The Goroka Show

This week I helped a couple book flights to Goroka to visit their daughter. They had timed their visit to take in the annual Goroka festival. The destination is so far off our radar that I had to get IT to add the Goroka Airport code (GKA) to our CRM in order to do my invoice! Needless to say, I was intrigued. Here's what I learned...

The Goroka Show is a well-known tribal gathering and cultural event in Papua New Guinea. It is a Sing-sing held every year close to the country's Independence Day (16 September) in the town of Goroka, the capital of the Eastern Highlands Province.

About 100 tribes arrive to show their music, dance and culture. The festival started in the mid-1950s as an initiative of Australian Kiaps. In recent years it has become a major attraction for both national and international tourists and remains the largest cultural event in Papua New Guinea despite similar shows now being organised in Mount Hagen and other cities around the country.

Creative Commons images Drew Douglas, kabl1992 on Flickr

Resources
Goroka Show website
Goroka Show - 1957 and 1958 (photos)

Review: The Girl from Krakow

The Girl from Krakow by Alex Rosenberg
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I just finished this book, listening on Audible, and can definitely recommend it.

Only towards the end of the book I started wondering about the book's title, because she wasn't actually from Krakow. Poland, yes, but not Krakow. Thanks to Alex Rosenberg's unexpected storyline, I was satisfied to understand by the end.

What an engaging story, and a character so well developed, I was sure she was real. World War II from the perspective of a Jewish woman who survived, in the open, in a disguise of her own creation, was remarkable. An interesting book on so many levels, with stories from Barcelona to Moscow built in. The loves and losses of Rita were brought to life through Michael Page's excellent narration.

Alex Rosenberg - the author's website

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BIG list of museum podcasts

I stumbled across a great blog post the other day, essentially a collection of podcasts by museums around the globe. Whether you're preparing to visit a particular museum, are a podcast-addict or just live a curious life, Hannah Hethmon's hard work collecting all these podcasts, is sure to please.

Hannah Hethmon's BIG list of museum podcasts

Every Museum Podcast in One Big List

My own podcast about Icelandic museums, Museums in Strange Places, has given me the chance to see “behind-the-curtain” in so many amazing museums, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that museums are leaving so many of their most human and compelling stories untold. Since it’s through podcasting that I’ve discovered these stories, I started to wonder how museums around the world were using podcasting to have a more intimate platform for telling stories and engaging their audience. To that end, I scoured all the podcasting platforms and reached out to the Twitterverse and Facebook groups to compile the most complete list of podcasts by museums on the internet. 

How the List is Organized (and Who I Left Off)  

I’ve divided the podcasts I’ve found into history museums, science and natural history museum, art museums, and a category for mixed-interest and other museums that don’t fit in the previous groups... [continue reading Every Museum Podcast in One Big List].

Review: The Girl on the Train

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Girl on the Train was the first Audible book that I was left feeling that I probably wouldn't have enjoyed as much by physically reading it.

I found the voices of the characters (nice job by the 3 narrators) carried me along, each drawing me into their inner world, and their lens on the story. As it was revealed, anyways. Just like if you were thinking about your day, you'd leave obvious stuff out, because it just IS, the unsaid hung around, waiting to be revealed. Then, ah, the penny would drop... that's what happened there.. and another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

I admit to being more intrigued at the start, when so much was unclear, than later as things became more grisly, but overall, a good story.

A good listen. I'll be on the lookout for Paula Hawkins' other books. Skillful narration by Clare Corbett, Louise Brealey, India Fisher.

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Sickle-cell anaemia

I knew Floyd had a medical condition that, despite his appearance of robust health, could and would see him land in the hospital for very long stretches. I recall that he needed to carry an epi-pen-like device, and also that he did not seem worried at all. I remember asking what I (as a co-worker) needed to know, and he would smile, chuckle and tell me not to worry. I understood this to be a philosophy of living fearlessly in the moment, as opposed to recklessness. I also remember him once telling me that his treating hospital said he had the thickest medical file of all patients they treated. So as shocking as his death was, I knew there were underlying issues.

I have been trying to remember what that was, and found the answer in a comment in FB RIP's: sickle-cell anaemia.

Sickle-cell disease (SCD) is a group of blood disorders typically inherited from a person's parents. The most common type is known as sickle-cell anaemia (SCA). It results in an abnormality in the oxygen-carrying protein haemoglobin (haemoglobin S) found in red blood cells. This leads to a rigid, sickle-like shape under certain circumstances. Problems in sickle cell disease typically begin around 5 to 6 months of age. A number of health problems may develop, such as attacks of pain ("sickle-cell crisis"), anemia, swelling in the hands and feet, bacterial infections, and stroke. Long term pain may develop as people get older. The average life expectancy in the developed world is 40 to 60 years... [continue reading on Wikipedia].

Reflections on the passing of Floyd (RIP)

I find myself trying to get a little perspective today. It has been a roller coaster of emotion these past few days. Tremendous grief and shock to learn if Floyd's passing. How is it that the warmest, kindest, most positive man with the BIGGEST HEART has a heart attack? And how is it possible that this vibrant, strong and vivacious man relied on life support to stay alive? It is hard to imagine him just going quietly when his family made thr difficult decision to take him off life support... How did that huge, generous heart cease to pulse? He touched sooooo many people. Hearts were breaking everywhere.

The only way I can make sense of it is to believe that Floyd was put on this earth to shine his bright smile, spirit and optimism to everyone he met, so that they would know it is possible to live like he modelled.

In between episodes of weeping, I have been inspired in so many ways.

Floyd passed on my birthday eve, at the end of a day when I had started feeling blue and moping about turning 59. Well, that didn't last long. I am devastated that someone as young and full of life as Floyd could be gone so fast. It's true, the good do die young.

My perspective flipped to being thrilled to turn 59. Holy shit, look how far I made it!!

It doesn't feel surface, it feels deep. Rather than weaken me and discourage me, I feel strengthened, with a new resolve.

Today I'm tired, looking around for a little of that passion, but its not so far away...

RIP Floyd ~ I feel so fortunate that you touched my life. I love you buddy.

UPDATE (May 2020): I recently discovered that Floyd's website is no longer active. As the archives of his works are slowly disappearing, I scoured the net to find what I could, which I have posted below.

Also:
http://www.floydsinclair.ca/ - Floyd's art
Black Vancouverites respond to question 'Where are you from?'
Floyd Sinclair exhibit at Gallery 1515

PS. My later blog post about sickle-cell anaemia

List

My list... of the things I have experienced in the last 2 months:
2 dental surgeries
Weathered a financial crisis
Engaged in a battle in which I acted disgracefully
Was forgiven
Lost a gig
Gained a gig
Donned a dress I bought in Paris 8 years ago
Managed to get someone who hasn't spoken to me in 4-5 years to speak to me
Lost a friend, it shocked me to the core
Had a birthday

Review: Fire and Fury

Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House by Michael Wolff
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Bizarre beyond words....


Glimpsing behind the veil of the Trump Whitehouse was a temptation I couldn't resist. I was aghast, I rolled my eyes, I gasped, and I laughed, but I did not cry. But if it was my country, I probably would have. Absolutely bizarre.

I now know more about The Donald than I ever wanted, or is good for my psyche. Knowing what has been going on in the inner circle at the helm of USA government is both entertaining and frightening. More of the latter.

The book itself was good, but you could tell it had been rushed into print (audio): rambling, repetitive in parts, jumping around... but it would mean less if it was honed for another month or two.

The narrator was ok, but in the last 1/4 of the book I keep falling asleep. Kind of strange in a riveting tale. I must say, it was equally bizarre to be listening at the same time as the outfall about the book was going on.

Interesting enough for political junkies and average folk.

• Interesting... fake news or real? Article claiming Obama will narrate an audio version


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You just might find me training you...

Yeah, it's true. 

If you've ever thought of turning your love of travel into a flexible career where you are your own boss, join us to learn more (this is the team I am part of):

Vacation Consultant Information Session 

Expedia CruiseShipCenters Sidney

Wednesday, January 17, 2018 - 6:00-7:00 PM PST

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/join-our-team-information-session-sidney-tickets-41725023669

Seeking clarity

I am seeking clarity.

In a sense, nothing new in that. But I really am.

So many balls in the air, so many mixed emotions and issues, I have been living in the blur. But no more. I need to break things down. Put each thing in it's own tidy little corner. Look at them individually. I need to look at them in relationship to each other too, of course, but first, I need to divide and conquer.

I was inspired yesterday by someone I respect tremendously, posting the reality of their life in the last year. It was an 'oh wow' moment. We have no idea what people are going through.

What struck me most was how brutally honestly he described what depression does to you, and the dance between depression and grief.

I experience both. It's only recently that I came to realize that depression is present in my life again. I am well aware that grief is something I am living with, though I was 'surprised' to realize that on New Year's Eve it had only been 3 years since I lost my mom. So recent. Yet it feels like I've been living with it so long.

What struck me yesterday, after reading his post, was that I hadn't been trying to separate them out at all. I'd just been living in an overwhelmed state, and doing my best to get through it.

Or not doing my best.

But I was doing what I could.

Now, a bit of clarity, a sliver of light bringing things into focus, just a bit.

It's not just depression and grief, of course, why would things be that simple? It the continual adjustment to no longer living alone, being overwhelmed at work, losing my second source of income, my own personal issues intruding on my interactions with others, to the point of acting out (badly) and living with the fallout. Through in being beyond broke, and falling back into debt, and feeling grounded (aren't I supposed to be travelling the globe, without a care in the world?). It's noticing that I haven't really landed "here", not putting down roots, even not building relationships, as I haven't acknowledged myself, where I am. It's living in a sea of boxes, as I come up on 2 years in my apartment. It's making a stupid financial mistake and recovering from it by the skin of my teeth (try paying your bills from your bank account after your rent has come out... only to realize that it hadn't come out yet, and scrambling down to the $10 to cover the shortfall in the moment... now fixed, but geez, I've never done something like that).

I have signs all around me that I'm a mess. But I've been trudging through it, what, thinking it would change?

So, the post I read just gave me a fresh perspective on the difference between depression and grief, how they get intertwined, and what we need to do to slay each dragon. Hard go slay two dragons at once, unless you're superman, or superwoman... and heck, they are my dragons. I'd rather understand than slay. They calm down and lose their power when you look in their eyes, question them, and listen, and repeat.

I have had a few other themes relating to clarity going on this past week, as well as sources of inspiration to help shift my focus.

More to come...

Meaningless? No.

Mom and B in the Christmas spirit

People around me think that because I don't "celebrate" Christmas that it is meaningless to me. Not so. How could it be?

Growing up, like most kids, I loved Christmas. No religious context, but trees, gifts, stockings (I can still picture mine exactly), turkey, snow, skating in the backyard, and in later years, the arrival home of siblings to visit. At this moment, I am remembering Carol surprising us by coming home unannounced from Montreal, and me not recognizing her (fancy makeup, wig, white go-go boots...).

As a young adult, Christmas remained one of highlights of my year. Tree in my apartment. Xmas music. Walking to enjoy the lights. And I always came (went?) home, an important family time. 

Aside of the disastrous boyfriend breakup year, in which I agreed to hide my pain, there weren't many low points. The otherwise very nice bf I had been living with for a couple of years confessed that he had fallen in love with a co-worker, but could I please say nothing, as he didn't want my parents to think ill of him over the holidays. We still didn't know what we were going to do, so I naively agreed (I was, what, 22? 23? so young...). I left for the holidays while he spent a "trial" weekend with her (!). When he arrived at my parents house a few days later he told me, yup, that was it, they were in love, and I would need to move out. I can still see a picture of me, trying to put on a brave face, saying nothing, while my heart was breaking. In the end, they got married, had kids, and I moved on to eventually figure out who I was (and it wasn't the cookie baking, pork chop making homemaker I had been playing at). 

In the years that followed, perhaps in part to compensate, I became obsessive about Christmas, to the amusement (?) of my friends and co-workers, and to the point of becoming intolerable to my family. Totally overboard. If anyone who knew me then could see me now, they probably wouldn't believe it. 

By the time I faced issues that had been haunting me, and I went into therapy, the only way I could cope, and find my way through the mess, was to cut myself off from my family. No more trips home. I can't even remember when I stopped gift-giving and receiving. Maybe it was that first year, or later, but I found my way free by announcing to family that I was no longer "doing" Christmas, don't send me gifts, and I would give money to charity . Confused and baffled everyone, but I was in survival mode. I've kept that charity Christmas ritual to this day though. 

To say Christmas was a dark period for me would be an understatement. I hated the whole season, and Christmas Day was particularly painful. It was like I broke my own heart, but it was the only way I could break free, get in touch with issues, find my way through them, and begin to heal. In the process, I hurt family members who had nothing to do with the underlying issues at play. It's only recently that I've been acknowledging that.

That first Christmas on my own, I remember walking around the Stanley Park seawall ~ I still thought I should do something to mark the day ~ and being so sad and alone, walking amongst families at their happiest time of the year. Oops. That didn't become a ritual. 

I hated Christmas so much, and all the pain it evoked in me, that I would start to get tense by the time fall came around. Instead of enjoying autumn, I could feel the gloom setting in, dreading the next 4 months. Black. Dark. Painful. Unavoidable. Holding on until the whole damn season was over. Boxing Day was like freedom day for me, I'd made it through another year, and wouldn't feel the world pressing in on me. I could breathe.

My coping mechanisms changed over the years, for the most part settling on Hawaii as a better place to be, though I still had to cope with trees, carols and grocery stores that closed. The sun helped me too, as I eventually discovered I had S.A.D. and benefitted from the dose of sun. 

I can't remember when Christmas stopping being painful, or at least tolerable. But this non-celebration of the season just became the fabric of my life. I still didn't like trees, carols, lights and Merry Christmas wishes, but I tolerated them. At this point I think I fooled myself into thinking that Christmas was meaningless to me, but of course that wasn't so. 

The dynamic began to shift for me when Patti came to Greece in 2009 and we spent he month together, in Athens and Rhodes. Very gently, things started to become ok, such as the touches of Christmas that surrounded us. The lights were kind of pretty, and I enjoyed learning about how the local in Greece celebrated. And as it was still a special time for my sister, I experimented with breaking my own rules, suggesting that a small gift or two would be ok, and did we have any socks we could put to use? In the end, we sang, drank ouzo, picked up a few Greek trinkets, and I made Christmas dinner (!), though it was pasta. Nothing bad happened, and my heart started to melt a little. Imagine that. 

The timing was fortuitous, as it was in 2010 that I found myself living with mom, and creating Christmas for her. She didn't really "do" Christmas anymore, at least no tree, but a kind neighbour came every year to put up lights on the house for her. I learned her rituals, of inviting him and  his children in for hot chocolate when the lights were hung. This same family shovelled her snow and took the lights down again, so more hot chocolate. And so it came that I was actively involved the fabric of her life, including how she marked all the seasons.

At this point, mom's dementia meant she really didn't remember those difficult years (a blessing), so she took in the love and joy of her family, and enjoyed the little things. Her favourites were Christmas music (oh, how she loved music!), and all the lights. Mostly my sister made the season, and I played along, and it became easy to just be in the moment, and enjoy it all with her, and enjoy her enjoyment. Suddenly, it wasn't about me anymore, and I found myself listening to Christmas carols and enjoying the lights. I'd spent so many years pushing Christmas away, that I was surprised to find I didn't hate it anymore. Imagine that!

Eventually, as she slipped further away, she retained a childlike delight in carols, bells, lights and treats. Mom was so sweet in her later years, it was a joy to sing with her. Oh, what pangs of sadness it brings me in this moment to remember... I miss her so much. I cry. And I am reminded how much grieving I still have to do.

But, for today, I embrace mom's joy and love. I sing the way we would greet each on Christmas mornings, the same as we always had, the love stringing together the moments that matter. 

Today, I reflect, try to enjoy memories that don't make me cry, or not too much, appreciate my blessings, and avail myself of a few treats. I feel joy for those with their families, and compassion for those who are without. I am happy for the kids who must be delighted to ind snow when they awoke. 

I am especially appreciative of the love of both my brother and sister. There are just three of us now, and I cherish them. My brother still doesn't know what to make of my solitude at this time of year, as he's the opposite, but he puts up with his Scroogy sister and we'll connect at some point. There are times even I am tired of my aloofness, and how it must come off to my extended family, but this is me at the moment.

It's at times like this, when my sister is home with her daughter, that I get a bit of time to reflect and relax. And, for today, aside of a little writing to start my day, no heavy thinking. Just nuggets of happy memories, as I listen to Christmas music on CBC, and perhaps the crackle of the Shaw fireplace, putter in my home, eat a few treats, and pause. Maybe a Christmas movie or two, some drawing, a toast or two, a snooze or two, and just being. 

Merry Christmas to you.

Prevent heartless "eviction" at Woodwynn Farms

To:

Premier John Horgan: premier@gov.bc.ca

Lana Popham, Min. of Agriculture: AGR.Minister@gov.bc.ca

Judy Darcy, Min. Mental Health & Addictions: MH.Minister@gov.bc.ca

Selina Robinson, Min. Municipal Affairs & Housing: selina.robinson.MLA@leg.bc.ca

Carole James, Min. Finance: Carole.James.MLA@leg.bc.ca

Andrew Weaver, Leader, BC Green Party: andrew.weaver.mla@leg.bc.ca

Rich Coleman, Interim Leader, BC Liberal Party: rich.coleman.mla@leg.bc.ca

Adam Olsen, MLA: adam.olsen.mla@leg.bc.ca

Central Saanich Mayor Council: municipalhall@csaanich.ca

cc richardl@woodwynnfarms.org

Please support Woodwynn Farms in everything they are trying to do.

Woodwynn Farms is heroically trying to provide a healing environment for people recovering from addiction and helping them get back on their feet. The opportunity provided - to work and contribute productively on the farm - is golden. Yet they are thwarted at every turn.

The lack of services to support people recovering from addiction is a huge problem in BC, at the same time there is a drug crisis and a housing shortage, is both shameful and tragic. The situation is appalling, and I expect better from all levels of government in BC.  

Without your support, the individuals recovering at Woodwynn Farms will slip through the cracks. Aside of miracles, it is very likely they will end up back on the street or dead. 

Woodwynn Farms is such a miracle.

Rather than try to find ways to shut them down ~ the latest by finding a loophole to "evict" residents from the roof over their heads ~ initiative should be enthusiastically supported. 

There are regulations to be considered? Get out your scissors and cut through the red tape. Ask yourselves what CAN be done, not what can't.

If the facilities are so risky, move mountains to fix the issue short term. 

Rent or buy a handfull of the RV's sitting idle for the winter. Poof, problem solved, at least for the short term. 

That's not reasonable? So BRAINSTORM until you can find another way to help. 

Collectively, you can make a difference if you want to. 

Respectfully,

Roberta Westwood

Saanichton

-----------

If you want to write your own message, you can grab the mail addresses here:

premier@gov.bc.ca; AGR.Minister@gov.bc.ca; MH.Minister@gov.bc.ca; 
selina.robinson.MLA@leg.bc.ca; Carole.James.MLA@leg.bc.ca; andrew.weaver.mla@leg.bc.ca; rich.coleman.mla@leg.bc.ca; adam.olsen.mla@leg.bc.ca; municipalhall@csaanich.ca; richardl@woodwynnfarms.org

Review: Bellevue Square

Bellevue Square by Michael Redhill
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Oh, what a story. I couldn't put it down (yes, I still use that expression for an audiobook!). Lots of twists and turns. What happened next was always a surprise that I couldn't have anticipated.

The premise, that you have a doppelgänger out there, is clever.

The setting, in Toronto, in the present (legalization of pot coming soon), draws you in.

No wonder it won the Giller Prize!

I look forward to reading more by Michael Redhill.

I liked Sarah Mennell's narration.

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Review: Chernobyl 01:23:40

Chernobyl 01:23:40: The Incredible True Story of the World's Worst Nuclear Disaster by Andrew Leatherbarrow
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Inside Chernobyl: what happened, and as it stands today.

I found this to be an interesting book, as I really hadn't learned the full story. I do remember when it happened, so that drew me to the story.

This book will be of interest to urban explorers, as it is written by one.

View all my reviews

Underground Montreal

Friends Luc Le Blanc and Daniel Caron spend much of their free time in Montreal exploring below ground in the city's Saint-Léonard Cavern. The cave is a registered historic site, with restricted access and guided tours.

The cavers had the surprise of their lives in October when they knocked through a limestone wall and uncovered the entrance to an immense second cave. Well, it wasn't a total surprise ~ they had been 'dowsing' , looking for water and a larger cave ~ but it was definitely an exciting discovery.

The Cavernicole Cave (or la caverne de Saint-Léonard) is a cave located underneath Pius XII Park (Parc Pie-XII) in the borough of Saint-Leonard in Montreal. It is a registered historic site with restricted access and guided tours.

A little history:

• The cave was first discovered in 1812.
• During the Patriote Rebellion of 1837, it served as an armoury, weapons cache, and hidey-hole for Les Patriotes.
• In 1968, the government deemed it a safety risk and closed off the cave.
• In 1978, the Quebec Speleology Society reopened the cave for study.
• It was subsequently declared a historic landmark, and guided tours were set up.

Until the recent discovery, the cave was thought to be relatively small, at 35 metres long and 8 metres deep. The second cave, hidden behind a limestone wall, is a massive 250 metres long.

This week, Luc and Daniel are getting their 15 minutes, as their discovery was disclosed to the general public.

Entrance to the public cave

Recent news highlights:
Spelunkers discover 15,000-year-old cavern in St-Léonard park
'This is a major discovery': Explorers find massive ice-age cavern beneath Montreal
Ice Age-Era Caves Discovered Under Montreal

Information on exploring the public cave:
Show Caves of Canada, Cavernicole de Saint-Léonard
The Secret Montreal Cave You Can Visit And Explore, Mtl Blog

Review: Into Thin Air

Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster by Jon Krakauer
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I am grateful that Jon Krakauer took the time to write this account of the 1996 tragedy on Everest. With his own recollections, and those of others, he has pieced together what happened.

Oxygen deprived and fogged by the confusion that killed others, he made mistakes that he hasn't forgiven himself for. Yet he takes responsibility. I hope he can make peace with it someday.

As a result, the book has a rather gloomy conclusion... but, then again, how could it be otherwise?

He tells the story as Jon experienced it, only revealing what transpired afterwards, as he put the pieces together. It made it compelling.

I might want to read it again, with a list of climbers and teams, and a map of the mountain.

The Audible version I listened to was narrated by Philip Franklin. Afterwards, I learned that there is a version narrated by Jon himself. I think I would have preferred that.

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Review: How to Get Run Over by a Truck

Inspiring, frank, a good listen

Katie's story is both breathtakingly frightening and inspiring. I have often wondered how I would go on living if I suffered a tragic accident, and my life as I knew it ended. Now I don't wonder so much. By sharing her journey ~ made better by hearing her speak it, in her own voice ~ I can see the ups and downs, the emotional rollercoaster, the path towards acceptance, and seizing life all over again. I also appreciated Katie's sense of humour as she shared her experience. Thanks for sharing Katie.

The chalkboard

“I draw a line down the middle of a chalkboard, sketching a male symbol on one side and a female symbol on the other. Then I ask just the men: What steps do you guys take, on a daily basis, to prevent yourselves from being sexually assaulted?

At first there is a kind of awkward silence as the men try to figure out if they've been asked a trick question. The silence gives way to a smattering of nervous laughter. Occasionally, a young a guy will raise his hand and say, 'I stay out of prison.' This is typically followed by another moment of laughter, before someone finally raises his hand and soberly states, 'Nothing. I don't think about it.'

Then I ask women the same question. What steps do you take on a daily basis to prevent yourselves from being sexually assaulted? Women throughout the audience immediately start raising their hands.

As the men sit in stunned silence, the women recount safety precautions they take as part of their daily routine.

Here are some of their answers: Hold my keys as a potential weapon. Look in the back seat of the car before getting in. Carry a cell phone. Don't go jogging at night. Lock all the windows when I sleep, even on hot summer nights. Be careful not to drink too much. Don't put my drink down and come back to it; make sure I see it being poured. Own a big dog. Carry Mace or pepper spray. Have an unlisted phone number. Have a man's voice on my answering machine. Park in well-lit areas. Don't use parking garages. Don't get on elevators with only one man, or with a group of men. Vary my route home from work. Watch what I wear. Don't use highway rest areas. Use a home alarm system. Don't wear headphones when jogging. Avoid forests or wooded areas, even in the daytime. Don't take a first-floor apartment. Go out in groups. Own a firearm. Meet men on first dates in public places. Make sure to have a car or cab fare. Don't make eye contact with men on the street. Make assertive eye contact with men on the street.

 ― Jackson Katz, The Macho Paradox: Why Some Men Hurt Women and How All Men Can Help”

#MeToo

#MeToo, let me count the ways, or a few of them.

1 and 2. I had a job that required me to visit a territory of retail stores every 6-8 weeks. In 2 different locations, creepy owners would grope me in their stockrooms. I dreaded returning to these stores, but didn't really have a choice, and spent my time dodging these men.

 3. Was staying at a hotel for a business function. Had to visit the room of the suppliers who I thought I knew well and trusted, and he forced himself on me.

4. Invited to an office open house / celebration party with a company I was doing consulting work for. The owner of this 30 person company chose this moment, with his staff standing around, to reach out and place a sticker on one of my breasts. Didn't say anything at the time, but I did call him on it later and withdrew my services.

5. A former employer asked me, as a favour, to come back and deliver a particular training session for an important audience, including the company's new President. Just before the session, when I was introduced to the President, he shook my hand and drew me towards him, and French kissed me. Then I had to deliver the training session.

I'll stop there, though there have been more. I am speaking up for all those who can't, and to add my voice to those making it clear that sexual assault happens all the time.

These days I am far more likely to speak up and tell someone to take their hands off me... but one really doesn't know how one will respond until you are in the situation, and you are caught off guard, and there is usually some kind of power dynamic going on.

Review: Brain on Fire - My Month of Madness

Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness by Susannah Cahalan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Fascinating real-life story... it could happen to anyone

An amazing glimpse into a frightening experience by a woman who "lost it" and could very well have spent the rest of her life on a psych ward, if it wasn't for the brilliant doctor who figured it out. Could you imagine having no memory of a month? This journalist pieced together what happened to her, and takes you along for the ride. Compelling story, well written, and so adeptly narrated that I forgot that the author and narrator weren't the same person.

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Doubted.

Doubted.

I feel doubted by someone. It's the oddest feeling (well, maybe not oddest, but unfamiliar and uncomfortable).

I am one of those people who is so honest I squeak. Like the time a vending machine was giving me change for a $20 every time I put $5 in (it was at a former workplace, I told them so they could fix the machine, and I gave the money back). Like a million times I've made a mistake, and fessed up or fixed it or apologized even though no one would have ever known. 

So it's a bit of a shock to realize that someone is doubting me. This feels like someone questioning my integrity, or thinking that I can't be trusted.

I actually think in this circumstances that this person hasn't really thought it through, or hasn't paid attention to the details of a situation, or hasn't grasped the full picture, so I don't take it too seriously, but I am interested in my initial reaction. 

What I felt first was hurt. Then shock. Then confusion. 

Why would anyone think I would intentionally deceive them? Do they think so little of me? Why? 

Even though I haven't done or said anything untoward, it still gives me a sinking feeling. And I feel shadows of shame flash through me. Old childhood stuff, vestiges of learning the consequences of my actions? Past recollections of times I was doubted in the past? 

I remember being a teenager, and being called into the Principal's office and questioned about the fire alarm that someone had pulled the prior evening. I was accused even though I had nothing to do with it. Of all the kids that were in the school that night, somehow I was the only person who they could fathom would do such a thing. A few days later, it was revealed that one of the 'good' kids had done it, by accident, when she fell against the alarm. 

That's not in the arena of this current situation, but it was a time when I was judged. Even when one is innocent, to be accused, or doubted, there are moments of shame. Perhaps only natural, but odd nonetheless. More than once I've had to go within, really think about a situation, before I could let myself off the hook, and relax, knowing I hadn't done anything wrong. Though, of course, there have been times when I have found an action or omission that I hadn't thought about, that needed correction, or an apology, or whatever. I am grateful that I learned to speak up when I screw up, to take personal responsibility when I have messed up.

I digress...

In this situation, I am surprised that I m doubted in this situation. I know there is no reason to, but, of course, perception is reality, in the eyes of the judger. What have I said or done to cause this person to doubt me? 

Of course, it may not have anything to do with me. 

Perhaps this person believes the worst in people, until proven wrong. I'm the opposite, but I understand some people have been conditioned this way. 

Perhaps this person has been lied to, or deceived, so many times, that they "can't" trust anyone. 

It's hard to say, but it's disappointing to realize that one has been painted with a broad brush of something that is far from the truth. 

But it's not worth worrying about, per se. There's nothing I can do about it. And I realize there are probably a whole lot of other things going on for this person and, when under stress, we respond differently than at other times. 

I'm going to give it a pass, and not let it get to me.

I know the truth.

But I'm glad I paused to take a look at this. It takes some of the sting of hurt away, and lets me sleep at night.

Review: A Gentleman in Moscow

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What a lovely book, charming, entertaining, full of surprises

I enjoyed this book even more than I thought it would. Well written, and extremely well narrated. The Metropole Hotel came to life for me, especially through a child's eyes, exploring the nooks and crannies, taken up by its illustrative resident. There was more depth and history here than one expects, and plenty of life lessons. I shall recall the Count's philosophy. A light and entertaining read.

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No no kuru

So I had this situation yesterday where I was dizzy, but it wasn't solved by eating or sitting down. It could still very well have been caused by lack of food or sleep, but I came to realize it wasn't dizziness, per se, but a lack of balance. My head felt weird, kind of heavy, and I found myself weaving when I tried to walk. Vertigo? I've been known to faint, due to low blood pressure, but this felt different. I felt more like I might fall, than pass out. My equilibrium was off.

Yes, I left work, left my car there, asked for a ride home, and a walk to my door. And lay down, for hours. Food, water, sleep and not moving largely dissipated the feeling, but it would come back when I tried to walk (I had joked with my ride that maybe I had an early earthquake warning system, because the ground was definitely moving). So lay I did. And still am.

I've been reading about vertigo, which describes what I've been feeling more than anything else. I found this article, Sleep Tips for Vertigo, to be informative. It actually makes me worry less, and provides obvious and practical healthy things I can do. I've been careless about sleep all my life.

After awhile, I became curious about other recent symptoms I've had that might indicate something... and remembered I had that thing of where you can hear the blood coursing in one ear. If you've ever felt this, you know what I mean. If not, it's fairly subtle, as if you're finally quiet enough to hear what your body is doing every day. Read a bit about how this can relate to an inner ear infection, etc.

Along the way, I got a good laugh about causes of lack of balance:

Kuru (not!)

Kuru is a neurological disease contracted through cannibalism of the dead during funeral rites. While probably true, #17 of 18 possible causes of poor balance would send some people around the bend. I "love" the internet. This gem was found here.


Good grief.

Incidentally, I found a balanced perspective and useful insights on "pulsatile tinnitus" from Harvard in Ask the doctor: Is it worrisome to hear a pulse in my ear?

Tonight I'm feeling ok. My sister is here, so not worried about anything serious. Hopefully more rest and just taking it easy will have the feeling pass. I'll see a doctor if the symptoms persist or come back. Otherwise, I am grateful for signs from the universe that I need to be taking better care of myself.

The Orkney Islands' Ring of Brodgar

The Ring of Brodgar in the Orkney Islands

Inspired by a Lonely Planet article, Stinge Henge: eight alternative ancient stone monuments, I  have been learning about the Ring of Brodgar.

Most henges don't actually not contain stone circles; but Brodgar is a striking exception. It ranks with Avebury and, to a lesser extent, Stonehenge, among the greatest of such sites.  It is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site known as the Heart of Neolithic Orkney.

Also known as Brogar, or Ring o' Brodgar, the henge  is situated about 10 kilometres (6 miles) north-east of the village of Stromness, on Mainland Island, in Orkney, Scotland. Mainland is the largest of the Orkney Islands, and the ring of stones stands on a small isthmus between Loch Harray and LochStenness and Harray.

It is thought that the monument was erected between 2500 BC and 2000 BC, which would make it the last of the great Neolithic monuments built on the Ness. Flint arrowheads found nearby seem to date from the Bronze Age. An excavation was undertaken in 2008 to settle the age issue, but they are still digging through the results, so to speak.

The Ring of Brodgar stone circle is 104 metres (341 feet) in diameter, the third largest in the British Isles.

While today only 27 stones remain standing, the ring originally comprised up to 60 stones. The tallest stones stand at the south and west sides of the ring. The famed "Comet Stone" stands on the southeast side. Unlike similar structures such as Avebury, there are no obvious stones inside the circle.

Part of a concentration of ancient sites, and the northernmost circle henge in Britain, the Ring of Brodgar is part of a significant ritual landscape.

Within 5.2 square kilometres (2 square miles) there are the two circle-henges, four chambered tombs, groups of standing stones, single stones, barrows, cairns, and mounds.

The Ring of Brodgar has been recognized as part of the "Heart of Neolithic Orkney" World Heritage Site in 1999. Others sites include in the designation includes Maeshowe, Skara Brae and the Standing Stones of Stenness.


Related resources

Stinge Henge: eight alternative ancient stone monuments - LonelyPlanet
The Boy with the Bronze Axe - Kathleen Fidler*

* the 1968 novel depicts the Ring of Brodgar as a male-only space in which a lamb is sacrificed in a midsummer ceremony

Review: The Goldfinch

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Oh, what a book!

I enjoyed this book from the beginning, but it didn't take me long to realize that this was one of the best books I had ever read. Half way through, it had moved up to best, and after that I wondered how I could bear it to end... then in the home stretch the story took a turn that took me totally off guard. It made it hard for me to relate to the main character, Theo, to even like him... stunned, I hung in there, and for the most part, I was able to reconcile the strange twist. I am glad I discovered Donna Tartt's writing, and I will be seeking out more. David Pittu's narration was superb. I loved how each character had his or her own voice (Boris' clever Russian accent!), truly bringing their personalities to life, allowing me to get lost in the story. Enjoyed the New York setting, glimpses into the worlds of art and antiques, realities of depression, drugs, and the inner struggles as one finds one's own way in this world. I couldn't put this one down, definitely lots of long stretches of listening. Very satisfying.

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