Food for thought.

   The following is another quote from the book which I referenced yesterday, 2019: The Best American Travel Writing, Alexandra Fuller, ed.
    "It is a perversion of conventional human rights that freedom of movement is granted for capital, but not for labor.  Anyone who believes that a child born anywhere in the world deserves an opportunity for a stable, healthy life must advocate for steps toward freedom of movement. The only alternative would be a world where all states are truly on an equal footing, and that went out the window with gunboat diplomacy, with systematic looting of the developing world through debt, with colonization, with the slave trade itself. These misdeed shaped the world as we know it. We cannot ignore this history and assert that feeding Haitians is just Haiti's problem. Humans should have the right to migrate, especially to the places that benefited so much from the historical exploitation of their homelands. By barring free movement, we guarantee countless tales of people resorting to desperate measures to survive." Alex Macgregor, p. 165, reprinted from Longreads.
    Why have I never thought of the inequity of the free movement of capital but not labor?  As climate change destroys the livelihood and habitat of many restrictions on freedom of movement with only become more onerous.  The author has written of his visit to a Haitian island which might be one of the most densely populated places on earth. He summarize the history of exploitation of Haiti and after his visit to the island reflects on this inequitable world.  The article's title is Is This the Most Crowded Island in the World?
     Just because I'm chilling in Bangkok doesn't mean I can't be thinking. Responses to this, all my posts are welcome.

Takk for alt,

Al

A bit about Thailand

     An advantage of being on teaching hiatus is the opportunity it gives me to read. MJV gave me 2019: The Best Travel Writing, Alexandra Fuller, ed.
   "Finally my face was on fire. My lips burned. My tongue burned. My throat burned. Sweat beaded on my cheekbones, under my eyes. This wasn't just heat--this was electric. My mouth pulsed with an incalculable voltage. Pain and pleasure blurred, the distinction irrelevant. I breathed deeply. I smiled like a twelfth-century Buddhist god-king carved in sandstone. I picked up my spoon and fork, and prepared to take another bite.
    "For weeks, I had been looking forward to the most Thailand, chilefied country in the world, where peppers are everywhere (everywhere!), in everything (almost!), pounded into curry pastes and papaya salads, sliced into stir-fries, soaked in vinegar and fish sauce and placed upon seemingly every table...." excerpt from How the Chili Pepper Took Over the World,  Matt Gross, p. 64,
    Gross traces the Chili pepper from it's origin in Central and South America to three countries that use it; Jamaica, Hungary and Thailand. What he writes about Thailand is true. Chili is ubiquitous, if you want salt with a meal you must ask and will be given soy sauce. But, every table has a pot of chili sauce from which you may add as much as you like, or dare.

Takk for alt,

Al

Places where chili is served.

"All will be revealed."

    Traveling SE Asia as I have I've learned to be flexible. Language is often the issue where plans cannot be either fully explained nor understood. Another issue is the Asian tendency to live in the moment without an over-riding concern about what happens next. To live in this state of uncertainty I've adopted a mantra that is helpful, "All will be revealed." If I trust the people just relax and let it flow.
    This mantra became very helpful today. Met, Nice' grandma, picked him up from school and came home with a message from the school for me, "The students will be testing this week so come on Monday." Yes, "All will be revealed."  In all the communications with school about when I'd begin, even before I bought my airline tickets, nothing was said about testing days.
     The situation in Ayutthaya is not conducive for me when I'm not teaching. All the adults in the house work long days. The house is in a rather remote residential area at the end of a long dead end street. It's very difficult to leave the house except by motorcycle or car. Walking is not practical with dogs, cattle pigs, motor vehicles and no sidewalks. There is no comfortable furniture, one straight chair, so spending hours here is not easy. So, we hatched a plan.
      I'll go to BKK tomorrow and return Saturday. Tong and Poe don't work Sunday and Met will close her coffee shop and we will have an outing for which "All will be revealed." 😀 Language does make a difference. Countless times I've been told "Up to you" with no hint of the right answer. Since I've learned to say 'up to you' in Thai, when I say it, someone else will actually venture an opinion or make a decision. So, I'll be back for an unspecified  adventure on Sunday.
     Disappointed, yes, but there's no snow, I'm 95% recovered, I'm in Thailand, so, me worry?

Takk for alt,

Al

The main room of my house.

 

On Sick Leave, but will I get paid?

   Bowing to the intensity of my head cold I stayed home from school today. The principal sent me a sweet note telling me not to worry about school.  My housemate, Nice, almost 4, happily headed off to school.  I look forward to going to school with him. After going back to bed for 2.5 hours of sleep I feel worlds better and, baring a significant relapse, should be able to go to school tomorrow.
    The charitable work has begun with paying off a small loan so a widow could get her motorbike back, she'd pledged it for security. The host family with whom I live are good social workers leading me to persons in need.

Takk for alt,

Al

Nice, in his school uniform.

Some of the students I'll see at school.

It's hard to get good help.......

   Scheduled to begin teaching tomorrow I may call in sick for the first time in my years of teaching here. A nasty head cold needs taming before I meet the students.  Located at the house in Ayutthaya , and now with internet access, I'll be posting regularly and probably quite a bit, if I'm under house arrest. Moving through the airports today I was very careful not to cough or sneeze. Had I done so, with the hyper-vigilance about the Chinese virus, I'd probably be in some hospital under quarantine.
     What a difference a year makes! Nice, the almost 4 year old in the house, now goes to "my" school, which is very near his grandma's coffee shop. He's quite the happy boy and he has grown out of the screaming which was an issue last year. He had been a very un-happy student in a private school and now he's happy at Wat Klang.
     Much more tomorrow.

Takk for alt,

al

Ok, then.........

       Lolling around these days has been delightful.  It is definitely one way to do retirement. However, lest I be accused of bait and switch, it's time to get on with teaching. To that end I will relocate to Ayutthaya tomorrow (Monday) and begin teaching on Tuesday.
      This may interrupt my internet connections. Connecting will rely on help from Poe and she doesn't get home from work until 6:00 p.m., 9:00 if she has overtime. This should be last interruption of my stay. Likely I'll weekend in Bangkok but that's just an hour ride on the mini-bus. At the Christian Guesthouse I can use their internet connection.
      In a few days I will have more to say about these intervening days.

Takk for alt,

Al

A bit of humor

    Many of you know that my lack of adult supervision caused a bit of a situation last year. You may remember I was scheduled to fly from Bangkok to Melbourne. When I presented myself at the Thai Airway desk to check in for my flight the woman at the desk said "Your flight left yesterday." Now, that's not exactly the greeting I was hoping for. Unfortunately it inconvenienced my friend who was waiting at the airport in Melbourne and caused a bit of anxiety for my family when they couldn't reach me. Thai Airways was very helpful and put me on the flight leaving the that evening. The confusion came when I mistook the minute one day switched to the next. My flight was schedule to depart at 00:05 hours.
    So now to this year. Taxi's can be arranged at the desk of the Christian Guesthouse. Wanting to schedule one for noon and, wanting to be clear it was not for midnight, I wrote "Noon" in the blank for the time I wanted the taxi. Perhaps Thai don't do noon? The desk clerk looked at the form and said "Noon?"  "Yes," I said, "12:00 noon, not 12:00 midnight."  After several tries at explanation I crossed out "noon" and wrote 11:59 a.m. That seemed to end the issue but it wasn't over. Later, as I passed the desk another attendant asked "When do you want a taxi?"  In the end it all worked as the taxi appeared when I wanted it.

   Tomorrow is a mystery day which begins with breakfast at 6:30 a.m., and I'll be away from my computer all day, thus I'm posting this now. A later date I'll give a full report on the day.

Takk for alt,

Al

Plastic vs banana leaf

    From time immemorial the people of SE Asia used banana leaf as an all purpose wrapper. Banana plants are ubiquitous, the leaves broad and stable. It had one other very desirable trait; it is biodegradable. When it has served it's purpose just throw it out the window and it quickly becomes humus.
     Several years ago I was Luang Prabang,  Laos, which is about 4 hours by bus north, of the capital , Vientiane. Luang was once the place of the King's residence during Laos' monarchy. With time to explore I wandered off to a neighboring village. The small, elevated, thatched roofed houses stood with open windows that had no screens. Below the windows were piles of plastic bags, disposed of as it they were banana leaves.
     Thailand recognizes that it has a plastics problem. Until recently it was accepting plastic waste from the U.S. and other countries. Several accounts of Thai wildlife dying of ingested plastic have appeared in the press. This has moved the Thai government, rather uncharacteristically, to take action. They have significantly restricted the use of single use, plastic bags.(A little excurses re; Thai regulation: It banned several pesticides recently until pressure from the U.S. Government on behalf of American pesticide manufactures caused them to rescind the ban.) Walk into any of the ubiquitous 7-11s and see a sign prominently displayed "We proudly support the government's ban on single use plastic bags. Some funny videos have surfaced of Thai persons being creative as they seek to carry their purchases; inverted traffic cones, suitcases, etc.
    Admirable as it is, one huge segment of commerce is excluded; food stalls and carts. Purchases from theses vendors often include multiple bags; entrees, spices, and other condiments. Many Thai' seldom cook at home rather purchasing their food from carts and stalls which seem to be everywhere.
    China, too, is beginning to restrict the use of plastic. Their restrictions will be phased in more gradually and it remains to be seen how serious they are. (A little discurses re:China. It has a very serious demographic problem of plunging birthrate while lacking the relative affluence to sustain their elderly population. Chinese of child-bearing age lack interest in parenting having been raised as an only child. This has serious long-term consequences for the country. Added to that  situation is government repression of ethnic minorities who tend to be more fecund."
    Another note about banana leaf. Sweet, sticky rice in Thailand is still

sold in banana leaf.

   So, Al is living the good life in SE Asia!

Takk for alt,

Al

A mobile green-grocer on a street in BKK. Notice the plastic bags.

Bangkok Scene

     The Guesthouse (picture) where I stay in Bangkok is in the heart of the city. There are office towers and an upscale, multi-level shopping center nearby. The work day for many Thai ends at 5:30 or 6:00, often ten hour days. This is known as the Sala Daeng area and has stops for both the Sky Train (elevated) and the subway. (I use the Sky Train frequently but not the subway.) When the workers finish their day there is a river of people filling the sidewalks toward those mass transit stops This area is too pricey for most workers. The sidewalks are so crowded then that it is difficult to go against the crowd. (See pictures.)
     Night time temperatures have been about 80 and in the mid 90s daytime. It took me about 15 minutes to adjust after leaving the frozen tundras of MN.😃

Takk for alt,

Al

Bangkok Christian Guesthouse

Sidewalk rush hour.

Skytrain tracks in upper left.

Post Script

 Today I went back to the big, sprawling food court in tent. It's sunny with temps in the 90s and no breeze. It was hot enough so I saw Thai mopping their faces. But, what about the cooks standing over hot stoves, braziers and woks? What is the ambient temperature for them?
     As I travel about Thailand I'm struck by all the jobs people have to keep life together that I would hate to do; sweep streets by hand? cook in a food stall? etc.  It reinforces both my gratitude and my clarity that so much of that for which I'm grateful is simply an accident of my birth, where, when and to whom I was born. Don't go giving me any of that "self-made" nonsense.
   When ordering an omelette with rice I can do it verbally. But with the demands on the cooks they use a system that has customers writing their order, in Thai, and putting the note on a spindle. Holding pen and paper I turn to another customer and say "omelette with rice" in Thai, they write it for me and I place it on the spindle. Meanwhile the cook is serving several customers before me and she appears not to have noticed me. She takes several orders from the spindle and when she fills mine she nods to me. How did she know it was mine in the chaos of that stall?

Takk for alt

Al

Street Sweeper

Cooking in a food stall

Riding the Baht Bus in Bangkok

   When I learned of a night market in another part of BKK I decided to visit. Travelling by a Baht Bus was part of the adventure. The buses got their name because 1 Baht, 3 cents, was the fare. Alas inflation has also hit bus fares and the ride cost 6 Baht. Being a big spender I paid the 18 cents and went for a no frills, all windows open, stick shift, bus ride, after negotiating two lanes of traffic to board (stop at the curb? why bother?).  Liking to sight see I claimed a window seat to enjoy the street life streaming past...better than a video.
    "Night market" was a misnomer. Night markets are pop ups on an open space; parking lot, sidewalk, street, etc., and they are set up for a few hours then taken down. This place had elements of a shopping mall, food court, theater district, amusement park with a large ferris wheel. and river promenade, all of which are permanent fixtures.  Night markets are 'bargain basement' types of venues. This was upscale. It was interesting to see but not as fascinating as the bus ride.
    The return bus trip wasn't as fun because I was on an air-conditioned bus for which the fare was 45 cents. The windows, all closed, were covered with a mesh to block the sun denying me a street view. It was also traffic jam time, at one time we stood for 30 minutes without moving.
    So that's a bit about life in "The Venice Of The East."

Takk for alt,

Al

Baht Bus

Inside a Baht Bus

The name of the 'not night market'

Sunset over the Chao Phraya River

The name of the 'not night market'

Front of Asiatique

Recommended reading and life in BKK.

     The day before I left home I finished one of my Christmas books. When I saw that I wasn't going to finish two books, reading alternate chapters, I chose to finish The Oregon Trail: A New American Journey, Rinker Buck.  Buck, and his brother, started at a favorite jumping off place in Kansas just across the Missouri River. Using three mules to pull their covered wagon they made it all the way to Oregon.
   The book not only tells the story of the journey but includes much historical data. For example; the migration west was the largest human migration ever with over 400,000 persons. Or, the journey early in the migration of a white woman, who wrote back to eastern newspapers positively about her experience, did much to fuel the movement. Buck also uses the journey as one of self discovery, about which he is very candid. He's a writer by profession and that is clear from how well the book is written.  It's a history book hiding inside of a compelling dual journey. The accompanying pictures and maps help a reader to visualize what is being described. There's even a happy ending for the mules who pulled the wagon over 2000 miles.  Yes, I recommend it.
   
    The big event of my day yesterday was getting a haircut. (See the picture below.) The huge building across the street from the guesthouse that was being demolished last year is now down to street level, It was about a block square and housed two 7-11s, Starbucks, three or four restaurants and other stores at street level. It also had a multi-story apartment building and parking ramp. What comes next??? (See picture)

    About a block from the guesthouse is a food market, which is about a block square, under a canvas roof with open sides. Many, if not most of the stalls are cooking food, so that adds to the 90 degree heat. My lunch of an omelette on a bed of rice cost $1.15, and, I may well go back for another today. (See the pictures below.)

   Yes, I'm living the good life in BKK.

Takk for alt,

Al

Where I got my haircut.

The source of my omelette.

The food court.

Site of the razed building.

Repressive

     The political situation here is tenuous. One bit of evidence is the requirements for purchasing a sim card for a phone. Since the army coup on the government some years ago getting a sim card is more difficult. Previously any 7-11, there's at least one on every block, would sell a sim care, no questions asked. Yesterday to buy a sim card I needed my passport, of which they took pictures including my visa, and they also took my picture. If I do anything seditious via phone they will be able to track me.  Perhaps that is all I should say for now.
   Thailand is suffering a significant drought which is worst in the north. Farmers will be fortunate to get one rice crop rather than two. Reservoirs in the north are significantly low for this early in the dry season. Water conservation is being encouraged by the government.  It seldom rains in January but there was a light one this morning here in Bangkok. It doesn't make much difference but does freshen things up a bit.
   Hunger is marker of jet lag. When I feel hungry a check of the time reveals that it is my usual mealtime in MN. Last night I spent a bit of time awake in the middle of the night, noon in MN. Sitting up a bit and two Advil PM and I slept until 7:00 a.m. 
   This is my story and I'm sticking with it.

Takk for alt,

Al
       

Reporting In from BKK

    There were three legs to my flight to Bangkok. Leaving Mpls at 8:15, ahead of the projected snow, (did it snow?) I flew to Detroit, a short hop, 1:45. Flying from Detroit to Seoul took 13.5 hours and that was longish, but I watched three Japanese movies, one of which was quite good. Flying from Seoul to BKK I won the seat lottery...an empty seat next to me 😃. With that gift, and no one to bump me, I slept 5 of the 5.5 hour flight.
     It was 80 degrees when we landed and now at 9am it is still 80, and no snow.  The Bangkok Christian Guesthouse is again my abode. All I've done so far is eat the breakfast which is included in the room fee, which is about $39. per night. There will be a few days of R&R here while I adjust to the new  time...13 hours ahead of MN...and tropical temperatures...though I'm almost adjusted to 80 degrees.
   All's well!

Takk for alt.

Al

Schedule Change

   It's time to leave the snow and cold. Tomorrow I'll leave for Bangkok, with stops in Detroit, and Seoul. Scheduled to fly from MSP at 8:15 a.m. I'm to arrive in Bangkok at mid-night Saturday, which would be 11:00 a.m. Minneapolis time because their time is 13 hours ahead of ours. So this will be my final post until I get online in Thailand. With the 13 hours time difference you'll find my posts arriving at a different time.
    This will be 12th year of teaching there and the school has invited me to return. The Thai family, with whom I've been living has also invited to stay with them again for the 10th year. Before I begin teaching I will spend a weekend in Phnom Penh, Cambodia with Lisa. It was 2009 when I was last there so I expect much change.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS I do check my email regularly, though I've found, many fewer emails arrive when I'm travelling. Out of country out of mind I guess.

Food for thought....

   Nancy forwarded this quote to me today from a book she's reading for book club. (Thanks Nancy!)

The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, by Hendrik Groen

    "....Almost every name in my address book is crossed out. Two that aren't may or may not be still alive. Another doesn't remember who I am. That leaves only Evert and Anja, Graeme, Edward and Gierje aren't listed in my address book. Not a very impressive list of friends, is it. The choice is either dying young, or enduring an endless string of funerals. I now have just five more funerals to go, max, not counting the ones I go to out of politeness."

    When Joanne died I quickly claimed her "Birthday Book." For our first anniversary, in 1965, my mother gave Joanne this Birthday Book. The binding is cracked and it's now held together with rubber bands. Few gifts have been as well received, and used so faithfully, as this little book. It was Joanne's guide for sending multiple cards every month. Reading through it is to see a cascade of family and friends now departed. 

    Groen is correct; the choices are die young or endure an endless string of funerals. It's an interesting assumption on Groen's part that he will outlive his five remaining friends/family. Perhaps they will attend his funeral. We're all terminal, we just don't know our expiration date. Perhaps we should have stamp on us that says "Best if used by....."  😋

Takk for Alt

Al

Well Said!

    When a friend forwarded the quote below I had two thoughts. First, I may have posted it, or something similar previously. Second, nevertheless it is profound and well worth another post even if it had been previously offered.  Doesn't it ring true for you? It is so well said that it can stand on its own.
  "Grief.  I've learned, is really just love.  It's all the love you want to give but cannot.  All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest.  Grief is just love with no place to go."  
    

    "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Alfred Lord Tennyson

    Yes, while I dwell in the land of grief, I'm certainly not sorry to have loved. Our love filled our days for 55 years and continues to warm my memories. The loss brings pain but not regret. 

Takk for alt,

Al

Blessings

    One of the aspects of my work life that I cherished was relationships with colleagues. Tonight was a reprise, when I went to Happy Hour with six of the former. For two hours we sat, we talked, we ate, we laughed, we shared, we told stories, we caught up on family and lives. As the local paper would have said "A good time was had by all" and I'd say "Al, Too!" 😄
    Those gathered tonight, and the camaraderie, are powerful reminders of all the blessings that remain, even if I do live in the land of grief. "Showers of blessings..." the old song said and that's my experience. Every where I turn I find blessing upon blessing.
    All I can do is say "Thank You!" "Thank You!" "Thank You!"

Takk for alt,

Al

So now?

   When I went to Thailand last year it was about eight months after Joanne's death. Not knowing what to expect, relative to my grieving, I was surprised that my time in Asia was a vacation from grief. Joanne traveled with me only one time to SE Asia and we went to Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam. That was in the mid-1990's when we visited Lisa, who was living in Cambodia. After Lisa left Cambodia, Joanne had no interest in going there again. Consequently,SE Asia was "my place" not hers so the presence of absence was not as acute when I was there last year. So, what should I expect this year?
    After first visiting Lisa in Cambodia in the early '90's I was fascinated with SE Asian life. On that trip I also was in Cambodia, Thailand and Vietnam. Because of my fascination I returned to that area as I had opportunity. After a few trips Joanne said to me "If you're going to go regularly, do something worthwhile."  So, 12 years ago I began teaching in Thailand. Joanne quickly took interest and ownership of that endeavor.
    This year I will return to what is familiar. The people, places and occurrences are well known. What was once exotic, for example "O look at the water buffalo" or "See the monitor lizard" are commonplace. There are only 3 or 4 teachers who were teaching in the school when I began making me one of the "senior faculty". 😊 Most of the students in 4th, 5th and 6th grades will be known to me.
     As I anticipate the trip I look forward to seeing people whom I know, with whom I've lived and with whom I've taught. I'm grateful for Joanne's challenge

Takk for alt,

Al

Family Values

     Rinker Buck, in his book Oregon Trail, does at least three things, He includes much detail about the history of the Oregon Trail, gives a travelogue of trans-versing it with his brother in a covered wagon pulled by three mules, and reflects deeply on himself and his life. One of his comments about the a family value struck a deep chord in me.
     The journey to Oregon succeeds because of the profuse help of many strangers. Buck may be a bit neurotic and freely shares his anxieties about the adventure they've tackled. He says his father raised him to always give help, but never ask for any. Which made him uncomfortable with all he received on the trail. When I read that I was transported back to my childhood.
      My father ran an independent farm. We did co-operate with my uncle and cousin and one other family during harvest until my uncle and cousin moved away and the other farmer bought his own combine. Other than that, we did everything for ourselves, neither borrowing nor lending, though I suspect dad would have lent had he been asked. Many neighboring farmers often swapped work and equipment but not us.
     This left me with a life-long reluctance to borrow or ask for help, as  Buck expresses. I have no memory of anything ever being said about this value. It was so clearly lived out, perhaps,  that words were not needed. It's not all bad...that streak of independence...but there are times to ask and especially to accept that which is offered with a simple Thank you!."

Takk for alt,

Al

Perspective

      Reading Wendell Berry always provides quoatables, this time from his novel Jayber Crow. Jayber after their deaths, is reflecting on old men who had frequented his barber shop.  "Things went to the grave with them that will never be know again." P. 127. Yeah and verily...it's that loss of history which I feel so keenly in the land of grief.
   A couple of pages later is this "The generation that was old and dying when I settled in Port William (in the late '30's) had memories that went back to the Civil War. And now my own generation, that calls back to the First World War, is old and dying. And gray hair is growing on the heads that just looked over tabletops at the time of Worlds War II. I can see how we grow up like crops of wheat and are harvested and carried away." P. 129. "...the generations rise and pass away before, You..."
    In the book Jayber Crow is reflecting on his life in old age. He was orphaned as a boy, went to live with an elderly aunt and uncle. When they die he is placed in an orphanage some distance away. Eventually he makes his way back to the area where he was born, After he's established as barber in the local town he goes to visit the graves of his parents and aunt and uncle. Reflecting on the grief of those losses he says "...This grief had something in it of generosity, some nearness to joy. In a strange way it added to me what I had lost. I saw that, for me, this country would always be populated with presences and absences, presences of absences, the living and the dead. The  world as it is would always be a reminder of the world that was, and of the world that is to come." P. 132

"...presences and absences, presences of absences...."  If, we all have a place in the land of grief, we will indeed have these.

   Reflecting on his early life he says "...--all the people of that early world I once thought would last forever,..." P. 130.  Isn't this true? As youngsters we think of people as permanent. On my desk is a picture of a family gathering in which I'm a baby being held by my grandmother. Of the 28 in the picture there are 6 of us alive today. Growing up with that extended family I assumed it was forever.

Takk for alt,

Al

Memory Lane

    What did we know? Not nearly as much as we imagined. Life was ahead of us, newly married, we settled into an apartment in a newer building at 3117 Virginia Ave. S,, St. Louis Park, MN. Joanne was close to her job as a counselor at St. Louis Park High School and I commuted, across town, to Luther Seminary, St. Paul. It was a three story building with four units on each of the top two floors and three at the 'garden' level.
    We first lived on the 2nd level but, at the landlord's request moved up a level for the second of our four years there. The man who live above us ignited a can of shoe polish, dropped it when he burned his fingers and the can rolled over the light carpet, spilling liquid shoe polish. He's the same man who tried to open a keg of been in the hallway with a screwdriver...neither incident ended well. After he was evicted the landlord thought we might be better tenants on the new carpet.
     Tonight I was guest at a lovely dinner with Kevin and Alyssa who took me to "A Wok In The Park", a Thai restaurant about four blocks from our Virginia Ave. apartment. After dinner I drove by the building which brought back many memories. It's where we were living when Lisa was born and I graduated from the seminary. It was few block from our friend and Lisa's Godmother, Gerry Thompson, who was on call to take Joanne to the hospital should I be gone when Joanne went into labor. It was there we hosted dinner after Lisa's baptism at Westwood Lutheran Church., after she was baptized by her Grandfather, Rev. Oscar C. Hanson.
     This is much of what Joanne and I would have discussed after an evening like I just finished. We'd have discussed the fine dinner with Alyssa and Kevin. Then we would have reminisced about life at 3117 Virginia. So, in her absence I tell you...that presence of absence you know.

Takk for alt,

Al
     

On Silence

     Perhaps I got one thing right in my working years. Confronting the grief of the bereaved I usually said very little but rather tried to articulate what the griever was feeling. This practice proved out when I became the bereaved. Few, if any, words comforted me. What was comforting the presence of another who communicated an understanding of the pain I was feeling. The relationship carried the message and a willingness to let my have my pain was important.
   Often, just being together in silence, was balm to my soul. As Rohr states "We do not hear silence; rather, it is that by which we hear. "  Lars forwarded this meditation to me, likely because it resonates with an earlier post on this site.
     "Silence undergirds our very being as ceaseless, primary prayer."  Pray without ceasing and use words if you must.

Richard Rohr's Daily Meditation

Inner Silence
Wednesday, January 8, 2020

"Silence is not the absence of being; it is a kind of being itself. It is not something distant, obtuse, or obscure of which only ascetics and hermits are capable. Most likely we have already experienced deep silence, and now we must feed and free it and allow it to become light within us. We do not hear silence; rather, it is that by which we hear. We cannot capture silence; it must enthrall us. Silence undergirds our very being as ceaseless, primary prayer.

Silence is a kind of thinking that is not thinking. It is a kind of thinking which truly sees (from the Latin contemplata meaning “to see”). Silence, then, is truly an alternative consciousness. It is a form of intelligence, a form of knowing beyond reacting, which is what we normally call emotion. It is a form of knowing beyond mental analysis, which is what we usually call thinking. Philosopher René Descartes (1596–1650) was not wrong when he said, “I think, therefore I am.” He was accurately describing the Western person. Most of us believe that we are what we think, but we are so much more than our thoughts about things.

At their higher levels, all of the great world religions teach that this tyrannical mode of thinking has to be relativized and limited or it takes over—and rather completely takes over—to the loss of primal being. Pretty soon, words mean less and less; they mean whatever the ego wants them to mean. Witness our political discourse today! But this leads to more and more cynicism and suspicion about all words, even our own.

The ego uses words to get what it wants. When we are in an argument with our family, friends, or colleagues, that is what we do. We pull out the words that give us power, make us look right or superior, and help us win the argument. But words at that level are rather useless and even dishonest and destructive.

The soul does not use words. It surrounds words with space, and that is what I mean by silence. Silence is a kind of wholeness. It can absorb contraries, paradoxes, and contradictions. Maybe that is why we do not like silence. There is nothing to argue about in true inner silence, and the mind likes to argue. It gives us something to do. The ego loves something it can take sides on. Yet true interior silence does not allow you to take sides. That is one reason contemplation is so liberating and calming. There are no sides to take and only a wholeness to rest in—which frees us to act on behalf of love."

Takk for alt,

Al

Edith (Bergh) Negstad. born Jan. 7, 1900, rural Brookings Count, SD.

    When Olai Bergh finished  Hauges Synod Seminary, Red Wing, MN., in 1884, he was sent to eastern South Dakota to establish a congregation. Purchasing 80 acres 4 miles south of Volga he built a church and established a farm. Accompanying him was his bride Minnie Halvorson. Olai and Minnie now lie buried in the cemetery where the church once stood.
     The Berghs had 12 children, the first two died in infancy, and 10 survived to adulthood. Edith was the 10th child and 8th of those who lived beyond infancy. In 1929 Edith married Albert Negstad and I was the 4th and final child born to them. The first child was born at home and the rest of us were born in a local maternity home with the aid of a mid-wife.
    My mother would be 120 years old today, it was always easy to track her age because she was born 7 days into the new century. She died in December 1989, a few weeks shy of age 90. It seems fitting on this day to pay her tribute.
    Raising 4 children on a farm, during the depression and drought years of the 1930's, in which we all 4 were born, could not have been easy. She was very organized following the standard practice followed by many housewives; Monday-wash clothes, Tuesday-mend-clothes, Wednesday-iron clothes, Thursday-I forget, Friday-clean house and Saturday-bake bread, rolls, etc. Meanwhile, tending four children each 2 years apart.
   One clue about her organizational ability is that she was one of two women who were tasked with organizing the kitchen for the big ladies-aid dinners. She didn't like to do it because she didn't like telling others what to do but she did it well.
    A clue to her character came after her death. Her grandchildren discovered in conversation that each of them was convinced that she/he was grandma's favorite. She was not given to speaking in public but when her congregation was debating leaving the denomination she spoke against it and the congregational president later told me that her speech turned the tide and the congregation voted to remain.
    She was a good spouse, mother, grandmother, aunt, neighbor and friend. When I count my blessings, she and my father, are among the foremost. They lie buried a short distance from Joanne so I regularly visit them as well as other family members

Takk for alt,

Al

More About Reuben and Doris

     After Reuben and Doris left the farm they moved to Brookings and bought a house about a block from the campus of South Dakota State College (now University). Reuben went to work for a construction company that built houses. His specialty was finishing work, cabinets, moldings, bathrooms, etc., and he was master craftsman. When he turned 80 he retired.
   With their proximity to the college they decided to rent basement rooms to students. This is how they came to be my landlords during my second year of college. The house, and the basement, was small yet six of us lived there. Living in one room were Jim and Larry, Marine Vets, and Jim was Larry's uncle. In another room there were four of us from Sinai; the late Rolf Hope, his brother, Lloyd, and David Halvorson. We all shared a small kitchen.
   Doris was not only abundantly kind she was also a good sport. A stay-at-home-mom with three  young children, we had many interactions with her. She enjoyed playing the piano, a habit which gave Jim and Larry an opportunity to tease her. When they heard the piano they'd howl like stray dogs. One day when they heard the piano upstairs they did their howling routine, The playing soon stopped, footsteps could be heard across the floor and the front door slammed. Doris told Jim and Larry that it was a neighbor who was playing. The truth was, it was Doris playing, she just pretended to leave the house and was playing a prank back on them. 😊
    That's my story and I'm sticking with it!

Takk for alt,

Al
 

Remembering Reuben and Doris

   It is no exaggeration to say that I did not always make the best decisions in my adolescence. Doris could have told you that. Reuben and Doris were a young, married couple, in my home congregation, when I was beginning high school. As often happens to young marrieds, they were recruited to be Luther League sponsors, ie., youth group advisers. It was in this capacity that Doris earned my undying devotion and thereby hangs a tale.
    There was a long standing tradition in Sinai Lutheran Church that the Luther League would serve an oyster stew supper to the congregation. Most of us came from farm families, and many of us had milk cows, so we would bring the milk for the stew from our farms in tall milk cans. During one of these suppers, likely I was in ninth grade, I entered the kitchen during the course of the supper. Sitting on one of the empty milk cans, with his back to me, was my classmate, Mark Stime. In my adolescent brain I thought it would be fun to kick the bottom of the can on which Mark sat and dump him on the floor.  All went according to plan except  that the can was full of milk. Suddenly there were gallons of milk flooding the floor. Unbeknownst to me, Luther League adviser, Doris, had followed me into the kitchen and witnessed the whole debacle. Laughing, she silently went to the closet, retrieved a mop and cheerfully mopped up the milk with nary a word of reproach.     
    This was a clear peek into her character, one that was shared by her husband, Reuben. Now you see why she holds a special place in my heart.  It please me that, Doris, who died in 2008, and Reuben, are buried only a few feet from Joanne. Doris' lack of judgement did more for my reformation than any scolding would have done and, has remained for me, a beautiful illustration of grace. Rest in peace dear Reuben and Doris; good and faithful servants.
    At a later time I'll tell more about Reuben and Doris from when I roomed in their basement during college.

Takk for alt,

Al

Snow angel by Joanne's grave.

Family at dinner.

More Tomorrow

  Twelve family members went out for dinner, then coffee and Christmas cookies, so time flew so I will write more tomorrow!
    Good night all!

Take for alt,

Al

Melancholy redux

   It's time to close up The Little House for the remainder of winter. Lars and I will drive there today and do a little hunting as the season closes. It is also an opportunity to attend Reuben Skordahl's, (1/17/1924-1/4/2020),  funeral. Reuben, and his late wife Doris,were my Luther League Advisers when I was in high school. In the 1957 school year I shared a basement apartment, in their house, with 5 others while I was attending South Dakota State College (now University). I'll write more about Reuben and Doris in the future.
    Today I packed up the Christmas decorations. That was an experience in melancholy. "The holidays must be hard" is a comment often made. They weren't particularly until New Years, which I blogged about a couple of days ago. Perhaps the sadness was delayed, because Evy and Sella decorated the tree and Lars the condo, that de-decorating was more poignant. Handling all the ornaments brought the memories back. Not every memory is rosy, there are those reminders of things I wished I'd done differently. So many item's origins are lost to me. I ache to say "Joanne where did we get this? Who gave us that?"  It is another reminder of the door that closed on asking about so many things. (Readers: don't delay ask questions when you can.)
   Travelling to S.D., with Lars will be a good antidote to today's bout of melancholy. The funeral will bring me contact with many from my past, including my cousin from California, and, I will explain that connection in a future blog when I write about Reuben and Doris, who were true "salt of the earth."

Takk for alt,

Al

A Better Day

   Perhaps it's such a small thing as a successful trip to the walk-in, audiology clinic at the VA, a good night sleep, caring email responses and comments on the blog, but no melancholy today.  Much has been written about the problems with services from the VA but my experience has been overwhelmingly positive. Moving around in the VA and other places my 'Happy New Years' greetings were enthusiastically received. Walking through the Costco parking lot I looked the man pushing carts back to the store in the eye and said "Happy New Year." His response was as if he'd won the lottery. It really doesn't take much to brighten someone's day does it?

   In response to the Buechner quote I posted yesterday Paul said this in an email:

"And the famous Bonhoeffer quote from Letters and Papers, followed by my own commentary that I have shared with others: "Nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we love, and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute; we must simply hold out and see it through.  That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it is a great consolation, for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled, preserves the bonds between us.  It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; he does not fill it, but on the contrary, he keeps it empty and so helps us to keep alive our former communion with each other, even at the cost of pain."----This is the paragraph I remember the best and find the most useful.  This translation from the German is different from the one I remember.  I prefer to use the word "emptiness" rather than "gap".  "Emptiness" is more of a relational word than the spatially oriented "gap".  I like to personify the emptiness to describe it more fully, so I often think of the "father-shaped emptiness" I have known within since the death of my dad when I was 10."

    I think Paul is unto something with preferring 'emptiness' in place of 'gap'. It is about relationship after all. One of the dangers in confronting our sense of emptiness is forming an unhealthy attachment to another, rather than embracing the reality that life is inherently lonely. It is lonely because to be a morally responsible, functioning adult we much take ultimate responsibility for ourselves rather than fusing with another. Responsibility for our choices rests with us. Perhaps  too often I've been know to remark "We all make choices." But, it is true, and therein lies the cause of loneliness.  Buechner would say it is in that emptiness God is present. Bonhoeffer sees in the emptiness opportunity for communion with the departed.

Takk for alt,

Al

Melancholy

From Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark:  quoted in January 1, 2020 Christian Century, p. 21.

"Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him."

    After sailing through Advent and into Christmas with few episodes of evident grief New Year's has been melancholy for me.  Buechner's quote above resonated with me. "Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness,..."

    Thinking about that quote practically, in the presence of absence in the land of grief, I feel an emptiness, unease and incompleteness in my bereavement. There is something poignant about beginning another new year, and especially a new decade, that Joanne will not experience. It feels so wrong.  Joanne could remember every decade from the '30's to the teens but she will not know the '20's. 
        Our granddaughters at 10 and 7 are so clearly showing their characters and personalities. Why isn't Joanne physically present for them?  She took such delight in them and they in her.
       Yes, you can see I have the melancholies, it's not fatal but it's no fun either.

Takk for alt,

Al