A's pointless chatter

Japan

One of my most interesting trips, in many ways.  Scenic natural beauty meets cutting-edge technology. The snow-capped peaks of Mt. Fuji are perching against the sky. Tokyo's mad rush is only a distant memory here, yet the 12 million-metropolis is only a 2-hour train ride away.
The Asian nation is awash with contrasts, every step of the way. Anime inspired candy-wrapper-coloured glitz seems to blend harmoniously with ancient traditions, whose presence is commemorated by adorned temples and holy shrines.
A display of architectural masterpieces assembled along perfectly manicured avenues, Tokyo is art-induced titillation par excellence.
Aesthetic appeal and Asian cuisine delights aside, one of the things that impressed me most about this unusual country is how everything was built from essentially nothing.
Having been perpetrator and victim alike, Japan's past does not only recall heroic ventures, but also war, atrocities and bloodshed.
Yet, the country seems to have risen like a phoenix to new life and progressed to becoming the second largest economic power. This is particularly impressive considering that Japan cannot lean on natural resources for additional income.  Having succeeded despite such unfavourable conditions, its achievements put many countries to shame that are rich in natural resources but mismanaged, thus sinking deeper into poverty by the day.
One word that comes to mind is hard-working and efficiency. People take pride in their work, even if this involves nothing more than mopping the floors of the subway station.
I am sure there are (racial, social,…) conflicts and animosities that people have to face as part of their daily lives. No society is perfect, even if the facade seem flawless. And yet seeing those hard-working people who politely bow their heads to greet you, makes you wonder what the world would be like, if people focussed a little more on manufacturing shiny little cars....

United Colors II

I know I had been silent for a while. Call it a time out.
Things have happened in my absence, of course, and even though many times I felt inspired to add another thought to share, I decided against it.
But today I want to share a small story with you, it relates to one of my very first posts on here.

It was about a year ago, maybe even more, when I met this young African guy Jeff on the train and gave him my magazine, after he had asked me where one could buy English magazines in Austria.
Do you remember my earlier post United Colors?
If not, feel free to scroll all the way down and read it again.
But back to Jeff, I mentioned how we had exchanged a couple of emails after that and then we stopped communicating.
I pretty much forgot all about it.
And now, a year later, I suddenly find this message in my inbox. He wanted to get in touch again, as that one little incident had made such an impact on him back then. He told me how he had faced diversities, being wrongly imrpisoned for a few months even. Now, life has been better, he started his own business and him and his girlfriend are expecting their first baby. In his email he mentions how he had not met anyone who was so nice to him here ever since our encounter on the train. This statement really touched and shocked me at the same time. For me it was a brief encounter and a random act of kindness, nothing I wouldn't have done on any other occasion.
However touched I am, it also proves to me that our world can be very cold. Especially people of different ethnicity often face invisible barriers. In this context I remember two movies I recently watched, Babel and Freedom Writers. Whereas the former shows how kindness for some is a cultural given, just recall the scene where the young guide refuses to accept money in exchange for his help, the latter proves small things can have a far-reaching effect. I felt very empowered after watching the movie,  but I feel even more empowered having found resonance in real life.
Apparently, it is still about the little things...

Charly

In Memoriam

Charly

18 November 1994 - 16 July 2006

Soccer, Berlin and the Healing Power of Kissing

I just came back from a weekend trip to Berlin which happened to also coincide with the World Cup this year. Seeing that Germany beat Sweden Germans flocked to the streets on Saturday to celebrate their victory. Berlin was basked in a sea of German flags and time stood still for the remainder of the day.

Would be of course interesting to be around if they indeed happen to win the World Cup. But maybe best to stay home after all...

I read an interesting article this morning. Dr. Hajime Kimata, a Japanese doctor, recently conducted an experiment with people suffering from allergies. He recruited 24 couples who were instructed to kiss for a period of 30-minutes. Blood samples taken before and after the experiment showed a significant decrease in immunoglobulin E (IgE), which is responsible for triggering symptoms of asthma and hay fever. 

While I am one of the lucky ones who has been spared from allergies thus far, the idea of swaping spit does sound more fun than popping pills. So, maybe best put into practice in the name of further research;-)

Happy kissing!

Vienna - again

I am back in Euroland, my jet-lag is slowly wearing off and I am walking for miles and miles....ah, how I have missed the feeling of feet sore from hours of endless walking. Interesting how one can miss all those small things that you don't even happen to notice while living in a place for a while.

Europe is all about soccer these days in case you haven't noticed. People glued to TV sets everywhere, in bars, cafes, restaurants, stores and of course at home. Host Germany is doing really well, Brasil seems to have disappointed somewhat. But there is still a long way to go....haven't made up my mind yet about Berlin next week. It might be very last minute.

Current suggestions include Paris, Rome and NY....and someone was suggesting Berlin the other day. I have been researching NY lately, discovering that I have missed too many good places last time...

Doggie is doing better these days too:)

rainy thoughts

Is it just me? Or does rain automatically trigger thoughts?

I believe my time here is nearing its end...

I eventually did find good sushi in Houston...

Still haven't made it to Austin or Dallas...

I did not find what I expected when I came here but I found things I did not expect...

I learned to value A/C, in Houston it is indeed a necessity...

You can trust people who take care of yellow rubber duckys...

I am enjoying my new collection of endless hours of music...

...even in Houston the rain does cease eventually...

the seemingly trivial

Sometimes it is those little things that make a great difference. Our little quirks and oddities, or however you may want to label them, not speaking in derogatory terms, but rather with great fondness.

I wonder if everyone is able to recall those cherished little things that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside, or whether it is only something I have discovered for myself. Small, seemingly trivial things that have this soothing effect that makes you forget and zone out.  The feeling comes close to the psychological concept of 'flow', a state we experience when we are fully one with the task at hand. Time and context become meaningless and everything seems to virtually flow.

Earlier today I remembered one of those small things that I have cherished for years. I am not sure about the origins, but I have always loved to look at books with someone else, preferably an atlas:) To simply listen silently while the other is flipping through the pages. For some unexplainable reason I find this simple act extremely soothing and could sit there practically for hours, being completely happy with only observing and listening to the sound of fingers running through paper. It almost makes me feel as if I were a kid again, recalling how my mom used to sit there with me, reading out loud countless children's stories to me.  I am not sure how the fascination with atlases came about, but looking at the world in front of us makes me realise how much there is to see and how small and meaningless things become in relation to the Earth. I love to travel, both in theory and in practice. Something about being in motion makes me feel more alive than any other experience I recall.

My recent couple of months have been filled with transitions, both in terms of places and changes. I am once again back in Houston, the place I now eye with mixed feelings. I am not sure about the direction of the upcoming road, as the unplanned and unforeseen tends to dictate my recent course of events...but as a friend of mine would say, this is what ultimately makes life interesting.

Is the glass half full?

"Everything happens for a reason", I am sure we have all heard this phrase before, me included, countless times. Usually voiced by someone who is trying to encourage us, make us feel better about something bad that happened. I remember having this conversation recently with a friend of mine. I was reflecting upon my life, or to be precise rather the most recent few years of it and how much had happened in such a relatively short time span. Major changes have forced me to readjust and adapt my perspective accordingly. I had to face a series of setbacks. But all in all while looking back at the bottom of the ladder I can say that I have overall continued toward a postive upward trend.

I had met my friend inmidst of the beginning of the end of a significant period of my life and looking back I feel bad about having been such a basketcase at the time we met. Well, given the circumstances this may be natural, but still somewhat of an unusual start of a new friendship. He however, pointed out that what matters to him is what has emerged from that, or how I have transformed throughout the years to arrive where I am now.

Especially when we look at massive disasters that affect an entire group of people, we can observe how differently people cope with one and the same scenario. While some mourn the loss and linger on the bottom, others will start to pick up the pieces after the intial shock and get to work. One thought inherent in Buddhist philosophy I always liked, is the notion that nothing is permanent, which is why we should accept and let go. This, I believe helps the one who will let the past rest and put the present to work.  Whenever I have my downtimes, like we all do, I try to remind myself of a few key things. First, the assets, what is there that I still have, that I feel strong about, that is worth focusing on instead. Second, I try to accept the past and its consequences, be it good or bad. You will just walk two steps back if you regret having or not having done something, while missing to react to that what you are faced with right now. People have a tendency to either live in the past or the future, while none of the two are attainable.

I often hear the phrase, "I shouldn't have..." and last time I heard it, I recall saying, "But this can't be changed. It already happened and we just have to react and deal with the status quo." Same reason why I don't like apologies or promises, I rather wait for the actions, that what you perceive now, not yesterday or tomorrow.

Also, there is truth in the saying "there is something good in everything bad", you just need to look close enough. If I retrace the succession of events, I realise many things would have never taken place had they not been preceded by something bad. Unexpected chances are often born that way and I am fascinated to see such course of events.

...and in closing the circle, I would have probably missed the opportunity for a great friendship had I not been confronted with an unfortunate situation at that point. And in this aspect there is indeed something good in everything bad:)

Chesapeake, VA

Don't you wish you were a puppy on some days? You can drool on yourself, gulp your food down uttering strange noises and yet everyone just thinks you are so adorable. You are being patted and played with all day. And in your spare time you mainly eat and sleep. A hell of a life if you ask me!
Ok, granted these priviliges come with being cute and who can compare to a little fluffy ball with pointy little teeth that feel more like a tickle when he nibbles on your toes.
My days have been obviously very stressful lately... On Sunday I boarded yet another plane to head south to Virginia to see my friend Krisna after months of separation. We used to be best friends while she was living in Vienna and I was sad to see her leave last Christmas. On the other hand having friends in different places does have its benefits, which I willingly admit.
New York was great, much better than my first experience two years ago, I went on a culinary discovery tour, realising that I could easily get broke just on food.
I finally met up with Inge again. We used to be in highschool together and have known each other for more than 15 years.
Pretty neat how one's paths can cross again.
Ariel and I broke the pattern, and I purchased a much commented pink jacket.
I did bring the rain with me to Virginia, well initially at least. But things continue to look promising and I still have my hopes up.
It is definitely not raining men, this is a very estrogen loaded 3-girls-household, thank God we have a male puppy to balance things out. We are having fun and pictures shall follow shortly....

Friends

I place much importance on my friendships, especially those that last for a long time. Friendship to me is a give and take and resists the test of time. People come and go, many pledge and promise things, friends don't, they simply act, they show friendship through their actions.
I have been meaning to dedicate a post to some of those whose friendship I treasure and value most, but somehow I never got around doing it....well, most recently I was once again reminded of the meaning of real friendship.:)

My friend Krisna, a wonderful spirit, one of the few people who knows more about me than most everyone else. We have been through a lot together, being there for each other countless times. She is back in Virginia now and I often miss her, but I know that neither distance nor time will harm our friendship. I know, also she has proved it many times, that she is always there for me, and vice versa.

My friend George, who never fails to support and forgive me, even when I make mistakes. We have been friends for many, many years and he has seen me go through different stages in my life. He is one of the most patient and forgiving people I know. Even when I disappoint him, he is there for me. He calls me his little sister.:)
Someone who I would name first on my list thinking of friends for life.

John and Michelle, we have only known each other for a short period of time, but those two embody every word others say when it comes to friendship. Particularly most recently they have been there for me on countless occasions, working with me through difficulties. It is strange, but even though we really haven't known each other for long, I feel as if I could talk with them about anything. With Michelle I feel almost as if we had known each other for years. She is one of those people who will make you comfortable by her sheer presence. John is almost like the brother I never had, someone who will support me and equally put my head straight and my feet back on the ground. Even when I feel lousy he does not fail to make me laugh.

Cort, we sometimes go without talking for a while, simply because we are so far apart and both our lives are busy, but I know I can count on him to always be my friend. We have shared many ups and downs together, putting friendship into practice on two continents. Cort is a wonderful spirit whose energy and zest always put a smile on my face.

Ariel and I have never met in one and the same place twice, well maybe this year we will break the pattern, I am thinking of stopping by in NY. He is one of those friends who I equally value and admire. I admire his drive, his zest for life and spirit of adventure. Even when he is having a hard time he will make you laugh instead of you supporting him. He proved to be a true friend when I first met him and despite the distance we have remained friends throughout the years...meeting on unexpected roads down the road we have shared some great moments together.

Two people I would also like to mention, first of Ed...he and I only had  the chance to spend little time together, unfortunately, but he was there for me at an extremely difficult point in my life. A very caring person, someone who will not let you down and run, even when things get rough.
Dustin I only met recently, but aside from lending me an open ear I have been truly touched by his careing and supportive nature. He always checks up on me, making sure I am ok... Sometimes it's those little things that make the difference.

Isabell I have known ever since highschool, we had our ups and downs and remained friends throughout the years. She has been there for me many times and she never fails to put a smile on my face.

Recently, I had to bid farewell to another special friend, William. He and I had shared many unique moments and equally sparked each others lives. I am glad I made a difference in your life:)

Mike is someone I have known for years as well, we have grown a little apart lately, mainly due to time constraints, but he is also one of those people I know they will always be there for me.

There have been a number of wonderful people who have given me their friendship throughout the years, some of whom I lost touch with but they too have been great friends at one point or another, and I have not forgotten about you.

New shores

I have been rightfully accused of erratically changing my whereabouts. To make a long story short, I have safely landed in IAH last Saturday. A turbulent trip with unexpected surprises on both ends of the continuum was followed by an equally eventful succession of my first few days in Houston.
Seeing old friends, new friends, my first ever baseball game, capoiera and live music, idyllic and scenic towns contrasting with the vibrant buoyancy of downtown cafes and bars. Last night's sushi was better than I expected. I am still hoping to see some live jazz and the vague prospect of enjoying more musical superbities in New Orleans on the following weekend had presented itself briefly on the horizon...so we will see what popps up next.
I am still a bit off schedule, just woke up from a power nap, but things are starting to normalize slowly.
This morning I visited the production site of premium quality leather accessories for aviators and related professions recently launched and currently managed by my friend John. www.coyoteworks.net
I was impressed by what dedicated enterpreneurship and an inventive idea can spark. So if you are looking for classy binders, bags and the like let me know.;) (no, no, no hidden advertising by all means:P)

This trip has been full of surprises. Some good, some bad, and both equally adventurous. I guess one of the things that intrigues me about novelty is the challenge that comes with it. While you never know what you get yourself into when testing new grounds, exploring new places etc., the experience is always profoundly shaping. In my eyes the " real thing" will never live up to the second hand perspective as for instance displayed on TV etc.
Anyhow, without knowing what unexpected twists and turns will follow around the corner, I am excited at the prospect of exploring a new place, new people... and there shall be more to come...

World's best places to live

According to a survey recently published by Mercer HR Consulting Vienna ranks fourth among the best places to live worldwide, only surpassed by Zurich, Geneva and Vancouver. See: www.mercerhr.com
Despite of having lived in Vienna for quite a while I have never thought of the place in such terms.
Sure, it is a nice and safe place to live, crime is low, poverty is relatively well controlled; economy is healthy and growing, in fact the Austrian stock market marked a very successful past year. The social welfare system guarantees health care for all citizens. The only downfall is this is of course all financed by taxes that can be exorbitant. But all in all in congruence with statistical analyses a very liveable place.
One just never notices such, once you get used to the status quo you take things for granted.
And I am no exception, I have failed to notice the beauty of some of the most remarkable architecture to be found along Vienna's famous Ring road long ago. Where tourists stand in awe, and marvel, I simply stroll by.
The only times I come to really notice, to see, is when it is not present. The times when I am away, when I picture those details in my memory.
I begin to miss the small alleyways, the downtown pedestrian zone, the botanical garden steps away from my apartment... Not that I am unhappy or discontent when that happens. I just start feeling this urge, longing. Funny how we always long for what we don't have. Or maybe we just need a constant comparison, contrasts.
Things in motion tend to fascinate me, draw my attention. A train in the distance, an approaching plane, sailboats drifting off toward the horizon...
However good of a place Vienna may be, I am starting to feel restless again as I write these lines. Time to see new shores, new cities, new people...

The unquestioned or why we tend to take things for granted

Safety, a basic human right and something we tend to take for granted. As long as we are safe and sound there is simply no reason to worry, right?
Why question and bother if things are smooth sailing? I am not necessarily promoting life in fear and advocating for mistrusting everyone, but sometimes we tend to be unnecessarily careless with our health, our safety etc.
I just heard the unsettling news from a good friend of mine who lives in LA. She told me how she was attacked and threatened with a knife recently, but somehow she fought the attackers off and escaped the whole incident with a few cuts and bruises. The external scars will disappear with time but that what is hard to overcome are the invisible injuries; split seconds that may be relived over and over again.
Those who have ever been in a similar situation know the feeling, myself included.
I was lucky, very, very lucky.
My assault last year ended with 'only' a few bruises and scrapes. The external wounds eventually healed, but I have never felt as safe anymore and I am always watchful of my surroundings. I tend to get nervous if people walk too close behind me and I often increase my pace or cross over to the other side of the street.
Chances are usually very slim that one will be attacked repeatedly in the same place but one's mind is hard to trick into believing the facts.
We learn from mistakes, in fact we are trained to learn from danger, which is helpful to avoid similar risks.
I wish I was there to help my friend, being familiar with the feeling I can relate all too well.
Another friend complained recently how his girlfriend would be upset because she felt he was too over-protective by worrying about her being out late at night on her own.
I too used to wander around believing nothing would happen to me, as I was careful, kept a low profile, until...
Me and my friend we were both somewhat lucky, I just feel sad thinking about those who may have been attacked thereafter by the same perpetrators.
....funny how one never questions things, such as well-being, health, safety, etc. until the coin flips and we are confronted with the other end of the scale.

Wealth = Freedom ?

I haven't vanished off the face of the Earth, no. I was reminded a couple of days ago that my blog has been neglected lately. Aside from the usual hustle and bustle my inspiration seems to have hibernated along with the sheer eternal winter here. Well, with mini spurts of spring in between, but then just as you start digging out spring and summer clothes, you realize it is snowing again.
What better way to defy merciless winter temperatures than by eating hot soup, and since I am determined to make Thai soup, I decide to venture out, wrapped in various layers, heading to  Naschmarkt in search of Thai basil and Co.
I am lucky, most days I can shift my schedule around, for instance whenever I need to give in to cravings for Thai food. On days like these I love my job, on most others I do too.
While I spoon up the divine result of my culinary efforts I listen to some social worker commenting on the radio. He is talking about something referred to as the "manager's disease", pointing out that contrary to one’s expectations there are more poor people who suffer from it. "One may conclude that poverty causes more stress." He continues his monologue. However, according to him this is only partly true and does not explain the higher prevalence of the disease amongst those economically less favored. Rather, the well paid manager is able to interrupt work more often by investing into a brief escape, such as a weekend trip or a massage, and thus breaking with the distressing pattern more easily than his poverty stricken counterpart who has to keep going, driven by survival. While often others depend on him/her as the breadwinner.
According to this theory less poverty equals more freedom.
On the other hand, doesn't  wealth often generate stress on its own? Worries about maintaining wealth and possible loss of it. So once again the golden middle path seems to be the right one. But there is some truth to the former theory. The one who does not have to work in order to survive is able to interrupt work if s/he chooses to and leave stress behind.
I am not necessarily wealthy, but my job does allow for a certain amount of freedom, such as taking an extended lunch break, walking down to the market, simply indulging in culinary thoughts... and my thoughts wander back to the vendors who rise early, work hard and late, defying the cold.
On days like these I do feel fortunate.

The Power of Laughter

Cultural differences are attached to great importance, so much so that consultants are sought out to mediate between the enormous gap of dos and don'ts that seem sheer unsurmountably numerous in a culture alien to our own. Mannerisms, characteristics and traditions aside, I believe the most crucial bridge or gap to another person is humor. In my eyes it is one of the key differences between cultures and will often be decisive as to whether we are in or out. If someone tells a joke in a group and one person does not understand the punchline while everyone else is cracking up, the unfortunate individual does not only feel left out, but has indeed missed the connecting moment and ends up being 'left out'. In terms of culture, humor can vary a lot, in contrast to the rather dry, dark sarcastic British humor as portrayed by Monty Python, I find American humor more overt, often full of sexual innuendos. It's interesting how one thing may be pissing-your-pants funny to one person and not funny at all to someone else. The importance of the cultural context becomes very clear once we are required to translate a joke into another language and suddenly realize that the punchline is completely lost.
Humor is one of the key characteristics that potential mates are judged by. Whereas women generally prefer a man who is actively humorous and can make them laugh, the male counterparts seek to make a woman laugh and tend to see her as more likeable when she is entertained by his jokes.
Sigmund Freud had already dedicated an entire book titled Jokes and their relationship to the unconscious to the importance of jokes. He saw them as a safe outlet for forbidden thoughts and desires. A way to voice criticism without further (negative) consequences. A theory that seems even more plausible when we think of blond jokes, jokes involving ethnicities, sexual jokes. Presented as a joke they are usually not perceived as offensive; however, the same facts told in an objective and sensible manner will most likely not prompt laughter but rather verbal or physical attacks.
I too have found that one of the key characteristics that I base my judgement on about people is their sense of humor. And in response to the question what I find attractive in the opposite sex, humor would probably rank amongst the top of my list.
But what is the secret of the enigmatic power of humor? Why is it attached to so much importance?
A smile breaks the ice for sure, but it also makes us feel better. When we laugh we generally feel good, the body produces endorphins and once the natural high kicks in and we float on giggly bubbles, we feel refreshed, energized and happy. Humor signals the absence of threat or danger, not that this is always objectively true, but a given situation appears less menacing, less burdening.
People deal differently with each and the same scenario and humor is often a relevant coping mechanism. The situation will not be altered but that what can be changed is how we tackle it and our reactions will set the further course of events.
...anyhow after all that psycho babble something to smile:
Neurotics build castles in the sky.
Psychotics live in them.
Psychiatrists collect the rent.

Addendum - Why Men are like TV production companies?

This post has prompted more reactions than any other of my previous entries. Laudations and criticism equally distributed.
While one friend praised my writing skills suggesting for me to join the London Times as a columnist, another friend felt that the allegory in Why Men are like TV production companies? seemed a bit crude and simplistic. I am truly sorry if I offended anyone, this was certainly not my intention. Please remember to always read my posts with a grain of salt and that life is too serious to be taken seriously. Not every bit of information on here is factual and some of it is purposely overly exaggarated, such as the above mentioned post. I did not mean to offend anyone, let alone men. I have a weakness for them I will even put it in writing. I love men!
Nonetheless, I am glad my post prompted as many reactions as it did.

Someone continued my thoughts, pinpointing the role of mammal biology and basic instincts.
A very interesting thought, indeed. To what extent are we simply ruled by our animalistic nature? The id, as Freud had coined it, this inner drive that is beyond the control of reason and social norms. The movie Instinct has attempted to answer this question in a very picturesque narrative. Demonstrating how eons of evolution can be wiped out when it comes to fighting for survival. Then we all become animals so to speak, while morality, norms and education are vehemently pushed aside.
I know, I quote a lot of movies in my posts. However, aside from watching them for a living, many movies simply inspire me.
Speaking of which, my inspiration for writing, the momentum for my thoughts, that what gets my creative juices flowing is ultimately only one thing, the reader. You.
Admittedly, I too dream of an avid readership as that of Kevin Sites. People continuing the thoughts they had read about, comments that in turn prompt an entirely new debate.
I seek to make people think, not necessarily agreeing with me all the time, but exploring their own thoughts. And if in the end I have reached only one person, then this is all I need to know.

Beyond the question of justice - Munich

I finally finished my last touches on "Munich" late last night. By far one of my most compelling assignments. I was repeatedly virtually sucked into the movie and had a hard time pausing to do the required work.
In my eyes Spielberg did an amazing job of portraying the dynamics of violence and retaliation beyond the sheer black and white concept of right or wrong. As the story unfolds, the viewer feels almost torn between the sides, the lines seem to blur and the question of justice cannot be answered in simple terms anymore.
Whether an action is justified or not will always depend on the viewer's perspective; everyone always justifies their doing, whether someone else will see the just cause as well, is of course debateable.
Another interesting detail, we find in the progressing changes of the human mind, or in this case the protagonists of the movie. Transgressing stages from fear and respect before human lives, beyond ethnicity and political denomination, to automated actions, deprived of humanity for the sheer purpose of meeting an unquestioned objective.
However, in the course of the events our heros experience a gradual transformation, beginning to realize the endless circle they are suddenly trapped in, turning from the hunters into targets themselves.
An interesting quote at the end of the movie mirrors the change within our main protagonist. He questions the accomplishments of the mission, pointing out that each man that they had killed had been replaced by worse. He now sees that there is no end to this and his victory comes with a bitter aftertaste.
Bloodshed and killing can hardly ever be seen objectively from one angle only, there will always be someone on each side strongly believing in their subjectively valid arguments. Who is to decide which ones merit more justification? The director's empathic attempt of transporting this message across through emotions and skilled cinematography becomes even more impressive to me when one considers his own, personal ethnic and historic background.
Nameless violence that we follow day in day out on the news is given here a human face. In subtle scenes, such as the little Palestinian girl playing the piano and smiling innocently at her father's future assasin, or Avner's, the main protagonist's little baby girl uttering her first words into his ear over the phone. The little girl, his flesh and blood, that he has not held anymore since the day she was born. The dichotomy of giving and taking life.
Few movies venture to take a deeper look beyond the obvious, beyond right or wrong, just or unjust, and simply portray the human being in categories instead of as a whole, with his downfalls, weaknesses, sensitivity, compassion, but also his capacity to hurt, or even take lives...but this one certainly does.

Why men are like TV production companies?

I had an interesting revelation recently over dinner with a good friend of mine. We are sitting at this Asian restaurant in downtown Vienna, going down the list from the IAEA ball, the battle of the sexes , differences between Northamerican and European men and we eventually boil it down to one common denominator. Not what you might have assumed at first thought, but rather...Television.
While I elaborate on the differences between men and women, he interrupts my soliloquy and explains the root of it all.
I am gripped, continue to listen attentively and see the puzzle pieces perfectly aligning in my head.
This is it? You are right, it is simple, down to the point and refreshingly true.
He tells me that men are basically like a TV production company and there are two kinds or often they embody both types in one edition.
It is basically like this, as a guy you manufacture countless TV sets, then you have the choice and you will either seek the Walmart or the small mom-and-pop shop distribution.
Some men will prefer one over the other, but we also arrive at the conclusion that most will do business both ways, or at least they like to entertain the idea.
While option A is quick and efficient, you walk in and out, and the numbers soar, option B requires more work, ongoing customer relations and personal service options.
Obviously both venues have advantages and disadvantages, and once again the eternal debate of quantity over quality surfaces (while I still believe one does not necessarily exclude the other).
So in his eyes men are the manufacturer trying to find the subjectively most effective distribution venue for their produced goods.
While he elaborately lays out the details of his theory in front of me, my mind begins to fill in the blanks, to retrace and adjust. And wham, all of a sudden it is like being transported to this nirwana-like state of complete awareness. Something I always intuitively felt is pointed out in an almost equational manner, very simple and at the core of the subject matter.
Apparently it is just as simple as that, it is all about meeting the numbers, a quick, effective, cheap labor oriented approach when it comes to chasing the Other, to name it in Beauvoiresque terms, or alternatively, making a growth oriented investment involving careful research, planning and execution, or the small-scale shop around the corner.
Somenone has recently supported this hypothesis, explaing his competing tendencies to ship as many goods as possible or invest in customer relations, labeling me as the exclusive mom-and-pop-shop around the corner. While feeling flattered on the one hand I can't avoid asking myself the inevitable question... The tailor made suit will encourage many appreciative looks, and most people will consider it an investment for years, yet most people will still opt for the massproduced version from the rack...not as comfortable and well fitting, not as flashy, less durable, but good enough at a quick first look. While Walmart's spread is inexorably continued, a shimmer of hope remains that good taste and style will never go out of fashion...

The emperor

The following story is not my own invention, but it is a nice tale that I read in a Zen book my friend Cort brought along one day. I am not sure what prompted him to, but he told me I have to promise to read the book, at least a few pages per day.... I was curious and I did, and I am happy he gave it to me back then, as especially the following story has helped me along the way. It does not impart any secret wisdom, just some very basic and simple life rules that are almost understood and we yet forget to follow... But we have friends who happen to remind us along the way.

An emperor embarks on his search for three essential answers.
What is the right time for each thing to be done? Who is the most important person at any given time? What is the most important thing at all times?
He sets out to visit a hermit in the woods. He finally meets the wise man and poses the above questions, but the man remains silent and continues to pursue his task, namely digging a hole in the ground.
Eventually, the emperor feels pity with the old man and decides to give him a hand and takes over.
Suddenly, a man shows up, bleeding profusely from a wound.
The emperor attends to his wound, as the man collapses before him. Once he regains onsciousness, he is filled with gratitude and asks for forgiveness, for he is an enemy of the emperor who had come to kill him on his way back home from his quest in the woods. But since the emperor had failed to show up, he had started to walk back and was met by the emperor's guards who recognized him and inflicted this wound upon him.
The emperor is happy to be still alive, and reconciles with his former enemy.
Later, he asks the hermit again about the answers and the man replies.
"But you have gotten the answers long ago...First, the most important task was helping me digging that hole, as that saved your life. Had you returned back home earlier, you would have been met and stabbed by your enemy. In that instance I was the most important person and the pursuit was to help me.
Later, when you attended to the wound of the injured man, that was your most important task, as otherwise he would have died and you would have never had a chance to reconcile with your former enemy. Back then, he was the most important person and the pursuit was helping him.
Therefore, the most important time for anything is the present moment, because that is the only time we have dominion over. The most important person is the one you are with, as you never know if you will have another chance to be with them again. And the most important aim is to help others, as that is the pursuit of life."

Thought of a Worm

I am the thought of a leaf that separates from the stem and falls to the ground. The worm eats the leaf and I am the thought of a worm, the raven eats the worm and I am the thought of a raven. The fox eats the raven and I become the thought of a fox. The fox is killed and made into a fur coat and I become a fur coat. The lady is wearing the fur coat and passionately bites her husband full of gratitude over the fur coat. I am the thought of the lady who has bitten her husband. I am the remnants of the husband who had been bitten out of passion by his wife and who is buried at the cemetery. And I am the thought of a worm who is eating the ashes of the husband who had died being bitten by his wife out of gratitude over her fur coat.
This is not the exact wording, but Enrique Moya's poem that we listened to last night unfolds along those lines.
An interesting detail was the trilingual rendition of the same poem in Spanish, English and German. By three different people, in three different languages and with three different personalities. It made for an interesting comparison, the dramatic interpretation of the Viennese side by side with the somewhat somber and serious expression of the Venezuelan poet. The very same thing seen through the eyes of another is endowed with new meaning.
I am impressed, by this simple chain of thoughts concocted to the endless circle of thoughts and life.
We are born, we live and we die, and in a way we are reborn, philosophical and religious notions aside, just based on the simple biological fact that everything is part of nature's endless circle of life.
This thought becomes even more interesting considering cultural phenomena of modern times that emphasize the individuality of the human being. We are not considered as much in the grand scheme of things anymore, but we are supposed to step out of the crowd. Realize our own potential, we are told that it is up to us to make a difference. Everything turns toward the ego. And yet we live side by side, we interact, even in the act of avoiding interaction and one impacts the other. Are we really that different? Do we make the difference in our own separate existence?
However much the importance of individuality and subjective achievement is pinpointed, aren't we in the end still part of the grand circle? The worm's thought that becomes the bird....

Lucky Bamboo

I have always loved the sound of the bamboo grove when the wind brushes through the leaves, creating this unique tune that I find incredibly soothing.
I would often go to the nearby botanical park to see the bamboo plants and listen to their magical whisper.
Bamboo has been highly valued by various cultures for cultural, practial and religious purposes. It is especially popular in most Asian countries.
Appreciated for its strength, lightness and durability it serves as excellent construction material used to manufacture furniture, bridges, scaffoldings or houses.
Many Asian cultures believe that humanity first emerged from a bamboo stem. A popular gift in China, it is believed to bring good fortune and is also a symbol for longevity.

While I type this little encylopedic information, I am looking at the miniture bamboo in front of me. It is not in any way related to the bamboo species that yield scaffoldings or bridges and unfortunately, it does not produce the soothing sound of leaves brushing against each other. It was given to me for good fortune and has flourished ever since.
I too have given a "lucky bamboo" to someone recently. I am not sure if it will bring good fortune to the bearer and recipient, but it seemed a very special plant at the time. It still makes me smile when I think back and remember how I bought it. It was a spontaneous gift, I had not planned on giving it and it just sort of came to me when I saw it in the store. I asked the lucky recipient, who was with me at the time to choose one of the bamboo plants in front of him, but he told me to select the fortune bringer instead.
Unknowingly, I ended up choosing the very same bamboo that he had picked out of maybe 30 other plants just moments before without me observing it.
It may be just coincidence... or still good fortune after all?

People in Transit

I have always been magnetically drawn to airports; something about the atmosphere makes me still get goose bumps however many times I pass through. They are almost like a miniature globe, uniting people from all continents on relatively small space.
Some faces reflect excitement, nervosity even, I am guessing, also judging by the amount of the baggage, that this person in front of me hasn't travelled extensively yet. People who travel for the first time, or haven't traveled much seem to believe comfort can only be found at home, and thus make the impression of wanting to transport the sum of their belongings to their vacation destination. Those who have given in to the restless urge long ago know better though, if you want to avoid being treated like a tourist, the first step is to not stick out as one. Excess baggage will not only slow you down and turn the trip more into a working holiday than recreation, but it will also guarantee for looks from all directions. Keeping a watchful eye on your smorgasbord could be a good idea.

According to theories in urban and spatial planning, airports are the cities of the future. Spaces were people work, and even live, as demonstrated by Victor aka Tom Hanks in The Terminal, a movie based on a true story, featuring a visitor from Eastern Europe who is stranded at the JFK airport after war breaks out in his homeland and he is denied entry to the USA.
Aside from the tourism industry airports serve as a major factor in economy as a whole, and Hans Ibeling points out in Supermodernism how the urban core is shifting towards such alternative architectural spaces. The airport begins to funtion as a city of its own, incorporating vital functions of work, play and social interactions and networks.
Just like planners and architects have endowed these places with meaning beyond their function as a  transportation hub, I have always been intrigued by the element of transit and movement.
Millions of passangers, countless stories and recollections of their lives meet at some random point, maybe for the first and last time in their lives. I often wonder about the stories they could tell and find encounters at airports or on airplanes very interesting.

....such as this guy I met on a flight from Miami to Frankfurt and he told me his entire life's story of how his ex-wife was in Germany, while he was living and working in Florida. He only saw his daughter, who was 10 at the time, maybe once a year.
On another occasion I met this young Swiss guy who was heading to New Zealand, for the very first time in his life, he had no real concept of where he was going, other than to live there for a year as part of a work exchange program. Somehow I rarely happen to sit next to the average tourist who leaves for 3-4 weeks, heading towards packade deal destinations they had booked months ahead.
I had a nice experience on my last flight to Las Vegas as well, the air con was relentlessly killing every speck of warmth before it even came about, and I was cold. We had just taken off and I didn't see any of the flight attendants around to ask them for a blanket.
Suddenly this guy accross the aile reaches over holding a blanket in his hand that he wanted to hand to me. I felt almost as if he had read my thoughts because I had not yet made any seeming attempt to find a blanket or ask for one.
It was a small, tiny gesture, but significant enough for me to remember months later.
However fleeting such encounters may seem, and in their nature they truly are, sometimes they continue to become part of our memory and will suddenly be remembered, just like that, without a warning, without an aim or purpose.

A tale about Love

We are sitting at this cafe in Vienna where we met for brunch, the lady who was hired to musically accentuate the scene renders her 10th repetition of the same tune. Not purposely, as she had arrived here with a repertoir of various songs, but we can't help thinking that they all melt into the same set of keys. Eventually we decide to part, sometimes it is just better to not prolong your own misery.

Next pit stop, a cafe in the first, and I am introduced to Parisian coffee. This gigantic mug in front of me resembles more of a soup bowl than anything else and however much I struggle with its content, the liquid just does not seem to disappear. About an hour later I give up and we move on to see Prime.
A movie about love against the background of age difference, and the problems unfold once we find out that our protagonist's young lover is at the same time her therapist's son.
One line in the movie goes like, "Love is not enough, a relationship requires work."
While I do agree with that, I also have to object and say it is a very essential ingredient. If work outweighs love, the benefit of the liasion becomes questionable.
No one is perfect and in the end perfection lies in loving the imperfection of the other. Yet most people don't seem to live fulfilling relationship, they settle for familiarity, comfort and habit. Those qualities are not necessarily unimportant but they do not replace love, which is probably why those relationships never seem complete.
It is hard to break habits, good or bad.
A long time ago I read this book called The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. He set out to illustrate the difference between owning and having in love, and in his eyes most modern relationships are rather based on the former where the other is owned and dominated, whereas unconditional love can only come about if it is nurtured by freedom. His notion seems a tad too idealized to me, but I do think he has some valid points. Whereas people are often loved because of a collection of traits and aspects, real love for me encompasse the person as a whole. While the former is rigid and hardly leaves room for change, the latter allows people to grow and develop further.
Love should not require the other to be shaped and formed to fit our needs and desires. Many times we do try and partialy succeed, but often the outcome is less satisfying than initially expected. Then also the question is, who did we fall in love with to begin with, the actual person or our own ideal that we projected onto them?

I also don't think the feeling of loss felt after the absence of a person is love. Past memories are often idealized and especially past relationships. Instead of loving what really was we tend to love what we think or wish that it was, thus chasing a never attained or attainable ideal. Love, on the other hand, is omnipresent, it just simply is.
I have lived many ups and downs in my life, probably because I refuse to settle and in a sense I may be an idealist. Certainly a recipe for disappointment, on the other hand at the end of the day I can say I have lived.
While most relationships are familiarty versus love I do believe the latter exists. I have not seen many living examples but a few I have.
I think what is important in the end, is that we are fully one with what we choose, our actions, who we are, our goals and the person we are with.

United Colors?

Recently I had this conversation with a friend about the meaning of skin color and your whereabouts. He, a well educated, smart kid, scored a UN gig right upon graduation and just recently moved to Vienna for work. I asked him a couple of days ago how Vienna was treating him, and this triggered an emotional recollection of his latest adventures in the city that had given him a very mixed welcome. He is African American and even though people with darker skin color have become more and more an every day phenomenon, somehow the European mind has not quite yet warmed to the extra dosage of melanin.
He complained particularly about three incidents that had happened to him ever since he set foot on the old continent, subsequently moving to the city with the sound of never ceasing music eternalized by white composers centuries ago.
The most recent reminder of the country's past that has long been wiped out in theory and history, while sadly sometimes still lingering in people's minds had confronted him only a few days ago. He was out with friends in one of the districts with the largest percentage of immigrants alongside working-class natives. They went to some Irish pub whose name he had not revealed to me and were refused to be served. Supposedly they would only serve regulars there. What a bunch of bullshit! My friend did not feel the matter worth arguing and they moved on...on two more occasions he had encountered similar reactions when trying to enter a dance club.
He also told me about a friend of his, who was also in Vienna for work, working for the US State Department and also of African American descent. The guy had told him about his kid who was shunned by the other kids in school. Sadly, your lessons in life are often learned early on.

I met Jeff several months ago on the train heading to visit my parents for the weekend. I was reading The New Yorker and he addressed me in English where I had bought it because he was having a hard time to find English magazines in town. I pointed him to a couple of places and we began to chat a little. He told me that he had just recently moved here from Liberia and was trying to make things work.
Before I got off I gave him my copy of the magazine that I had finished reading and apologised for one of the pages that were torn. He was really happy and we exchanged email addresses.
I haven't seen Jeff ever since but we have emailed back and forth a few times. He has told me about his family. How his father had died back in 1996 during the war in Liberia, his mother and siblings were also forced to leave the country and he himself had escaped to Europe in hope of a better life.
It has been hard for him, people were not always welcoming, but in the meantime he has managed to find work in an African art shop and found a small apartment in Vienna.

Another friend had told me about this flight attendant he had met once on a flight. Apparently a very nice and charming lady and she told him this heartbreaking story, of how she had been engaged to a guy that she had dated for 11 years and just recently ended the engagement. They too were a mixed couple, she was African American, and somehow the gap to his side of the family could never be fully bridged. Eventually she gave up hope and decided to move on.

Stories like the ones above make sad, sad because you realize people are not being blamed for wrongdoing but for the essence of who they are. Does this extra portion of melanin make such a difference in people's minds? Apparently it still does. State legislation does guarantee for equal opportunity and does not make a difference in people's complexion, in theory, in practise there is still a long way to go.

... I would nonetheless like to conclude with a positive counter example, simply to point out the other side and a shimmer of hope.
I had once started attending a legal anthropology class and my teacher was one of the most remarkable people I have ever met in my life. Equipped with two PhDs in law and anthropology he was also an amateur DJ, promoting Reggea, Ragga, and all related tunes. He was conveying the meaning of legal anthropology by playing Reggea songs and movie footage in class and often took a small group of students on one of his field trips to the African continent. He is the blackest white person I have ever met and a true inspiration. He could probably activate even the last dozing idiot in class.
I too felt inspired and motivated and walked out of my first class with a string of new ideas. I emailed him the same day, talked about some of my thoughts and concerns regarding research and ethics etc. He responded soon after and thanked me for my input and asked for my permission to read out passages of my email in class without mentioning the author's name. I agreed and later even forgot that I had done so. Next time I was sitting in class, unaware and unprepared he mentioned a student who had emailed him and that he would like to conclude the class by reading her email out loud. Even though he never mentioned my name I felt as if everyone of those 200 people sitting in class knew that those were my words. I felt a little uneasy but was truly impressed that he dedicated a good portion of his class to discuss my ideas. This is how our brief exchange started. After class I responded to his input by email and we emailed back and forth a few more times before it fizzled out.
Nonetheless, I would like to acknowledge him at this point, he has unknowingly inspired me.

The beginnings

I remember as a kid I had wanted to become a writer, the first book I ever scribbled on was the Little Prince; this must have sealed the deal as it has accompanied me ever since, popping up in various shapes, forms and situations. My most recent copy is one that I cherish probably just as much as the one whose pages bear my illegible initals. It was given to me several months ago by a dear friend who specially illustrated the book with hidden drawings I would discover as I read. I don't think I had ever mentioned to him how I had 'illustrated' my very first copy too, not in such an elaborate way, but twenty some years later it was almost like a déjà vu...
Now, I never finished any book I had begun writing, I continued scribbeling along the way, but I never seemed to follow through to the end. Now without looking for a deeper psychological meaning, I could also argue the end is open to the eye of the beholder or in this case the reader, but this is probably more of a lame excuse for something I simply can't or ignore to name.
Later, after years and pages had been filled with the joys and pains of growing up I decided to try the serious, 'practical' route, I enrolled in journalism and anthropology, hoping to gain a broader world perspective and give those a voice who had remained unheard...yea, I never lost my idealism, but somehow, I again did not follow through and my brief career as a reporter yielded exactly one analysis of those muddy political waters Austria was drowning in back at the time (not that much has changed, but it has been legitimized and people simply got used to the status quo).
Somehow, I still ended up typing for a living, admittedly, those of you who have watched me, know I am not a sophisticated typer but those few fingers applied in the process make up in speed what they lose in quantity. I am not unhappy with the outcome, I do love what I do and many times feel like my job is really fun...but I write for others, those are not my thoughts.
So back to the roots and back to 'ego' who is aiming to perpetuate erratic thoughts, random ideas or simply pointless chatter and thus ventures into the blogging sphere; why write a book if by the time you finish people will just read the synopsis online? So here we go....