You have been tagged

I have been tagged by Asif who authors Life as I know it. Basically the tagging thing is a way to promote the (seven) blogs you like by mentioning their names in your blog. Being tagged also means that you have to share 7 random facts about yourself. So here it goes…

1. I have had five different surnames. And I might even go for the sixth one day soon.

2. I have moved house 43 times and been to 36 countries

3. I am in love, like never before

4. I can't stand chutney

5. I auditioned for the X factor a couple of years ago

6. I live in a small village opposite a pub

7. I have size 11 feet

OK, so one of the above isn't true.

Now it’s time to name seven of my favorite blogs.

Dahr Jamail's Mideast Dispatches

Registan.net

Zenpundit

Communityleague

Nomad (not me - another one!)

Sweet sweet violet

Anok

Thanks Asif!

Change or a Shift?

“Americans vote for Change” is the headline since Barack Obama made history last week. Which got me thinking. Just in my lifetime I have seen the arrival of the internet and mobile phones (even my ten year old has one), of a female Prime Minister in Britain (although I would like to distance myself from that “achievement”!) of a War on Terror and so called “global threats”. I have seen the IRA murder innocents in my country and I have seen too the conflict in Northern Ireland come to rest. My former flat mate used to keep a crumbling piece of the Berlin Wall in his bedside table and I have my own wonderful memory of myself, heavily pregnant, queuing in Trafalgar Square outside the South African Embassy together with the voters who delivered the first black President of South Africa (hahaha - my former father-in-law had said “thet will never hapin”).



But on a minute level change is a part of life, part of every moment. When I look out of the window across the road to the public house and the trees beyond glowing orange in the autumn sunshine, I do not see a static, dead world. I see a world where leaves are growing (or falling), grass is moving, wind and elements eroding paint from the pub wall, the car parked on the drive is very slowly corroding, and Steve, the pub landlord is becoming older (whether he likes it or not).

Life is a fluid thing, and how we are influenced and what we believe as we go through life changes along the way. I used to not like olives, I used to think the military was quite sexy, I used to only wear black, I used to be pretty intolerant of religion. What interests me is not change, but a global shift of consciousness – which is what I think this Obama fellow is all about.

Change is inevitable. It is The Shift which is remarkable. So be part of it.

http://www.theshiftmovie.com/

Peace Day Awards

Today is a special day. It is International Day of Peace, but it is special for another reason – those that are close to me know why. A Gaelic Blessing for some special twins:

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep Peace of the flowing air to you,
Depp peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the gentle night to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you,
Deep peace of the One who is Light of the World to you.

Moved to tears I was today, as the spirit of the Lord was upon me (not in a Samuel L Jackson kind of way). Only one man was missing.

So on to business on this day of days. I promised an award. And without a shadow of a doubt first prize goes to Carl in Spain. Not simply for his account of his time in Sri Lanka – a place of course dear to my heart after a three years stint 2000-2003, but on account of Carl’s eloquent contributions on the BC discussion boards. So top Blogel Peace Prize goes to him.

But I haven’t finished there. Per chance I was awarded a Blogging Friends award from another favourite this week. Hanifa from Singapore. I am encouraged to nominate four of my favourites.

The task is easy. Carl, Hanifa, you are up there (although I have to confess Carl, I have NO idea what you are on about most of the time. For me Serendipity means only one thing – that wonderful island that you and I know). Hanifa, I am blessed that you have reached out to me. I commend you in return. For those of you unaware, Hanifa aka Hello Annie is a diverse well travelled linguist, who blogs about language. As I am about to add French to boost my smatterings of useless languages, I found her an inspiration.

The other two are also clear winners for me. Alex in India (although I kinda know that isn’t really his name) and I have been BC pals a while. For some reason he seems to follow my every move, comment on my every blog, not only that - he is articulate and funny himself – and rattles a few cages from time to time.

And Tony. No, I am not being a creep. The owner of Blog Catalogue doessn’t HAVE to care, but he does. He has developed Bloggers Unite and clearly has a conscience. He didn’t think twice about supporting the Blog 4 Peace campaign, and I do enjoy the clear simple blog he runs. http://antonyberkman.com/ check out his simple words on being an entrepreneur – very poignant for me at the moment.

So to recap:

Carl Galloway - http://www.carlgalloway.com/archives/466-International-Peace-Day,-21st-September.html

Hanifa http://childhoodspeech.com/?p=224

Tony http://antonyberkman.com/

Little pink bear – sometimes known as Alex http://www.livefrombangalore.blogspot.com/

And here is a list of links to other BC bloggers who have taken part in Peace day. Thank you so much for your support!

Lord I want to be whole http://lordiwanttobewhole.blogspot.com/

What does Peace mean by Shiley http://proofpositivity.blogspot.com/2008/09/proof-positivity-what-does-peace-mean.html

Our World: Our responsibility by Irtiza http://lifeasiknowit22.blogspot.com/2008/09/our-worldour-responsibility.html

Human rights Digest: http://www.humanrightsdigest.org/1461/un-international-peace-day-21st-september-2008

Weblogian - http://weblogian.com/blog/index.php/2008/09/showcast-the-power-of-bloggingblogging-for-change/

And of course all those I haven’t mentioned who have linked and blogged – many thanks. I am sure I will report more on it in coming days.

Shamelessly mine own
My path to peace in Iraq two years ago 4nomadic.wordpress.com/2008/09/20/path-to-peace/

How do we Sell Peace? publicsphere.worldbank.org/how-do-we-make-people-value-peace

Apparently those I have nominated have to pass it on. Yes I guess it’s a chain letter, but a very nice one. You have to nominate an award to:

1. A máximum of five bloggers
2. Four have to be dedicated followers of your blog
3. One has to be someone new or recently new to your blog and live in another part of the world
4. You must link back to whoever gave you the award

International day of Peace - 21 September 2008

Fellow bloggers, why not Blog for Peace this Sunday?




And Dont' Forget to TXT 4 PEACE!

Or send a postcard - For more visit the UN peace day site.

"International Day of Peace is also a Day of Ceasefire – personal or political. Take this opportunity to make peace in your own relationships as well as impact the larger conflicts of our time. Imagine what a whole Day of Ceasefire would mean to humankind."

The Reverend Nomadic discusses Ramadan

My summer recess is over and I am back. A warning to those expecting a tight piece of written work from me this evening – I am liable to ramble on a bit as I skip through civil war and onto true love, passing through a Muslim festival en route. Not quite Kerouac, but largely unedited and helped with a large glass on red nonetheless. After prompting a discussion on the Blogcatalg discussion boards about Ramadan, my fellow bloggers have asked me to blog about it. What does Ramadan mean to me, as an uber-nomad who has lived amongst Muslims? Hmmm, with respect and peace be upon you all, I am not a follower of Allah – it doesn’t ring my bells. Those close to me who are, show signs of increased compassion and thoughtfulness, but also fatigue and a quiet distance akin to a hangover. I will point you randomly in the direction of my favourite Muslim blogger, Hanifa.

I can, however tell you what fasting and contemplation mean to me – which play their part in Ramadan. Fasting, as I get it, is about giving up something generally taken for granted and an observation of what is to follow. I sometimes fast for a couple of days at a time. It focuses the mind, and cleanses the body. I am usually at my most inspired and creative following a period of abstinence.

Contemplation is probably even more boring for you to hear about. It is a reassessment of my position in life, and most importantly, this year it has meant some important changes. Ramadan is an appropriate time to announce my plans to launch an organisation that promotes non-violent resolution of conflict (using media and arts). Sound a bit hippy? I am fairly determined to make this as dynamic as it has to be. Never before has it felt so right. As with a lot of things in my life at the moment, not least the true love for a Land Rover 90 and the man set to drive her.
So in contemplating peace I got to thinking about a country I stopped in for a good three years and got to know better than most – Sri Lanka. I am not about to give my views on the complex civil war that has engulfed the island for over two decades, killing over 70,000 people. OK, well I might hint at it. I won’t take sides though, I can see both arguments – as distorted and distressed as they are. I do refuse to buy into the demonising of the Tamil Tigers thing. Their violent murderous crime is well catalogued, but perhaps what isn’t, is their ability to protect and give order amongst a chaos brought about by an oppressive government (which I witnessed first hand in 2003).

This is not simply about fighting terrorists as Ravindra Wickremasinghe seems to think in the Asian Tribune this week. In Afghanistan last month I was told that “anyone could become a Taleban in the eye of a foreigner”, then I guess any Tamil could become a terrorist in some eyes. Careful.

I was thinking about Sri Lanka when a friends Facebook status informed me that he was once again displaced. I found out he had left the island of Sri and Serendipity and headed where many have headed - to another much larger island full of strange creatures such as wombats. During the ceasefire a few years ago, I travelled with this friend to Jaffna and the north and saw the places he grew up in shattered by what Lankans loving call “the problems”. His departure from Sri Lanka is as significant to me as the assassination of my friend in Basra last year. A hope extinguished. One less ray of sunshine in a difficult place.

So, (she says in her best Radio 4 voice), thought for the day is to consider all those who tonight are not where they want to be. Those who are apart from their lovers (a-hem). Removed from their children, or displaced from their cherished homelands (for whatever reason). Or, like the blogger Mohammad Erraji, away from their families (because he is in prison in Morocco).

I am beginning to sound like Reverend Nomadic. My summer was filled with wine and good times, and I have much to think about, so a fast may be long overdue to bring me back round. So, a Ramadan Mubarak to you all. And most importantly may peace be upon you.

Without Wisdom

Er.....wuff.

I can't believe it has been so long since I last posted. Clearly I am completely void of wisdom for the moment and taken up with public diplomacy and travel.

Once I recover from a month in France I will write something terribly clever about "change". In the meantime here is a picture of my cat, Mkya Ntini, who is by far the wisest creature in this house hold at the moment.

How Nomadic became Jaine

Last night a wood pigeon was torn from its haven up my chimney by the claws of my part Bengal feline beast. Blood, feathers and screams from the children filled the room like some Tarantino take on Santa. The cat was sent to Coventry and sulked in the gardens with sooty paws, whilst I set about making life changing decisions for the pigeon and clearing the bird crap from my fireplace.

Let’s go back 18 months. On divorcing my non compatible other half I was considering surnames. I was certainly NOT going to keep the surname of a white South African oppressor (which had caused me much agro born out of wild assumption for the past 14 years). The name I was born with (and oddly rarely used due to the separation of my own parents) was considered, but as it only represented 50% of me I dug deeper. My mother now has step fathers name, an ugly one I have used in the past and dislike. Her maiden name, was, well really her father’s name and again missed out due regard to my maternal grandmother. I considered inventing a whole new super name. A hybrid of every name I have ever had, or digging up an exciting name of a long lost relation.

Then I made the decision NOT to have a surname. It would have been my fifth surname after all. I’m done with them. I decided to take my middle name Jane and use that instead. My friends said my new name sounded like a cake shop or a dressmakers – but I persevered. I then found myself in India (as any self respecting Nomad does every so often). Unusually for a business trip, I also had some time on my hands, so I spent a whole day exploring Delhi. Art galleries, parks, shopping for shalwars, crazy taxi rides and my last stop, by chance was the Digambara Jain temple. I stopped the taxi (a lovely Hindustan Ambassador run on LPG) and got out, and headed for the crazy throng of people noisily going about their worship. My blondness and white clothing may have made me stand out a little, but I felt right at home. Having spent much time in Buddhist and Hindu temples in Sri Lanka I slipped off my shoes and soon found an inner sanctuary where I could sit and reflect on my surroundings. A few children came in to watch me meditate, but soon left me alone and my mind settled.

An hour later after basking in the warm smells of incense and having an all over feeling of calm (actually heightened by the gentle chaos around me) I looked around for a building that I knew to be attached to every Jain Temple – an animal hospital. Barefoot I trod upon grit and slid on recently disinfected floors, as I toured the cages housing mainly pigeons. If anyone finds an injured or sick bird in Delhi changes are they will bring it here. Jains are known for their compassion for animals and dedication to a pacifist path in life. And I made a decision there and then on the surname. I would insert an “I” (a “me) at the very heart of Jane to make it mine. I would be taking an essence of Jain philosophy with me wherever I went.

So back to the pigeon. There are no Jain Temples in rural Hertfordshire, but I needed to do something. I asked my blogging friends for advice and was overwhelmed with helpful suggestions. Kat (and her litter box) suggested letting nature take its course (surprised “Kat” didn’t recommend letting the cat back in to finish the job). I spent the night thinking about this. I consider myself part of nature, and frankly I would like to help. To intervene. So I am about to take poor frightened bird to the local vets and I will pay handsomely to repair this creature (unless it is considered, like my Landrover, “a total loss”). Someone else suggested blogging about it – this is probably not quite what you had in mind, but I have at last had a chance to feel like the Jaine that I am.