated, if with trepidation and uncertainty. Out of the blue though, he suddenly cut off ALL communication, and it has been almost a week since he was last in touch. Although we were in touch for less than a week, he and I got along so well and seemed so compatible, and both admitted to having developed quite strong feelings over that short period, that his sudden silence really hit me hard! I have since achieved a semblance of calm and resignation, but still experience sudden moments of piercing longing and regret, and over all cannot get back my groove pre-meeting him, a groove that was decidedly precarious to begin with.
Over the weekend though, I watched a documentary on Quantum Mechanics and what it means for our daily life, and one of the most profound messages it had for me was the notion that we are all essentially a mass of energy, and that as such have complete control over the state of our bodies and emotions (I had heard of a similar idea in "The Secret"). The film makers postulated that the very idea of being "helplessly" in love with a specific person was quite preposterous, and was rather only evidence of the addiction to the feeling one comes to associate with the loved one's presence; apparently, at any time one may wean oneself off this person simply by mastering this addiction. Given the emotional attachment that had been engendered through the intensive contact with this guy over the previous few days, this notion certainly gave me hope of a quick recovery; indeed, I felt as if God Himself was speaking directly to me an dmy situation.
Today is Tuesday, and although I have had bursts of productivity since the work week begun, I am yet to fully recover my usual steam. Yesterday I erased all our previous contact and contact information because I was making myself crazy continously scanning it to see where it went well wrong. This made me feel really sad, and today I seem to still be going through withdrawal. Given the intensity of our contact however, a part of me is convinced that he only got cold feet (rather than lost interest) and will get back in touch when he makes up his mind to go for it after all. I wonder if I will have the courage to give it another go; A part of me tells me he is not to be trusted and I shoul dnever speak to him again, another tells me that he really may have genuinely freaked out and decided to take the time to give the whole thing furhter thought. At any rate, all that has nothing to do with me until he actually gets back in touch, so in the meantime, I occupy myself with other suitors, and try to really turn towards them and engage with them. Who knows? I might develop an attachment to one of them in the process, and find decide that I have found "the one" (another apparently ridiculous concept) after all.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Graffiti City
My feet are killing me.
A seasoned tourist like myself will tell you that trying to take in all the sites in a new city is never a good idea, but somehow this knowledge goes out the window every time I enter a new city!!!
BERLIN! :-D
First stop this morning, naturally was the Berlin wall, or what's left of it anyway. Interesting enough but rather underwhelming; to be fair though, most of it was torn down so there's not much left to see. I hear it is such a tourist favourite that parts of the old wall are being rebuilt again... Yeah, I know: crazy! After the token photos on both sides of the wall, I rushed off the catch the last remaining movie of the Berlin Film Festival, but due to having to make so many changes on the underground and over ground public transport I was 15 minutes late and I could not get in. Boy was I disappointed!! Being directed by Ralph Fiennes and featuring him and Butler-what's-his-name, I had hoped to spot, and maybe get an autograph but well... I walked back down the street towards the metro again so dejected my shoulders were actually drooping; the fierce windy cold only added to my misery :-(
I finally managed to pick myself up again and move on to the other attraction on the agenda: The Jewish Museum. More changes of trains and things and out I came of the underground at the specified station, and sure enough there was a sign saying "Jüdische Museum Berlin: 550m". After a few minutes another sign: 450m; then 300m. On I walked. Bitter cold. My cheeks and forehead are burning despite pulling down my hat almost over my eyes. My feet are freezing as well and I feel as if they are literally contracting within the shoes because the shoes begin to feel a little loose. Up ahead I see the distinctive "U" sign indicating another metro station, and with a sinking feeling realise I walked all this way when I could have come out one station further. Ah well. I walk past it and keep looking around. I am thinking that surely I should have arrived by now so I stop and look back down the street I just walked up. I imagine, being such a big attraction, it would surely have been easy to spot; I think of asking a local but they all do not look too inviting... Finally I spy another one of those forked sign posts and walking up to it I find that it says the Jewish Museum was 750m the other way!!! What? Did I read the other sign wrong? Had all that walking been for nothing? Sighing but still determined to press on, I made a half hearted attempt to begin walking back but my painful feet had other ideas: I found myself back in the underground and headed back to the hotel before you could say Yom Kipuur!! The Museum would have to wait.
After resting a little and getting some lunch, I felt revived enough to head out again about three hours later to join a pre-organised tour of the historical section of the city. I have to say that although it was even colder by now (-11° accounting for wind chill), this tour more than made up for my earlier frustrations; I came away with tons of information about the history of the city and saw some magnificent old and new buildings. Nevertheless, my most enduring memory of Berlin, probably because I spent so much time in metro stations and looking out of the train windows, will be the graffiti on practically every available wall space. The inhabitants of this city certainly have a lot to say that they simply cannot put into words, and considering their hard history (from World War I, to Hitler, to the Berlin Wall), I do not wonder.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Time to cut the apron strings
My baby sister was born when I was ten years old. It often fell to me, as the oldest child, to decode the mysteries of life to her, and my strongest memories of her childhood was being bombarded with "why this" and "why that" and "why, why, why!"; that and "please take me to so-and-so's to play" Looking back, I cannot have been more than 13 or 14 at the time I had the power over whether or not she could go down the road to play with her neighbourhood friends.
Fast-forward 20 years: she is a young lady, recently graduated from her Masters, widely acknowledged as stylish, poised and responsible. All agree that under her family's combined tutorage, she cannot set a foot wrong; her future is all but assured. Sure, she has had the odd mis-step, a major heartbreak, and a few bruises, but it would be stretching it to say that she has faced any truly trying moments (except perhaps for the heartbreak - that was pretty rough, how rough we may never know)
I know you hear a "but" coming, and you are right: I find myself unable to relinquish the power that I once held over her going down the road to play with her friends, or provide all the answers to her "why" questions. In short, I am unable to cut the proverbial apron strings. This flash of realisation hit me on the first day of 2011, when for the hundredth time I caught myself bitterly complaining about her choice of boyfriend. In my opinion, and truth be told, many of her friends and family share it, she is totally wasting her time with him. By her own admission, he was the safe choice after her big heartbreak, and she while she can be with him now, she does not see a future with him!
Believe me when I tell you that I have examined myself concerning my motives regarding this matter, especially being the unmarried older sister for whom apparently no one has ever been good enough. Maybe I have no business imposing my impossible standards on her, or more precisely, imposing MY standards at all. After all, when I pressed her recently to tell me what really drives her to continue in this relationship she told me that the man makes her happy. Now really, what else do I want to hear? Nevertheless, I pressed further:
"Happy?" I asked "Why? How?"
"Well, he likes me; he is good to me; he, I mean..." she trailed off.
"Chick, so what if he likes you? That is irrelevant if you do not feel the same!"
"Yeah, I know, but - well, he likes me! He is nice to me. He has been there for me... Given all this, I recently decided to give it a chance, and date him properly"
"Date him properly?" I exclaimed, "What, out of gratitude? How can you say you see no future and then in the same breath decide to 'date him properly'? Both those statements cannot be true: one has got to be a lie."
Sighing, she admitted that this was indeed true. Before I could ask her to tell me which it was, her phone rang and she told me she had to go, he was at the gate and they had to go.
It was at that point that I decided to simply stay out of it in future; I mean really! The girl could not be helped. Starting with the new year, I would keep all my opinions to myself, and would ask her also to simply keep mention of him to me to a minimum. Discussing this resolution with an aunt of ours a few days later, she advised me to indeed keep out of it, but that rather than forbid her from mentioning her boyfriend to me, I should endeavour to keep our lines of communication open, and assure my sister that I would respect her choice henceforth. This way, she would know that I would still be there for her whatever happened, and not force her to choose between him and I.
"After all," she reasoned, " we have all made mistakes in our lives, and we survived; not only that, we were even stronger and wiser for it"
Truer words were never spoken, and this is what finally cut through my blind obsession with this issue: I too had made some spectacularly bad decisions in my life, and I was infinitely better for the experiences that followed! I just had to trust that she would be o.k. too, and that I ought to quit trying to control and manipulate her (which was the essence of my threatened ultimatum concerning mentioning her boyfriend to me). Boy, was that a severe wake up call: who would have guessed that all my efforts were aimed at trying to control her and keeping her under my thumb? I certainly couldn't. Not a sweet pill to swallow, but hey, I guess I too still have a thing or too to learn!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
You have a brother??
I recently mentioned, in casual conversation with a close friend of mine, that my brother was born 11 months after I was born.
His reaction? Disbelief: "You have a brother??"
I smiled, waiting for the punch line: from the moment we met more than 5 years ago, the Godfather has spent nearly all of our time together teasing me. We, his friends, call him the Godfather because he is usually off doing God knows what, not responding to e-mail or text; plus, he is Italian and fancies himself very wise! In reality he is is extremely naive, more than me even, and that is saying A LOT; nevertheless, very generous, and a really smart guy so a great pleasure to hang out with.
"Yeah, why not?" I reply, "I'm afraid there is someone very much like me hanging about somewhere in the world."
"No, seriously, you really have never mentioned a brother! In fact, not long ago I was reflecting on what it was like for you to be an only child!"
"An only child??" I asked, equally incredulous now.
"Yes!" he replied, "Oh, wait, what's wrong with me? Of course: you have a sister! How could I have forgotten that?"
(And two nephews thank you!)
"Why would you think I was an only child?" I asked, puzzled.
"Well, because you are so self-centred, and spoiled!" he smiled, back to his teasing.
"But seriously, tell me more about him!" he prompted after a while; and so I did.
My brother and I, as far as I can remember, were quite close growing up. Being the only boy, of course, meant that he was a little spoiled, but luckily I was perfectly secure in my first born status and didn't mind too much.
"I cannot believe that I really have never mentioned him" I said to the Godfather, "But thinking about it now, we do seem to have really drifted apart in the last few years. I think it all started when he moved out of home for the first time, at quite an early age too."
"When was this?"
When was it indeed? I could not remember! I thought for a minute.
"Well, he wasn't that young probably, maybe 25? I think I did not live at home during that period either so I cannot recall exactly," I said.
"And why would you have lost touch - didn't he visit?"
"Yeeeah, I guess, though I don't remember him visiting that much; nobody really even knew where he lived exactly!"
"What? How?!? Not even his Mother"
(Did I mention that my friend was Italian?)
"Sure!" I said, "It is quite normal for people not to know where a boy lives - it is part of letting him start his own life I guess. Of course we knew the general area but I don't recall actually going there until he had been living there for some years!"
"So what's he like then, your brother?"
"Oh, really brilliant, I have to say. And sooo funny, even funnier than me, if you can imagine that" I teased
"Oooh, believe me, that is too easy," he teased back.
"Yeah, anyway; he is also really social: he has A LOT of friends!"
"Hm. that's just like my own brother" my friend returned; but you know, having so many friends and being so funny does not always mean some one is happy, or well really" he added somberly.
"Hmmm," I mused.
"My brother is also really brilliant, and very very funny. In fact, even though he is generally a reserved person, when there is a big group of people he can really make entertain you!! Yeah... he almost becomes a clown!" he finished quietly.
"Really..." I smiled. "Hey, did you know, by the way, that very humorous people are also highly intelligent? Someone told me this recently..."
"Yeah, yeah, of course."
"Was it you?" I continued.
"No, but it is quite obvious" he remarked dryly.
"You know you are one of the least humorous people that I know actually..." I begun.
"Yeah, yeah, Vive," he countered, "But I am funnier than you so you really don't want to go there" he countered with a smile
"Whatever" I smiled back. "Well anyway, thinking about it now, I wonder why we drifted a part like this. For sure he has not been very well for some years now, your observation about having so many friends not necessarily meaning that he is happy is quite accurate."
"Hmm." he agreed. "My brother certainly was not doing well for a long time, I don't know what happens to these brilliant people but at one point, they seem to lose it. Sometime after he turned 21 he simply couldn't be bothered to do anything with himself, failed to finish his studies and basically..."
"Weird...This is more or less what happened to my brother"
Nodding his head he continued "In my brother's case, it was not until he met this girl that click, he got his act together. He will finally finish his degree next February. His friends have already been out of school and working for almost 10 years!"
"Oh my! But that is great. On the other hand, I think my brother's crisis was accelerated by a girl. They lived together for a while and he told me several times that he loved the girl to death but that the constant fighting was driving him crazy! No matter how careful he was not put a foot wrong there was always something. One day he just turned up at home and told us they had broken up!"
"Ah."
"Yeah. The way I remember it, he was so distraught that stayed at my parents' home for a few days to stabilise, and then I don't know how that story went but I think he never left again.
"Oh, and is he still there?"
"Yeap!" I replied.
My friend looked at me quizzically, "Really? Aaand how old is he?"
"34! No, 35, one year younger than me, remember?"
"NOOO!" he laughed, "Vive, 35?? What does he do?"
"He is self employed; ICT. He doesn't have a registered company or anything but he does get quite a lot of work. And from what his clients say, he does a very good job too."
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," the Godfather said.
"Yeeaah, well, there is only one problem" I added sceptically "His clients can only contact him by phone, and he is always losing it! I think it is part of his self-destructing behaviour"
The Godfather nodded thoughtfully "Self-destructive behaviour, yes. I recognise that."
I shook my head in wonder "Seriously, he has maybe lost 90 telephones, I don't know! Luckily, he gets quite well paid when he does finish a job so it keeps him for a while"
"Well paid, huh?" he said.
"Yeah, the guy make more for three days' work than I, I don't know, than I - "
"Than you make in a month?" he threw his head back and guffawed "In a YEAR? Heheehhehehe"
"Silly!" I said, kicking him under the table "No, seriously. The only problem is that as soon as he makes the money then he parties for days and days with his friends, and then suddenly has no money, and he has NO phone!!"
"Hehehehe, that's funny"
"I know. Well, not so funny but anyway, when he is on one of these drinking sprees my mother cannot sleep a wink, waiting for someone to ring her and tell her her son has been run over or been injured in a bar fight or something! As for my Dad, the whole thing frustrates him so much he doesn't know which way is up anymore. One day he is trying to be conciliatory and fatherly, the next he is pulling his beard off and screaming at my brother! Their only son and all that, it gets pretty crazy"
"Well, can't you guys say something? Help him?"
"Ah, I have to say that we have not been too successful. For my part, our communication has broken down so much that we always end up shouting at one another and storming off! It is really too bad because he has so much wasted potential"
"Yeah, I can imagine; with my brother, of course, none of us dared say anything so... It has to come from the person himself I think."
"Well, there you are. I personally do not know what to do, and I have kind of given up. My Dad and Mom try their best but sometimes I wonder if the best thing is not to just cut him lose and let him find his level, maybe something will happen that will bring him back to his senses. I don't know."
The Godfather was due to present a paper in Israel the following week, so I decided to change the subject and asked him if he was looking forward. When I got home later that day I thought back to our conversation, and the question still reverberated in my head:
"You have a brother?"
His reaction? Disbelief: "You have a brother??"
I smiled, waiting for the punch line: from the moment we met more than 5 years ago, the Godfather has spent nearly all of our time together teasing me. We, his friends, call him the Godfather because he is usually off doing God knows what, not responding to e-mail or text; plus, he is Italian and fancies himself very wise! In reality he is is extremely naive, more than me even, and that is saying A LOT; nevertheless, very generous, and a really smart guy so a great pleasure to hang out with.
"Yeah, why not?" I reply, "I'm afraid there is someone very much like me hanging about somewhere in the world."
"No, seriously, you really have never mentioned a brother! In fact, not long ago I was reflecting on what it was like for you to be an only child!"
"An only child??" I asked, equally incredulous now.
"Yes!" he replied, "Oh, wait, what's wrong with me? Of course: you have a sister! How could I have forgotten that?"
(And two nephews thank you!)
"Why would you think I was an only child?" I asked, puzzled.
"Well, because you are so self-centred, and spoiled!" he smiled, back to his teasing.
"But seriously, tell me more about him!" he prompted after a while; and so I did.
My brother and I, as far as I can remember, were quite close growing up. Being the only boy, of course, meant that he was a little spoiled, but luckily I was perfectly secure in my first born status and didn't mind too much.
"I cannot believe that I really have never mentioned him" I said to the Godfather, "But thinking about it now, we do seem to have really drifted apart in the last few years. I think it all started when he moved out of home for the first time, at quite an early age too."
"When was this?"
When was it indeed? I could not remember! I thought for a minute.
"Well, he wasn't that young probably, maybe 25? I think I did not live at home during that period either so I cannot recall exactly," I said.
"And why would you have lost touch - didn't he visit?"
"Yeeeah, I guess, though I don't remember him visiting that much; nobody really even knew where he lived exactly!"
"What? How?!? Not even his Mother"
(Did I mention that my friend was Italian?)
"Sure!" I said, "It is quite normal for people not to know where a boy lives - it is part of letting him start his own life I guess. Of course we knew the general area but I don't recall actually going there until he had been living there for some years!"
"So what's he like then, your brother?"
"Oh, really brilliant, I have to say. And sooo funny, even funnier than me, if you can imagine that" I teased
"Oooh, believe me, that is too easy," he teased back.
"Yeah, anyway; he is also really social: he has A LOT of friends!"
"Hm. that's just like my own brother" my friend returned; but you know, having so many friends and being so funny does not always mean some one is happy, or well really" he added somberly.
"Hmmm," I mused.
"My brother is also really brilliant, and very very funny. In fact, even though he is generally a reserved person, when there is a big group of people he can really make entertain you!! Yeah... he almost becomes a clown!" he finished quietly.
"Really..." I smiled. "Hey, did you know, by the way, that very humorous people are also highly intelligent? Someone told me this recently..."
"Yeah, yeah, of course."
"Was it you?" I continued.
"No, but it is quite obvious" he remarked dryly.
"You know you are one of the least humorous people that I know actually..." I begun.
"Yeah, yeah, Vive," he countered, "But I am funnier than you so you really don't want to go there" he countered with a smile
"Whatever" I smiled back. "Well anyway, thinking about it now, I wonder why we drifted a part like this. For sure he has not been very well for some years now, your observation about having so many friends not necessarily meaning that he is happy is quite accurate."
"Hmm." he agreed. "My brother certainly was not doing well for a long time, I don't know what happens to these brilliant people but at one point, they seem to lose it. Sometime after he turned 21 he simply couldn't be bothered to do anything with himself, failed to finish his studies and basically..."
"Weird...This is more or less what happened to my brother"
Nodding his head he continued "In my brother's case, it was not until he met this girl that click, he got his act together. He will finally finish his degree next February. His friends have already been out of school and working for almost 10 years!"
"Oh my! But that is great. On the other hand, I think my brother's crisis was accelerated by a girl. They lived together for a while and he told me several times that he loved the girl to death but that the constant fighting was driving him crazy! No matter how careful he was not put a foot wrong there was always something. One day he just turned up at home and told us they had broken up!"
"Ah."
"Yeah. The way I remember it, he was so distraught that stayed at my parents' home for a few days to stabilise, and then I don't know how that story went but I think he never left again.
"Oh, and is he still there?"
"Yeap!" I replied.
My friend looked at me quizzically, "Really? Aaand how old is he?"
"34! No, 35, one year younger than me, remember?"
"NOOO!" he laughed, "Vive, 35?? What does he do?"
"He is self employed; ICT. He doesn't have a registered company or anything but he does get quite a lot of work. And from what his clients say, he does a very good job too."
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," the Godfather said.
"Yeeaah, well, there is only one problem" I added sceptically "His clients can only contact him by phone, and he is always losing it! I think it is part of his self-destructing behaviour"
The Godfather nodded thoughtfully "Self-destructive behaviour, yes. I recognise that."
I shook my head in wonder "Seriously, he has maybe lost 90 telephones, I don't know! Luckily, he gets quite well paid when he does finish a job so it keeps him for a while"
"Well paid, huh?" he said.
"Yeah, the guy make more for three days' work than I, I don't know, than I - "
"Than you make in a month?" he threw his head back and guffawed "In a YEAR? Heheehhehehe"
"Silly!" I said, kicking him under the table "No, seriously. The only problem is that as soon as he makes the money then he parties for days and days with his friends, and then suddenly has no money, and he has NO phone!!"
"Hehehehe, that's funny"
"I know. Well, not so funny but anyway, when he is on one of these drinking sprees my mother cannot sleep a wink, waiting for someone to ring her and tell her her son has been run over or been injured in a bar fight or something! As for my Dad, the whole thing frustrates him so much he doesn't know which way is up anymore. One day he is trying to be conciliatory and fatherly, the next he is pulling his beard off and screaming at my brother! Their only son and all that, it gets pretty crazy"
"Well, can't you guys say something? Help him?"
"Ah, I have to say that we have not been too successful. For my part, our communication has broken down so much that we always end up shouting at one another and storming off! It is really too bad because he has so much wasted potential"
"Yeah, I can imagine; with my brother, of course, none of us dared say anything so... It has to come from the person himself I think."
"Well, there you are. I personally do not know what to do, and I have kind of given up. My Dad and Mom try their best but sometimes I wonder if the best thing is not to just cut him lose and let him find his level, maybe something will happen that will bring him back to his senses. I don't know."
The Godfather was due to present a paper in Israel the following week, so I decided to change the subject and asked him if he was looking forward. When I got home later that day I thought back to our conversation, and the question still reverberated in my head:
"You have a brother?"
Sunday, July 04, 2010
A Bowl of Spinach
I find the weekends that I spend away from the city, and in the little village where I live and work, very relaxing indeed. I have no want of electricity, flowing water, internet, and even World Cup action, which I can catch on an ancient and fuzzy television at the staff pub. Not to mention fresh produce, cheap fruit and more fresh air than anyone can use! The best part of these weekends is the opportunity to try out new recipes, but even better, to dust off old endlessly modified favourites, and this weekend was no exception. On Friday afternoon I bumped into a villager selling fresh spinach and I wasted no time buying myself a bunch, thus setting myself up on a date with some creamy spinach for lunch on Saturday.
Midway through my lazy Saturday, I get up from watching the final season of 'Ugly Betty' (riveting stuff!) and quickly dice the spinach, wash it and stuff it into my biggest saucepan (which is not all that big to begin with). I have some left over rice in the fridge and figure this will go well enough with the spinach and cut cooking time. I cut up some onions and tomatoes and add them to the spinach. In deference to my housemate, I desist from the garlic; she is not even home this weekend but that girl can smell garlic on you one week after you eat it; and since I have been eating liberal amounts of the stuff for a whole week, and given her gracious suffering through the ordeal, I am prompted to go easy on the garlic for a little while.
I grind some black pepper and rock salt over the spinach, and finish with a sprinkling of mixed herbs and a drizzle of olive oil. I plonk the pan on my one burner gas stove, turn down the flame and return to the Ugly Betty. One episode later I return to put the finishing (and essential) touches to the spinach - it usually tastes pretty good without these but I am in the mood to treat myself: out come the cream (a modest dollop mind you) and 'Royco' - a wonderful invention if you ask me: it is a soup thickening agent made up of God-knows-what, and probably a healthy dose of that salty stuff you find in Soy Sauce what's-its'-name. Once things are bubbling away again, I take one of my airtight freezer food-keeping-containers (what are those things called?) and fill it up with some of the spinach, leaving just enough for my lunch. I take the cold rice and, wanting to minimise dirty saucepans, plop it into the spinach that is still simmering on the stove - I know - I am losing the gastronomical plot here but hey - it will all end up in my stomach anyway. The rice proves to be too voluminous for the spinach left in the saucepan so I reach for the one in the food-keeping-container so that I can add some more to the pan but suddenly the stupid container begins to slip out of my hand and a frantic heart-stopping second later the container is face down on the floor!
With a gut wrenching 'NOOOOOO!!!' I dive to save some of the spinach by turning over the container and feverishly picking off the leaves on top and back into the container. 'No, no, no...' I whimper. I subconsciously wonder when my floor was last swept' but block out the answer and step up my efforts by scooping the creamy sauce off the floor with both hands thinking the spinach was hot when it poured so it must have sanitised the floor - ouch, ouch - hot, hot. When I can scoop no more sauce off the floor, I turn to the walls but stop myself in mid-reach; only then does the smell of burning penetrate my awareness. I pick the container of rescued spinach off the floor and spin towards the stove, knock off the cover with my bare hands and pour some more spinach into the rice, vigorously scraping the sides and bottom of the pan to dislodge the sticking rice. I cover the pan and turn back to the carnage to survey the damage.
Spinach is clinging to the wall and to the curtain hanging over the door that leads out of the kitchen into the backyard. There are smears of sauce on the door itself, and splotches of sauce and spinach on my trouser bottoms and on my leather sandals. I hold up my hands and seeing the layer of sauce on them, briefly consider flicking my fingers dry into the rescued sauce but abandon the idea. I take myself to the sink and wash my hands, then take a kitchen cloth and wipe down the wall and door, all the while inwardly mourning my creamed spinach - that stuff is seriously delicious.
I take my warmed rice & spinach mixture (or gunk, if I am honest) off the stove and pile it, steaming, into my soup bowl, and kicking off my soiled sandals climb back up on my bed and resume watching 'Ugly Betty'. I take a moment to reflect over what I would normally consider mad, unhygienic behaviour and feel not the least bit of concern - if you had ever tasted that spinach, or if you could have smelled it as it cooked, you would have done the same.
So: I watch my show, and sure I occasionally bite on some grit, but I still enjoy my spinach very much :-)
Midway through my lazy Saturday, I get up from watching the final season of 'Ugly Betty' (riveting stuff!) and quickly dice the spinach, wash it and stuff it into my biggest saucepan (which is not all that big to begin with). I have some left over rice in the fridge and figure this will go well enough with the spinach and cut cooking time. I cut up some onions and tomatoes and add them to the spinach. In deference to my housemate, I desist from the garlic; she is not even home this weekend but that girl can smell garlic on you one week after you eat it; and since I have been eating liberal amounts of the stuff for a whole week, and given her gracious suffering through the ordeal, I am prompted to go easy on the garlic for a little while.
I grind some black pepper and rock salt over the spinach, and finish with a sprinkling of mixed herbs and a drizzle of olive oil. I plonk the pan on my one burner gas stove, turn down the flame and return to the Ugly Betty. One episode later I return to put the finishing (and essential) touches to the spinach - it usually tastes pretty good without these but I am in the mood to treat myself: out come the cream (a modest dollop mind you) and 'Royco' - a wonderful invention if you ask me: it is a soup thickening agent made up of God-knows-what, and probably a healthy dose of that salty stuff you find in Soy Sauce what's-its'-name. Once things are bubbling away again, I take one of my airtight freezer food-keeping-containers (what are those things called?) and fill it up with some of the spinach, leaving just enough for my lunch. I take the cold rice and, wanting to minimise dirty saucepans, plop it into the spinach that is still simmering on the stove - I know - I am losing the gastronomical plot here but hey - it will all end up in my stomach anyway. The rice proves to be too voluminous for the spinach left in the saucepan so I reach for the one in the food-keeping-container so that I can add some more to the pan but suddenly the stupid container begins to slip out of my hand and a frantic heart-stopping second later the container is face down on the floor!
With a gut wrenching 'NOOOOOO!!!' I dive to save some of the spinach by turning over the container and feverishly picking off the leaves on top and back into the container. 'No, no, no...' I whimper. I subconsciously wonder when my floor was last swept' but block out the answer and step up my efforts by scooping the creamy sauce off the floor with both hands thinking the spinach was hot when it poured so it must have sanitised the floor - ouch, ouch - hot, hot. When I can scoop no more sauce off the floor, I turn to the walls but stop myself in mid-reach; only then does the smell of burning penetrate my awareness. I pick the container of rescued spinach off the floor and spin towards the stove, knock off the cover with my bare hands and pour some more spinach into the rice, vigorously scraping the sides and bottom of the pan to dislodge the sticking rice. I cover the pan and turn back to the carnage to survey the damage.
Spinach is clinging to the wall and to the curtain hanging over the door that leads out of the kitchen into the backyard. There are smears of sauce on the door itself, and splotches of sauce and spinach on my trouser bottoms and on my leather sandals. I hold up my hands and seeing the layer of sauce on them, briefly consider flicking my fingers dry into the rescued sauce but abandon the idea. I take myself to the sink and wash my hands, then take a kitchen cloth and wipe down the wall and door, all the while inwardly mourning my creamed spinach - that stuff is seriously delicious.
I take my warmed rice & spinach mixture (or gunk, if I am honest) off the stove and pile it, steaming, into my soup bowl, and kicking off my soiled sandals climb back up on my bed and resume watching 'Ugly Betty'. I take a moment to reflect over what I would normally consider mad, unhygienic behaviour and feel not the least bit of concern - if you had ever tasted that spinach, or if you could have smelled it as it cooked, you would have done the same.
So: I watch my show, and sure I occasionally bite on some grit, but I still enjoy my spinach very much :-)
Friday, June 18, 2010
I say NO, he hears maybe, or even YES! :-/
I walk out of the cinema on a balmy Sunday evening with a girl friend and as soon as I switch on the phone it starts to ring. My relaxed mood evaporates immediately as I see who it is: I am reminded of my resolution to put an end to this nonsense once and for all by the end of the day. I ignore the call and it goes to voicemail. We resume our dissection of the the newest Sex and the City Movie (II), and agree that although parts of it were over the top, it was watchable on the whole. For once I also saw why the fashion is so much a part of the SATC experience - I simply loved the outfits; and as for the furniture!!
Anyway, my friend and I had earlier agreed to swing by a trendy bar that had been open for sometime on the roof top of the building complex; as an architect, she was keen to check it out. It is fantastically expensive but we figure think we can manage a drink of water at the very least. I do not know what it looks like during the day but in the cool night air, I am struck again by the beautiful and warm decor, perfectly accessorised by the beautiful people sitting within its inviting interior. Cutting through the bar one can access the outdoor area, which is laid out with high tables and bar stools nearest the exit from the bar, and further out along the edges, lower seating with large cushions and intimate lighting. My friend is oooh-ing and ahhhh-ing as we head to the low seating; we take a minute to we gaze can see the night sky and parts of the city laid out before us through the glass atop the half wall that runs along the boundary.
After we order our drinks, I decide to check my voicemail to listen to what my latest suitor has to say. He is complaining (as usual) about finding my phone switched off. Irritation wells up within me as I remember that the day before i had told him that I would go to the 7 O'clock movie and naturally my phone would be off. I remember his only response as quipping:
"Well, I am not movie [sic] person so you are on your own," as if I was inviting him along!
The problems that I have with this one are countless. We had met at a cafe not long before, and one coffee date (where two of his friends were present for half it) and some phone calls later, I would not say that he was ringing my bell. Time had come to cut those ties. First I thought I would just make myself scarce and unavailable, but then he'd bombarded me with even more phone calls and kept trying to fit in with whatever I was doing, even driving miles out of his way to give me rides to places. I had finally decided that time had come for me to set him straight on his prospects, but so far I hadn't found quite the words. The original plan was to do it over the telephone but out of some stupid sense of fairness, now I thought I ought to tell him face to face.
You might ask yourself why I felt I had to show such consideration, and how I found myself in this mess in the first place?
Well, this is a result of a new resolution to be more open to guys that I would not normally give the time of day; this in efforts to widen my dating pool and give a chance to those people who once I got to know may be quite worth knowing after all. The game plan is to go on at least three dates - a la 'The Surrendered Single', and having given him a fair chance, decide whether or not I wanted to accept more dates. Unfortunately, although this new attitude had gotten me more dates, they have not exactly been quality dates. I could go so far as to say I attract the most unstable and clingy men imaginable; so much so that I can hardly ever last beyond the first date. These are men, who within hours of our first date (or even during), are usually swearing undying love, and are proposing marriage within the week! And the worst thing is that these are men that I would indeed not give the time of day so to give them my number, I have had to brush aside some serious reservations. After three such men, I am sincerely beginning to ask myself if I shouldn't just go back to my old ways - this hustle simply isn't worth it!
My phone rings and it is him again.
"Where are you?" he snaps - apparently angry I guess.
Holding down my irritation I reply "We are up on the roof top"
"What are you doing up there? I am in the parking lot"
"My friend and I are checking out the new bar up here. Do you want to come up?"
He hesitates for a moment and then snaps "O.k." Gosh.
I had told him the day before that I could not see him today because I had a movie date and he had said he would come by just for five minutes. My attempts to dissuade him had been fruitless so here he was (which begs the question: why he is asking me what I am doing up here?) Later I thought that it was all very well giving him his five minutes, the sooner I got this over with the better; so instead of staying out with my friend, we had agreed to part after he arrived and I could take those five minutes to let him know it was not working out.
My friend and I sip our drinks and take in our surroundings; she is still exclaiming with pleasure and I glad I brought her. We try to talk about this and the other, the movie - nothing! Knowing he was coming up to the top of the building I cannot concentrate. Finally my friend asks:
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
"Oh," I exclaim " would you? I think I will need some back up after all!"
I wondered what exactly he had in mind. His tone over the phone implies that he thought we had a date or something, and yet I told him I could only see him for five minutes. Which is another of his problems - the man simply does not listen to anything I say! My phone rings again, and before I can speak he asks:
"Where are you? Am I in the right bar?" Irritation.
"We are outside" I respond calmly.
"Outside? Why are you outside? Who sits outside?"
I am struck temporarily dumb. I stutter
"What? We - "
"Outside where?" he cuts in.
"Just walk through the bar - we are sitting directly opposite the door to the bar"
I look up as I say this and see him walking rapidly towards us: he comes to a stop next to our table and I introduce my friend. He shakes her hand and quickly says
"Come inside - it is nicer, and you can watch soccer"
"We are not interested in soccer" I retort "go and sit there if you like - I will be with you shortly" To hell with this!
All this time he is maintaining a strange stance - chest out, arms away from his sides, widening all over the place; I am beyond dismayed by his rude beahviour. When he has left I turn to my friend with my mouth open; she is shaking her head:
"Missy, what was that all about?"
"The rudeness!" I reply slowly, amazed.
I slump back in my seat:"I really have to get this over and done with" I think. My friend and I chat on for a while, we agree that I need to get over there and shut this down, but both of us a little afraid of the aggressiveness he has just shown. We decide to return to our original plan - I will go over and talk to him for a few minutes, then return to our date, otherwise if my friend leaves I might never be able to get rid of him (Yeah, I know, I am totally spineless about these things!) The other thing I forgot to mention is that this guy has a military background so I was probably better off not being left alone with him.
I spot him sitting by himself when I go into the bar, eyes trained on the T.V. screen. I walk up and take the stool next to him.
With one eye still on the screen he half-turns to me and says "Are you through?"
"Through with what?" I ask
"Your friend."
"What do you mean? Yesterday you said you only wanted to see me for five minutes so here I am"
"What? Why don't you finish with her and then come back"
"Because I have to take her home" I lie.
"Oh really?" He turns fully " So - I can't see you tonight?"
"But that is exactly what I told you yesterday"
"No goodnight kiss for me then?"
(I'm thinking huh?? He had been nattering on about his good night kiss since after the first date )
"Er, about that..." I say hesitantly, unsure how to proceed "uhm, that is not going to happen I'm afraid"
Puzzled he tilts his head to the side "why not?"
"We-e-ll, for a start, we have hardly been on a date, and -"
"But that is your fault - you are always too busy to see me"
"Well, that is another thing - this is simply not the time for me to start a relationship. I am getting ready to leave the country for a good length of time and this is not something that I can sustain" (taking the wuss's way out)
"Leaving the country? When?"
"Soon."
"But what has that got to do with anything?"
I abandon the wuss-ness, and decide to be truthful "Well, actually not a lot - even if I was not leaving I have known for some time that this was not working"
"What?" He hisses. He grabs my hand "Let's go outside and talk about this."
I wrench my arm away and through gritted teeth say "there is point. And anyway I have to get back to my friend". I soften "You can call me later and talk some more about it if you want. Gotta go now though." I hurry away.
"Wait," he says getting off his stool, "I will walk you both to your car then" I groan inwardly - I had not expected this - actually my friend's car is also in the parking lot so we would now have to go through the charade of getting into mine, and pretend to drive away. I just hoped he did not decide to drive out behind us.
"O.K." I say weakly.
As we walk down to the parking lot, he continues to pointedly ignore my friend, and says hardly anything to me. My friend and I chat uncomfortably until we arrive at my car.
"Right. So talk to you later?" I ask.
"Yeah, I will call you later."
My friend and I hope into my car and drive around in a circle, stop at some supermarket, get some stuff and then I drive her round to her parked car. The man for his part screeches out of the parking lot and heads in the direction of his home.
Later he calls and says that he is really speechless after what I told him; he likes me so much, he does not understand, etc., I tell him we are just not suited and it's best he forgot about me. He pleads with me to meet with him one more time, the following day, for coffee, and I am just so worn out with his begging that I agree.
The next day, I have to fit him into my busy Monday morning schedule and as I expected, our conversation accomplishes nothing beyond wasting my time and strengthening my resolve. I tell him to simply move on, he says o.k, he cannot force me to date him but can we at least be friends? I tell him that never works in my experience, he pleads with me to let him at least call me sometimes (God, the pleading just kills me) I am so exhausted by all this I say fine, whatever; only don't call ten times a day as you have been doing. We wrap that up and he rings me the minute he is back in the office (sigh...) to say again how much he likes me, I tell him he cannot be telling me he likes me if we are just going to be friends and what had we said about the frequent calls? He says oh, sorry - right. Talk to you later then. Exasperation.
To cut that long story short, he calls twice more that day, I pick his first call and ignore the second. Next day he calls and says he's had a great idea: how about before I left the country he took me to his home village to meet his Grandmother (who brought him up mind you) - I give up! Now I ignore all calls and text - maybe that way he will hear the NO more clearly!
I don't know that I will so willingly give my number to the next man that asks for it because this simply too exhausting!
Anyway, my friend and I had earlier agreed to swing by a trendy bar that had been open for sometime on the roof top of the building complex; as an architect, she was keen to check it out. It is fantastically expensive but we figure think we can manage a drink of water at the very least. I do not know what it looks like during the day but in the cool night air, I am struck again by the beautiful and warm decor, perfectly accessorised by the beautiful people sitting within its inviting interior. Cutting through the bar one can access the outdoor area, which is laid out with high tables and bar stools nearest the exit from the bar, and further out along the edges, lower seating with large cushions and intimate lighting. My friend is oooh-ing and ahhhh-ing as we head to the low seating; we take a minute to we gaze can see the night sky and parts of the city laid out before us through the glass atop the half wall that runs along the boundary.
After we order our drinks, I decide to check my voicemail to listen to what my latest suitor has to say. He is complaining (as usual) about finding my phone switched off. Irritation wells up within me as I remember that the day before i had told him that I would go to the 7 O'clock movie and naturally my phone would be off. I remember his only response as quipping:
"Well, I am not movie [sic] person so you are on your own," as if I was inviting him along!
The problems that I have with this one are countless. We had met at a cafe not long before, and one coffee date (where two of his friends were present for half it) and some phone calls later, I would not say that he was ringing my bell. Time had come to cut those ties. First I thought I would just make myself scarce and unavailable, but then he'd bombarded me with even more phone calls and kept trying to fit in with whatever I was doing, even driving miles out of his way to give me rides to places. I had finally decided that time had come for me to set him straight on his prospects, but so far I hadn't found quite the words. The original plan was to do it over the telephone but out of some stupid sense of fairness, now I thought I ought to tell him face to face.
You might ask yourself why I felt I had to show such consideration, and how I found myself in this mess in the first place?
Well, this is a result of a new resolution to be more open to guys that I would not normally give the time of day; this in efforts to widen my dating pool and give a chance to those people who once I got to know may be quite worth knowing after all. The game plan is to go on at least three dates - a la 'The Surrendered Single', and having given him a fair chance, decide whether or not I wanted to accept more dates. Unfortunately, although this new attitude had gotten me more dates, they have not exactly been quality dates. I could go so far as to say I attract the most unstable and clingy men imaginable; so much so that I can hardly ever last beyond the first date. These are men, who within hours of our first date (or even during), are usually swearing undying love, and are proposing marriage within the week! And the worst thing is that these are men that I would indeed not give the time of day so to give them my number, I have had to brush aside some serious reservations. After three such men, I am sincerely beginning to ask myself if I shouldn't just go back to my old ways - this hustle simply isn't worth it!
My phone rings and it is him again.
"Where are you?" he snaps - apparently angry I guess.
Holding down my irritation I reply "We are up on the roof top"
"What are you doing up there? I am in the parking lot"
"My friend and I are checking out the new bar up here. Do you want to come up?"
He hesitates for a moment and then snaps "O.k." Gosh.
I had told him the day before that I could not see him today because I had a movie date and he had said he would come by just for five minutes. My attempts to dissuade him had been fruitless so here he was (which begs the question: why he is asking me what I am doing up here?) Later I thought that it was all very well giving him his five minutes, the sooner I got this over with the better; so instead of staying out with my friend, we had agreed to part after he arrived and I could take those five minutes to let him know it was not working out.
My friend and I sip our drinks and take in our surroundings; she is still exclaiming with pleasure and I glad I brought her. We try to talk about this and the other, the movie - nothing! Knowing he was coming up to the top of the building I cannot concentrate. Finally my friend asks:
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
"Oh," I exclaim " would you? I think I will need some back up after all!"
I wondered what exactly he had in mind. His tone over the phone implies that he thought we had a date or something, and yet I told him I could only see him for five minutes. Which is another of his problems - the man simply does not listen to anything I say! My phone rings again, and before I can speak he asks:
"Where are you? Am I in the right bar?" Irritation.
"We are outside" I respond calmly.
"Outside? Why are you outside? Who sits outside?"
I am struck temporarily dumb. I stutter
"What? We - "
"Outside where?" he cuts in.
"Just walk through the bar - we are sitting directly opposite the door to the bar"
I look up as I say this and see him walking rapidly towards us: he comes to a stop next to our table and I introduce my friend. He shakes her hand and quickly says
"Come inside - it is nicer, and you can watch soccer"
"We are not interested in soccer" I retort "go and sit there if you like - I will be with you shortly" To hell with this!
All this time he is maintaining a strange stance - chest out, arms away from his sides, widening all over the place; I am beyond dismayed by his rude beahviour. When he has left I turn to my friend with my mouth open; she is shaking her head:
"Missy, what was that all about?"
"The rudeness!" I reply slowly, amazed.
I slump back in my seat:"I really have to get this over and done with" I think. My friend and I chat on for a while, we agree that I need to get over there and shut this down, but both of us a little afraid of the aggressiveness he has just shown. We decide to return to our original plan - I will go over and talk to him for a few minutes, then return to our date, otherwise if my friend leaves I might never be able to get rid of him (Yeah, I know, I am totally spineless about these things!) The other thing I forgot to mention is that this guy has a military background so I was probably better off not being left alone with him.
I spot him sitting by himself when I go into the bar, eyes trained on the T.V. screen. I walk up and take the stool next to him.
With one eye still on the screen he half-turns to me and says "Are you through?"
"Through with what?" I ask
"Your friend."
"What do you mean? Yesterday you said you only wanted to see me for five minutes so here I am"
"What? Why don't you finish with her and then come back"
"Because I have to take her home" I lie.
"Oh really?" He turns fully " So - I can't see you tonight?"
"But that is exactly what I told you yesterday"
"No goodnight kiss for me then?"
(I'm thinking huh?? He had been nattering on about his good night kiss since after the first date )
"Er, about that..." I say hesitantly, unsure how to proceed "uhm, that is not going to happen I'm afraid"
Puzzled he tilts his head to the side "why not?"
"We-e-ll, for a start, we have hardly been on a date, and -"
"But that is your fault - you are always too busy to see me"
"Well, that is another thing - this is simply not the time for me to start a relationship. I am getting ready to leave the country for a good length of time and this is not something that I can sustain" (taking the wuss's way out)
"Leaving the country? When?"
"Soon."
"But what has that got to do with anything?"
I abandon the wuss-ness, and decide to be truthful "Well, actually not a lot - even if I was not leaving I have known for some time that this was not working"
"What?" He hisses. He grabs my hand "Let's go outside and talk about this."
I wrench my arm away and through gritted teeth say "there is point. And anyway I have to get back to my friend". I soften "You can call me later and talk some more about it if you want. Gotta go now though." I hurry away.
"Wait," he says getting off his stool, "I will walk you both to your car then" I groan inwardly - I had not expected this - actually my friend's car is also in the parking lot so we would now have to go through the charade of getting into mine, and pretend to drive away. I just hoped he did not decide to drive out behind us.
"O.K." I say weakly.
As we walk down to the parking lot, he continues to pointedly ignore my friend, and says hardly anything to me. My friend and I chat uncomfortably until we arrive at my car.
"Right. So talk to you later?" I ask.
"Yeah, I will call you later."
My friend and I hope into my car and drive around in a circle, stop at some supermarket, get some stuff and then I drive her round to her parked car. The man for his part screeches out of the parking lot and heads in the direction of his home.
Later he calls and says that he is really speechless after what I told him; he likes me so much, he does not understand, etc., I tell him we are just not suited and it's best he forgot about me. He pleads with me to meet with him one more time, the following day, for coffee, and I am just so worn out with his begging that I agree.
The next day, I have to fit him into my busy Monday morning schedule and as I expected, our conversation accomplishes nothing beyond wasting my time and strengthening my resolve. I tell him to simply move on, he says o.k, he cannot force me to date him but can we at least be friends? I tell him that never works in my experience, he pleads with me to let him at least call me sometimes (God, the pleading just kills me) I am so exhausted by all this I say fine, whatever; only don't call ten times a day as you have been doing. We wrap that up and he rings me the minute he is back in the office (sigh...) to say again how much he likes me, I tell him he cannot be telling me he likes me if we are just going to be friends and what had we said about the frequent calls? He says oh, sorry - right. Talk to you later then. Exasperation.
To cut that long story short, he calls twice more that day, I pick his first call and ignore the second. Next day he calls and says he's had a great idea: how about before I left the country he took me to his home village to meet his Grandmother (who brought him up mind you) - I give up! Now I ignore all calls and text - maybe that way he will hear the NO more clearly!
I don't know that I will so willingly give my number to the next man that asks for it because this simply too exhausting!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
On starting over...
There is this young woman - 30 years old, been in a relationship with a guy for five years and they have a two year old together (he has two other children from previous relationships and she has one from a previous relationship too). Friday night, we are out for drinks and as usual she is in tears over the fact that he will not make their union official - or rather that he keeps putting the ceremony off - this despite repeated cajoling by the girl, her Mom, her Dad, her brother, her friends, name them! Present was a young married couple and the husband said that in his opinion, this was exactly the wrong way to go about getting her boyfriend to commit. Her response to that was that he should leave if things were not to his liking, and that she had done everything in her power, including 'giving' him a daughter to prove her loyalty, but that all that did not seem to be enough.
This married couple is also friends with the boy and they had talked to him about this issue not long ago; apparently he too had complaints about the relationship that were a mile long, and said that unless the girl could address these issues then he could not see how he could make their relationship official. Chief among these complaints was her family and their interfering of course, but he also pointed to a number of incidents where she had flat out deceived him, or left him out to dry in dealings with her family instead of supporting him. When asked why he did not just leave, he hesitated to say; later however he said that he did not want to look like a man who moved from woman to woman, having children all over town, but that if some external forces could get him out of this relationship he would be out of there in a flash!
My own take on the whole situation is that of course the girl should take control of the situation and leave the guy - waiting for the man to leave is a waste of her time and energy! Looking back at my own life, I have found myself in some relationships which, although they appeared to have a lot of good things going for them at the time, were wrong for me on some fundamental level. In the beginning of these relationships I often had my eyes trained on the positives, deciding that no relationship was perfect, but with time I would have to face the fact that there were things that I really could never live with. Then followed a period of discussing these flaws with my partner and expressing my inability to live with them in the hope that he would make the decision to break up (so I could blame him and hate him I suppose); this period could last anywhere from a few months to a couple of years (!). Eventually though, I have had to make the decision to quit discussing the situation and just leave (and leave for good)!
I have recently had to make a similar decision. This is with a man who is perfect in so many ways, but who is simply at a different place from me; plus, we don't live in the same country and he told me early on that he was not capable of being in a long distance relationship. Since we were compatible in so many other ways however, (he recognised and verbalised this often), I thought the long distance thing was not such a big issue and raged against it for at least two more years! With time though, I finally had to face the fact that he was simply not at a point in his life where he could make a long term commitment, and that I should accept that fact without taking it as a rejection of me as a person. For his part, he often told me that he really wished things were different, but ultimately he stuck to his guns and did what was best for him – including persuading me to continue taking his (infrequent) calls and being friends in general. I on the other hand viewed these calls as more opportunities to show him how special what we had was, and what a mistake he was making in not grabbing it, and so on, and so forth! Looking back now I feel really stupid but there you are – this foolishness happens to the best of us!
ANYHOW! After years of trying to persuade him to make a decision, in June this year I decided to make the decision for myself - not discuss it with him, not get his approval, nothing - just do it! I have had to struggle with feelings of rejection of course (and wasted effort etc.), but it has been a couple of months now and I have come to terms with the reality that we may never be together (I should say 'we will never be together' but I guess I am not that over him! :-)); but guess what? He has not come running after me or anything - if anything, he does not even seem to have noticed my recent non-responsiveness - more proof that I made the right decision!
But back to this girl and her woes: The young husband and I discussed it at length, and came to the conclusion that her main fear was that of starting over. His own experience of the fear of starting over (or of getting over that fear anyhow) was related to starting over in business, which he has had to do a couple of times in the past few years! A bystander would think he was CRAZY to do some of the things he has done; most recently he decided to leave behind a partnership that he had built up and that had really good prospects, but that he had to leave because he and his partner simply did not see eye-to-eye anymore; one day he just picked up his computer and walked out the door! He did not try to get bought out or try to take the equipment he had purchased or anything - the way he looked at it, he had started out with his computer, and he could do it again - pursuing his own vision was more than worth it (and boy has that decision paid off by the way!).
For myself, letting go of this latest relationship required me to really look to myself and dredge up the confidence to start over - I will be 35 in about a month's time and I am completely single. However, being beautiful, fit, intelligent, and having some truly good friends, I know that there are plenty of opportunities for me to meet someone new if I will only open myself to them. Best of all, I took control of my life and made a decision for my own happiness, and I can really be proud of that!
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
My woes with Matatu Drivers
The typical Matatu driver is rude, obnoxious and will always try to hit on you if you so much as look at him sideways! (Matatu is the local term for the 14-carrier public transport minibus). My woes with these guys are a mile long, but recently I met one who took the cake!!
I like to take the front seat because it has the best leg room, and on this occasion the seat between me and the driver was not occupied and since I was going home pretty late, there were just two other passengers in the rest of the Matatu. Now usually, when these guys see that that there are too few passengers, they try to pawn them off to another Matatu that is going the same way, so that they can turn around and go get more passengers. The problem is, the new Matatu driver is even less invested and chances of being abandoned become even greater!
Anyway, true to form, this Matatu driver was trying to pawn us off and in desperation I decided to use my womanly wiles to persuade him to take us up to our agreed destination. So I start off by asking him what his name is (Daniels something or other), and ask him as sweetly as I can to please take us all the way and not leave us stranded in the middle of no where. After some back and forth, with the other passengers chipping in, he grudgingly relents, claiming that if I wasn't so young and beautiful he would not have agreed. I sit back, well satisfied with my efforts. Daniels however, not one to waste opportunity, immediately launches into some spiel about what a big favour he is doing me and how he will have to produce a signed statement to his wife concerning his whereabouts and why he is getting home so late, and how about I make it worth his while and give him my number.
I smile at him in the dark and go: "But you are married - what use will my phone number be?"
"Eh, don't worry - I know how to handle these things..."
"Well how do you know I am not married myself?"
"Oh, if you are married, that is even better! I like married women."
I shake my head: " No, I'm sorry, I never have anything to do with married men"
"Eee?" he complains, "you also reconsider" as he reaches across the seat separating us and pinches (!) my thigh!!
"Hey! Don't do that!" I exclaim..
He smiles to himself and withdraws his hand and drapes his arm across the seat next to me..
"So," he goes on "are you really married? I was thinking that I could take you all the way to your door step if you like"
I squeeze into my seat and move nearer the door, and reply as frostily as I can manage: "Thank you but no thanks - I already asked some one to pick me up from the bus stop" I lie.
"Who? Your husband?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact"
"Eeeh, why disturb him now?? You can even give him my number and ask him to call me - I think I can take him on."
I look over at the man and wonder what the hell he is going on about. "No, that won't be necessary - he doesn't mind picking me up" I continue trying to squeeze up against the door, and when he sees me doing this he reaches across me and says "hey - careful - the door is not locked!"; he locks the door and taps thigh nearest the door as he brings his hand back to the wheel.
"Stop that!" I snarl. He throws his head back and laughs: "Come on, we're just having a bit of harmless fun"
I snatch my bag off the seat between us and lay it across my lap, and proceed to sit there fuming. Honestly. These guys think that a little flirting gives them the license to basically molest you! I wonder if I should just get out of the Matatu but the road looks quite deserted, and I can't be sure that I will get another Matatu at this time of night. The other passengers chatter on, no clue what is going on. I turn around and engage the other passengers in some banal chatter, and ignore Daniels though he keeps trying to interrupt our conversation. He even turns up the music and dedicates some song that's playing (and that I have never heard) to me.
Eventually, we reach our destination. Quick as lightening, before I can open the door Daniels reaches across me to unlock the door and I immediately press into my seat and hope he does not try anything else. Sure enough though, as one hand unlocks the door the other hand snakes towards my crotch (!) and when I push it away roughly he growls in my ear "come on, at least let me just touch your hootchie, you've already refused to give me your number!"
I practically fall out of that Matatu as I shout: "I TOLD YOU TO STOP THAT!!"
The nerve!!
Anyway, I have to say that I met ONE nice driver once, and was so impressed with his gentlemanly behaviour that I have never forgotten it. In fact, I had decided to give Matatu Drivers the benefit of the doubt since then, but Daniels had to go and spoil it for them again! But about this other driver. I was on this Matatu headed out of town, in my usual spot by the driver, and was totally surprised by the courtesy with which he treated me. The main reason I was so impressed by this other driver was that even though he had every opportunity to keep brushing his fingers against my thigh as he moved the gear shift, he was veeery careful not to. Other drivers get their thrills by spreading their fingers out and moving the shift in such a way that that can feel you up... I am always totally baffled by that - I mean what can they possibly benefit from that?? These kinds of drivers will also usually slump in their seats and spread their legs so that their arm and thigh are in full contact with yours - this driver was different though - I could tell he was making a special effort to sit upright and keep himself to himself. I only ever see this kind of behaviour during the month of Ramathan - in that month these guys will even return your money in case you over pay them!! The first time it happened to me my eyes almost popped out of my skull!!
Anyway, this one driver not withstanding, I think of all the rest of them as annoying, thieving perverts; unless of course they give me cause (on a case-by-case- basis) to think otherwise.
I like to take the front seat because it has the best leg room, and on this occasion the seat between me and the driver was not occupied and since I was going home pretty late, there were just two other passengers in the rest of the Matatu. Now usually, when these guys see that that there are too few passengers, they try to pawn them off to another Matatu that is going the same way, so that they can turn around and go get more passengers. The problem is, the new Matatu driver is even less invested and chances of being abandoned become even greater!
Anyway, true to form, this Matatu driver was trying to pawn us off and in desperation I decided to use my womanly wiles to persuade him to take us up to our agreed destination. So I start off by asking him what his name is (Daniels something or other), and ask him as sweetly as I can to please take us all the way and not leave us stranded in the middle of no where. After some back and forth, with the other passengers chipping in, he grudgingly relents, claiming that if I wasn't so young and beautiful he would not have agreed. I sit back, well satisfied with my efforts. Daniels however, not one to waste opportunity, immediately launches into some spiel about what a big favour he is doing me and how he will have to produce a signed statement to his wife concerning his whereabouts and why he is getting home so late, and how about I make it worth his while and give him my number.
I smile at him in the dark and go: "But you are married - what use will my phone number be?"
"Eh, don't worry - I know how to handle these things..."
"Well how do you know I am not married myself?"
"Oh, if you are married, that is even better! I like married women."
I shake my head: " No, I'm sorry, I never have anything to do with married men"
"Eee?" he complains, "you also reconsider" as he reaches across the seat separating us and pinches (!) my thigh!!
"Hey! Don't do that!" I exclaim..
He smiles to himself and withdraws his hand and drapes his arm across the seat next to me..
"So," he goes on "are you really married? I was thinking that I could take you all the way to your door step if you like"
I squeeze into my seat and move nearer the door, and reply as frostily as I can manage: "Thank you but no thanks - I already asked some one to pick me up from the bus stop" I lie.
"Who? Your husband?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact"
"Eeeh, why disturb him now?? You can even give him my number and ask him to call me - I think I can take him on."
I look over at the man and wonder what the hell he is going on about. "No, that won't be necessary - he doesn't mind picking me up" I continue trying to squeeze up against the door, and when he sees me doing this he reaches across me and says "hey - careful - the door is not locked!"; he locks the door and taps thigh nearest the door as he brings his hand back to the wheel.
"Stop that!" I snarl. He throws his head back and laughs: "Come on, we're just having a bit of harmless fun"
I snatch my bag off the seat between us and lay it across my lap, and proceed to sit there fuming. Honestly. These guys think that a little flirting gives them the license to basically molest you! I wonder if I should just get out of the Matatu but the road looks quite deserted, and I can't be sure that I will get another Matatu at this time of night. The other passengers chatter on, no clue what is going on. I turn around and engage the other passengers in some banal chatter, and ignore Daniels though he keeps trying to interrupt our conversation. He even turns up the music and dedicates some song that's playing (and that I have never heard) to me.
Eventually, we reach our destination. Quick as lightening, before I can open the door Daniels reaches across me to unlock the door and I immediately press into my seat and hope he does not try anything else. Sure enough though, as one hand unlocks the door the other hand snakes towards my crotch (!) and when I push it away roughly he growls in my ear "come on, at least let me just touch your hootchie, you've already refused to give me your number!"
I practically fall out of that Matatu as I shout: "I TOLD YOU TO STOP THAT!!"
The nerve!!
Anyway, I have to say that I met ONE nice driver once, and was so impressed with his gentlemanly behaviour that I have never forgotten it. In fact, I had decided to give Matatu Drivers the benefit of the doubt since then, but Daniels had to go and spoil it for them again! But about this other driver. I was on this Matatu headed out of town, in my usual spot by the driver, and was totally surprised by the courtesy with which he treated me. The main reason I was so impressed by this other driver was that even though he had every opportunity to keep brushing his fingers against my thigh as he moved the gear shift, he was veeery careful not to. Other drivers get their thrills by spreading their fingers out and moving the shift in such a way that that can feel you up... I am always totally baffled by that - I mean what can they possibly benefit from that?? These kinds of drivers will also usually slump in their seats and spread their legs so that their arm and thigh are in full contact with yours - this driver was different though - I could tell he was making a special effort to sit upright and keep himself to himself. I only ever see this kind of behaviour during the month of Ramathan - in that month these guys will even return your money in case you over pay them!! The first time it happened to me my eyes almost popped out of my skull!!
Anyway, this one driver not withstanding, I think of all the rest of them as annoying, thieving perverts; unless of course they give me cause (on a case-by-case- basis) to think otherwise.
Facebook took me over!
I used to come here very often to blog (read vent, reflect, etc.), but since I discovered Facebook I have a much quicker way to express myself - in that one sentence status report! Nevertheless, the last few days I have suddenly felt that I needed to take up blogging again.
It is impossible to compress one year of absence, so I will just take up with the most recent developments.
So. This morning I wake up from a dream. (Yes - as recently as this morning :-)) There is this guy that I think is totally hot and I think is kind of into me - 'kind of' being the operative phrase, seeing as he makes no effort to pursue me beyond sending me flirty messages on Facebook and texting me now and then. Anyway: had a really nice dream where he came to visit with me in my childhood home, and we took a walk hand in hand, which progressed to arms around waists, and finally to being engulfed by his arm around my shouder. As we were getting to the end of the walk he pulled me down to sit on the grass (I guess it was already dark since the grass had dew on it), and just as we were getting cozy, my stupid alarm woke me up! :-S
I have not had such a nice dream in ages and ages.. I attribute it to watching that movie 'wall e' last night - a robot love story that was so sweet!
That's all. Thought I would share. :-)
It is impossible to compress one year of absence, so I will just take up with the most recent developments.
So. This morning I wake up from a dream. (Yes - as recently as this morning :-)) There is this guy that I think is totally hot and I think is kind of into me - 'kind of' being the operative phrase, seeing as he makes no effort to pursue me beyond sending me flirty messages on Facebook and texting me now and then. Anyway: had a really nice dream where he came to visit with me in my childhood home, and we took a walk hand in hand, which progressed to arms around waists, and finally to being engulfed by his arm around my shouder. As we were getting to the end of the walk he pulled me down to sit on the grass (I guess it was already dark since the grass had dew on it), and just as we were getting cozy, my stupid alarm woke me up! :-S
I have not had such a nice dream in ages and ages.. I attribute it to watching that movie 'wall e' last night - a robot love story that was so sweet!
That's all. Thought I would share. :-)
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
On Trust
The last few weeks have been so busy that I have not had time to compose myself enough to blog; which is too bad since a lot has happened that will now be lost in the black hole in my memory. Actually my memory is so bad (and I know I should not confess such a negative thing) that I think one of the reasons I tell so many stories about what I am thinking and doing so that the people I tell can remember for me.. One of my closest friends remembers stuff so much better than me that that she sometimes has to convince me that this stuff really happened to me, recreating the setting and time and everything to aid my remembrance!!
Anyway.
Today I was forced out of my semi-retirement because of something that I learnt about myself this weekend - it really shook me to the bones.
So. It is like this. I know a good man. I have known him for five years. Apart from the first three months after we met, we’ve lived in different countries during this time. However, we have managed to keep in regular contact (mostly through his effort really). We have spent maybe ten days together during two different periods in the time we have been apart. Now, from the moment we met, we both knew that ours was no ordinary friendship, and that but for the lack of opportunity, we would definitely have dated. During the 10 days or so that we have spent together (mostly on holiday), we have found that we really like one another. We have discussed possibilities of dating but neither of us is able to move, nor can either of us handle long distance dating. We have decided to continue to be in touch while we see how things develop, but we are essentially free to date other people.
Now.
He has recently expressed a desire to see me in person during his Summer Break this year, and is looking into visiting with me in my country (although this is not definite yet). These plans have revived in me the question of where the two of us are going, especially in light of the view that every time we part after one of these visits we are plunged into paroxysms of longing and despair! (at least I am!). As such, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to ask only to come if he sees a future for our relationship. He said ok, he’d put this into consideration. We had a long talk about it and exchanged a few lovey dovey sms (we do this despite our ‘friends’ staus). Around that time, he took a few days replying an inane sms that I sent him and when he finally responded I completely flew off the handle. I told him that if he could not take 1 or 10 or even 30 minutes out of his day to respond to text (he says e-mail and text take him ages to compose), then I did not want the ‘free time’ that he was going to bestow on me during his Summer Break either. (Plus a host of other stuff ranting around the same theme - his not having time for me.)
He smsd to say he was sorry he had not replied my sms earlier but that all the same my sms made him out to be more evil than he was., finishing with a promise to write me an e-mail later. Later that night he sent me another sms saying he’d sent the e-mail but that as I read it, I should remember how much he liked me.
WOW! The Panic that set in!! Let me preface this by saying that this is one of the most patient men I know. I have pulled stunts that would un-horse a lesser man, but this man stays constant in his affection and commitment (to staying in my life, if only in a friendly capacity). So, that he would send me an sms to ask me to keep an eye on how much he likes me as I read this e-mail convinced me that he had finally had enough and was going to cut ties!
Since it was too late to go out to look for an internet café that was open, I had to wait until the morrow but let me tell you: I passed a night like none I have ever known before! The torture!! Of course it became crystal clear that I wanted this man and I to have another chance – or shall I say a chance? In truth we have never really had this. Here he was willing to come all the way to
The next day I lingered in bed, dreading the moment of truth. The need to ppe tried to push me out of bed but I resisted until my bladder was near bursting. I could sense the sunlight behind my closed eyelids and knew it was well into mid-morning. Still I resisted. Finally the pressure to pee became too great and I had to go - so opening my eyes to slits, I felt my way to the bathroom, and returned straight back to bed. After some minutes lying immobile in my bed, I realised the futility of my actions and decided to just get up and go and face the music.
SO. He told me he was really insulted that knowing how busy he is I would say that was only coming to see me because he had ‘time on his hands’ That he really understood I was disappointed about his late reply, but that he had wanted to include some info on his proposed trip in his reply, and this info had been so long in coming and he had ended up smsing without it anyway. That this not withstanding, he knew and I knew that our underlying disagreement was my wish to have ‘all or nothing’, while he could not in all honesty promise anything before he got his Medical Training over with. He really wished we could still be friends because really he had never met anyone like me. All the women he met simply did not measure up to me either. Moreover, he was afraid that he might one day regret it but he is simply not in a position to just say: LETS DO IT! This said, he wanted me to be happy, and he respected my feelings. He finished by saying he still wanted to come see me if I let him, and that he really wished we would still be friends.
Anyway, the short of it is that I felt such relief that I fairly burst into tears!! I could not believe I had gotten another chance. He said he had been really hurt by my remarks and that he hoped I would apologise for them, so I just wrote back to him apologising for my hurtful remarks and telling him was more than welcome to visit.
So. What did this incident teach me?
Well, first, let me tell you about this man. If you ask me on my sober days, I will tell you that I have not the slightest doubt about the depth of feeling this man has for me. He shows it in ways too many to count. He respects, admires and delights in me. I can describe in glowing detail all the things we have in common, and tell you about the countless hours we have spent on the phone sharing our lives across the ocean. I will tell you the strong attraction that we have between us and how the very blood in my veins boils if his fingers so much as brush my arm!
So why do I attempt, again and again, to push him away? This weekend it came to me clear as a bell. I think I am just really AFRAID to risk my heart! Hmm... I know this sounds obvious. Cliché. Too simple perhaps. However, I think it is completely true. I mean, one would think that the natural response to such steadfast affection should be to receive it, not to reject it. I am unable to simply believe that someone wants to continue calling me, to visit me, and to share his life with me, even when things don’t seem so defined between us. Before I can risk my affections further (by enjoying another holiday with him) I want reassurance that there is a future, that he would move mountains to be with me, give up his ambitions, do what he needed to do, to be with me. This is really unfair I think. If anything, I have much more flexibility on the moving front since I have been admitted to two Universities in
I think that what I have learnt most of all is to allow relationships to unfold at their own pace – I can only live my best life in the meantime. I should quit trying to control things, and while admitting my desire to be in a loving relationship, have the faith that love will come to me, and that it will come to stay.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
MADLY, DEEPLY, TRULY
No. Madly, Deeply, Truly - Unsatisfied? Unplugged? Out of sync? Dare I say it – Unhappy? I really can’t believe I dare say it (although I have said it) - for fear that it might actually come to pass! But perhaps I just have to face it, rather than hide from it..
So what has brought this on?
Well, it has probably been a long time a-cooking… This year was one year longer than I should have been where I am now. The whole year has actually been characterised by a pervasive longing to be elsewhere. The Buddhists say that desire is the root of all suffering, you know, wishing that things were different. BUT: (and I have said this before) how can one live without desire? It is all very well (and probably much more peaceful) to accept things as they are and declare them good and as they should be – however, and maybe it is a sign of severe spiritual paucity, I just cannot help my self!
My plight is not helped by recent warm communications with a man that I really like but that is far from me; or by the news that I can repair to a world class University anytime from now to start a PhD if I can find the money; or the glaring fact that these employers of mine hope to keep me in this (loathed!) position for the next two years – of course they cannot force me, but while they asked me nicely to ‘act’ for six months while they look for a ‘substantive’ replacement, they are clearly doing nothing of the sort. Leaving them in a lurch will look unprofessional, and I will end up looking like the bad guy!
Moreover, it is not as if I even have where to go with all my threatening to leave! This is an even more depressing thought because it shows how low my faith is of late!! Especially compared to earlier in the year: I had a chance to change jobs then… I went to the interview full of optimism, presented myself in my full glory, but was careful to tell nothing but the truth about my current aspirations – which included plans to pursue my PhD in the very near future. I suspected that this revelation might hurt my chances but I had no qualms admitting it (and anyway I would have been mis-representing myself) – now that was faith talking!! I wonder if I am not now losing all hope just as the light of dawn peeps over the horizon!
But anyway, what is the way forward, besides and beyond this ranting?
Possibly:
Try and keep the faith. Hold on. Keep praying. Keep hoping.
Or
Change direction slightly. There is a new opportunity at work that would tie in very well with the subject of my PhD study – it would involve me being responsible for the quality assurance of programs within the University, an initiative funded by the German Government, and for which position I only have one competitor currently. It would also be in line with a proposal that I made the University a year ago in which I tried to get them to change my duties so that my work would better match my skills and aspirations – as I said, I have been in a place that I have not wanted to be this whole academic year!! Receipt of that proposal was acknowledged but nothing was really done about it. Maybe I should revive it together with my bid to be the quality assurance person. The only fly in that ointment is the fact that I would have to work under the MOST difficult individual in the University – but I think I am equal to the task – all his attempts to bully me in our previous encounters have met with my most charming but determined resistance!! And anyway, I have already been working with the second most difficult in the University so! J
Hmmm.
What to do?
All this of course is not helped by the fact that I am in the middle of end of semester marking – good GOD but it is gruelling!! On the other hand it has been the source of serious self motivating efforts, for which I can pat myself on the back – I really had to put some emotional intelligence to work Monday morning!! Proof that every cloud has a silver lining!
And another thing:
All my friends at work have left – even the residential hottie that I have been flirting with is hot-footing it out of here tomorrow!! Ah well. Better call on some more of that emotional intelligence and pick myself up. As for resolving my dilemma, I have decided – tentatively – that I will go ahead and renew my proposal from last year together with making the bid for quality assurance person, and if this yields nothing, then I will really have to think about leaving all together!! I cannot put myself through another year of this misery!! At the same time of course, I will hold on to the faith – this proposal actually fits perfectly with the PhD program, especially if I follow the sandwich model, which model will also put me in the same town as my far away love – if only the money for this PhD could show up!! L Or rather – it WILL show up J
P.S. Is this me trying to hold on to BOTH possibilities at once? Sigh……
Thursday, April 10, 2008
SO, WHAT'S UP?
This evening, I took a mat and sat on my veranda and tried to face my current dis-ease. I feel all confused. Now this has become of great concern because although I have moments of respite, I have really been unable to shake this feeling for the last month or so – since just after Easter actually. It is said that all negative emotions – anger, confusion, depression, etc., are signs that one is out of alignment, and today I finally have to ask myself the question:
‘What’s up?’
The signs of this dis-ease: I catch myself frowning more often than smiling (although I have frowned since babyhood - so maybe that shouldn’t alarm me – or was I confused then too?); my face is breaking up more than usual, I have put on weight, the other day I had a bout of manic eating that left me holding my stomach in an anguish of painful indigestion, and then other days I’m off my food! Plus I am passing these great amounts of really foul gas!! Isn’t this proof that systems are broken? Although it could also be the half kilo of lamb that I ate earlier this week – at two sittings granted but still.
Today I sat at my desk failing to decide what to have for lunch, until I was so hungry I rushed home and begun to throw things into a bowl and mash them – in went that over ripe avocado that I had been wondering what to do with, then the idea came to me to make guacamole, so I cut up the onions and the tomatoes, balked at the garlic, threw in some left over sardines, grated some cheese into it, salt and pepper, tasted, didn’t taste right but couldn’t figure out why, I added some lemon, still not right but eh! - ate it anyway. Made some coffee with milk and ate two cookies. Then lay down and 20 minutes later began to roll around on my bed with a terrific stomach ache, and a nausea so powerful it had me holding my nose away from my clothes because they just made me want to throw up! Infact my whole house smelled – of onion peelings and stale cooking oil and other unidentifiable smells.. As I sit here, my prospects for dinner don’t look so great either – I made this vegetable juice yesterday with celery and parsley and carrots that is just plain nasty!! But it sounds so healthy that I am thinking maybe I will take it with some yogurt? Or lace it with gin. Or both! J Although, God knows I don’t think I should try to bury all this under alcohol – and anyway, alcohol always makes me feel even worse.
Something is not right. Obviously.
I know it all has to do with what I need to be doing to follow my dreams. Some beliefs say that everything is as it should be, and is already perfect (would that be the Buddhists?). Soon after I left Uni I learnt what I think was a valuable and enduring lesson – suffering is good for me – it paves the way for change. On the other hand, if I understand them correctly, the Buddhists say we cause our own suffering, and that suffering arises out of desire – but how to live without desire? I don’t remember if there is such a thing as ‘good desire’, I think all desire is supposed to be detrimental! Anyway - enough holding forth on my half knowledge of Buddhism – to more practical matters…
What do I really want?? What will make me happy? (How is that for practical?) The eternal quest for happiness seems to have me in a stranglehold! My Christian friends might say to me that I am floundering in this fashion as a direct result of having left the straight and narrow – ok, I’m willing to consider this, but let’s put that possibility to one side for the moment. A recurring thought in the past year or so is the fact that my job no longer satisfies me. And then, there are things I love to do, that I don’t do enough of (such as travel, immerse myself in new cultures, get answers to big questions, etc.) All this dissatisfaction is compounded by the fact that my only two friends have left the University and yet my general beliefs and culture have tended to isolate me; the only other person I could halfway talk to has a girlfriend who treats me with high suspicion.
How do you like the pity party so far?
The one shinning thing in my life at the moment is my reading!! That really does it for me.
A few posts back I signed off saying that I should go and figure out what I want – I am afraid I have not made any big strides in that direction, so I am forced to come to a point where I have decided that I should take up serious prayer again – the bible says that we do not know what we should pray about, but the Spirit itself intercedes on our behalf with groans that words cannot express. Maybe I should literally cry out to God, prostrate myself before him, roll on the floor if necessary – maybe sit in sackcloth and ashes outside my office (J that would be quite a sight!) One way or another this has got to end!!
This business with the Dutchman also does not help matters. The man continues to call, but says nothing in effect. And I am really able to just let him come to his own decision on this (wonder of wonders!), but in the meantime this upsets my equilibrium – I just wish he could work out his side of the issue without having to speak to me at all! The area of relationships is another one that I know I should decide on what kind of companion I need and just let God pick him out!! I think I am still secretly hanging on to this man – good though he may be.
So anyway, I am sitting here in quiet, feeling a little relieved after thinking these things through (I seem to think much better when I am writing – talking?), but I still feel as though I am not arriving at a concrete decision. At this point I need to remind myself that I should allow myself to be present in the chaos, and know that out of the chaos always emerges a perfect solution. Not only that, things are as they should be, and I should allow myself to suffer needlessly – it is just that I do not yet see – but soon I shall – let me hold on to that.
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