20 de ani de democratie ne invata ce?

ca iarasi ajungem sa alegem, liberi si nesiliti de nimeni, intre un reprezentant al comunismului, za geoana, si intre super-base, care mia are un pic si ii dictator.

geoana e ca o marioneta, pe care inclusiv superiorii pe linie politica il fac prost in fata camerelor de filmat, iar base ajunge sa palmuiasca copii in campanie ca au vorbit urat.

mai fratilor, io cu cine plm votez?????

mai bine ma gandesc sa plec dracului. mai bine spal o buda la un strain, dar macar nu mai trebuie sa vad mizeriile de politicieni autohtoni. Oameni de carton, nascuti sa fure, sa ii calce in picioare pe ceilalti, sa beie si sa manance pe seama celorlalti.

mai bine …

 IERARHIE ,a..prostiei, inteligentei, smecheriei,fraieriei..

Daca citesti aceste rinduri , poate nu o sa iti fie foarte clar la ce ma refer. Si daca nu ti-e clar la ce ma refer, asta inseamna ca nu poti sa crezi ca viata e facuta din ierarhie. A ceea ce  omul da mai multa sau mai putina importanta.

Unul e mai prost decit altul, unul e mai destept decit altul, mai sarac, mai bogat,mai ajutat de soarta sau nu!

Dar o ierarhie a omeniei? O ierarhie la a iti pasa de alt om, la a iti pasa atit de mult incit sa vrei sa iti pese mai mult decit altuia. La o lupta in care fiecare sa demonstreze ca poate fi mai om, si mai om, decit celalalt?

Numai ca nu se intimpla asa. Un mar stricat daca il ai intr-un cos, mai repede o sa strice alte mere, decit invers. In vecii veci, merele stricate n-or sa se faca bune de la un mar bun. Dar multe bune si chiar daca unul,doua sint stricate, reusesc sa se prezerve, in opinia mea.

Ceea ce gindesc este ca oamenilor in general le e mai usor sa fie dusi de valul vietii, sa reactioneze dupa instincte decit dupa ratiune. Instinctul in general este hrana. Putem noi sa prezentam asta dupa cum vrem. Meniuri specialitati ,preparate de mari sefi..in restaurante selecte..in ambianta deosebita si in mijlocul unor oameni care isi pot permite sa plateasca sume exorbitante.. Dar la urma urmei, in farfurie se afla hrana! Animalele salbatice o obtin prin efort, oamenii o obtin prin metode ingenioase, inginerizate social… Studii, cariera..

Iar metodele astea ingenioase de a obtine hrana, au creat structura in societate, pozitia fiecaruia stabilind ierarhie sociala.

Insa astazi ma gindeam la o altfel de ierarhie. Si anume aceea a dreptului la viata. Si mai ma gindeam ca geografia, locul unde traiesti, reprezinta sansa sau nesansa la viata. Ma gindeam la acei oameni ,refugiatii africani ,care fug  din tara lor, fac eforturi, supravietuiesc si se straduiesc sa supravietuiasca,  ajung la granita cu Egiptul, fiecare clipa o lupta ,in efortul de a-si prezerva viata, iar un soldat la granita il impusca. Iar viata se opreste in acel moment. A fost, a stat in loc o clipa, si a disparut pe vecie, pentru ca cineva i-a curmat-o. Cineva care probabil avea o MUNCA(!?) de soldat aparator de granita..si de criminal legal.

Daca omul acela ar fi fost prietenul lui, tatal lui, fratele lui, l-ar fi omorit cu atita usurinta? Ar fi putut? Si cum atunci poate sa indrepte arma si moartea cu atita usurinta asupra vietii unui om, doar pentru ca e strain? Emigrant ilegal!

Iar viata noastra decurge fara nici o atitudine, fara revolta, fara durere? E vorba de un om. Ucis din considerente pe care eu nu le inteleg. Ucis de un om, iar eu sint om si totusi nu pot sa cred ca ma aflu pe aceeasi treapta cu astfel de oameni, sa pot sa pun mina pe arma si sa ucid pentru ca regulile  sadic  stabilite au forma de crima legala, pentru ca cineva a hotarit ca e legal sa ucizi.

Cum este posibil ca in anii 2009 astfel de lucruri sa se petreaca inca?

Egypt ‘must stop’ border shooting

Thousands of Africans have crossed the unmarked desert border into Israel An international human rights lobby group has called on Egypt to stop shooting African migrants as they cross the country’s border into Israel. Egyptian border guards have shot dead at least 32 African refugees and migrants since June 2007, Human Rights Watch says in a new 90-page report. Some 13,000 people, mainly Sudanese and Eritreans, have crossed since 2006. Israel has also violated refugees’ rights, HRW says, including forcibly returning dozens of them to Egypt. “They are not safe in Egypt. Assurances are worthless,” said HRW’s Joe Stork in remarks to AFP news agency. Issue of policy Egypt has said its tactics on the border are part of its strategy to counter terrorism and smuggling, but the report says there is no suggestion the migrants who had been shot posed any threat to border guards. “There is no evidence, and Egyptian officials have not claimed, that in any of the known cases where Egyptian border guards killed or wounded migrants and refugees, they fired in self-defence,” the report said. “This is an issue of policy, it’s an issue of command control,” Mr Stork told AFP. “The first time it happens, OK it may be a tragic mistake. When it happens over and over again, it reflects policy.” The report says Israel asked Egypt to do more to prevent illegal migration in early 2008 when scores of people were crossing the largely unmarked desert border every night. Many migrants say they are leaving Egypt because of racism against black Africans there and “frequent” violent treatment including from the authorities, the report says. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7724239.stm

O ile to ja miałem zaszczyt zainspirować czcigodnego pana profesora, to pudło. Nad powrotem się nigdy nie zastanawiałem, więc siłą rzeczy nie mogę nikomu grozić wracaniem ani niewracaniem. Polskiego patriotyzmu nie kultywuję według żadnego standardu, a jeśliby przyjąć standard szczególnie wyśrubowany, wedlug normy Acta Sadurskiana Poloniensis, to nawet wręcz przeciwnie. Chyba że za resztkowy przejaw patriotyzmu uznać fakt, że w przeciwieństwie do profesora, mnie jakoś nie przechodzą przez pióro frazy takie jak “nasz wywiad i bezpieka”.

2009-10-31 14:55

via Emigranci – Wojciech Sadurski: “Daleko blisko” – Salon24.

La invitaţia reprezentanţilor Partidului Românilor din Spania, în perioada 23-25 octombrie 2009, va avea loc la Barcelona o serie de întâlniri informale ale reprezentanţilor mai multor organizaţii ale diasporei române din Europa. Manifestarea urmărește stabilirea unui dialog permanent, cunoașterea reciprocă, schimb de experienţe cât şi evaluarea căilor, metodelor, posibilităţilor comunicării şi colaborării, având ca finalitate crearea unei mişcări unitare, coordonate a comunităţilor românilor din Europa, a unui BRAND al românilor din diaspora.

Pe agenda discuţiilor se află subiecte legate de:

Situaţia socio-politică şi culturală a comunităţilor românești din afara graniţelor şi relaţia lor cu autorităţile locale

Percepţia şi imaginea acestora reflectată de  mass-media şi politica locală în faţa societăţii civile

Mijloace şi forme de comunicare eficiente

Situaţia economica şi politica a  Romaniei, văzuta de romanii din diaspora.

Apropiata aniversare  a 20 de ani de emigraţie masiva, 20 de ani de speranţe, 20 de ani de corupţie şi manipulare, 20 de ani de jocuri politice

Romania în Franchising şi guvernele săptămânale

Reîntoarcerea romanilor, o speranţă pentru România, intre realitate şi utopie.

Unitatea românilor, un proiect necesar şi obligatoriu

Poziţia comună a romanilor în fata fenomenelor electorale

Au răspuns invitaţiei următoarele  organizaţii:

Partidul Iberic al Romanilor – Spania

Partidul Identitatea Romaneasca – Italia

Asociaţia Românilor din Mallorca – Spania

Asociaţia Românilor din Arbùcies – Spania

Casa Romania din Catalunia – Spania

Asociaţia pentru Difuzarea Culturii Româneşti din Parets del Valles

Asociatia Romanilor Basarabeni din Spania

Liga Studenţilor Români din Străinătate

Platforma Culturală AŞII ROMÂNI – Nuremberg

Asociaţia de Muzică şi Cultură Românească Victoria Republica Serbia

Spaţiul Niram – Madrid

Român în lume

Mişcarea NOII GOLANI

Aut Pro Rom – Graz

Asociatia Emigranţilor Români şi Moldoveni Algarve – Portugalia.

MARIN MIHAI-BLOGUL ROMANILOR DE PRETUTINDENI(http://mihaimarin.wordpress.com)

HAPPY FISH-Imnul emigrantului roman (parodie)

Între două lumi e titlul unei emisiuni radio a Loredanei Dumitraşcu la care am fost invitat de cîteva ori, dar mai e şi titlul stării pe care o am eu acum. Am migrat, iată, pe WordPress, dar nu mă simt aşa de bine. Parcă am lăsat ceva în urmă, parcă mi-e dor de casă, deşi mie nu mi-e dor niciodată de nimic şi de nimeni, cum ziceam într-un post mai vechi. Poate greşeam. Îmi închipui că aşa se simt cei ce pleacă într-o altă ţară. Plusul în ceea ce priveşte nivelul de trai nu compensează întotdeauna şi pe deplin minusul dat de ruperea a ceea ce este familiar. Ca rezultat, unii ajung să facă tot felul de lucruri pe care nu le-ar fi făcut altfel. Probabil nu aş fi scris niciodată postul anterior (care sper că nu va face să-mi pierd cititorii care au mai rămas după ce i-am pierdut pe cei ce mă citeau pe blogspot ) dacă aş fi rămas pe Blogger. Dar aşa, în virtutea anomiei (cuvîntul ăsta e inventat de Durkheim şi se referă la inabilitatea unui sistem de a impune norme comportamentale, morale etc) izvorîtă din stresul şi bucuria mutării, l-am scris.

Herta Muller a castigat premiul Nobel pentru literatura. cool! so what? nu e asa. ca daca nu se descoperea ca s-ar fi nascut in Banat nu mai dadeam asa de mare atentie faptului. asa insa, situatiunea se schimba monumental. Ne-a durut in dorsal pana azi de dna Muller dar acum ne batem cu pumnii in piept si ne impopotonam iar cum ca ”tot Banatu’i fruncea” si romanii etc etc. si, cum facem de fiecare data, o luam de la pash’opt incoa’ cu brancusii si cioranii pe care i-a dat Romania si uite frate ce tari si ce potential avem. si da-i si bate apa in piua. doar sfantul Tutea, sarmanul, ce si-a dat obstescul sfarsit intr-un pat ponosit si o camera simpla aflata pe un pamant prea romanesc si mizer. si ar mai fi cativa demni de luat aminte care-au sfarsit sfinti pe pamantul asta blestemat. si poate tocmai asta sa fi fost motivul curatarii de pacate si vini: rezistenta la gulagul natal, la miazma locala a spiritului, la noroiul sentimentului national.
in fine. n-am decat o singura parere, zic: noroc de cei care s-au carat la timp din zona asta carpato-danubiano-pontica.
cinste lor, parintilor! bafta voua, urmasilor!

Bai da baietii astia chiar sunt buni vad ca …am crezut ca au avut noroc cu filmuletul de mai jos dar asta…RESPECT!

GenealogyWise (förkortas GenWise) är ett nytt släktforsknings socialt nätverk som startades i mitten av juli. Redan i början var intresset stort och flera nya grupper bildades. Eftersom det är en amerikansk sida är språket nästan uteslutande engelska.

Det fungerar som Facebook men här är det bara släktforskning som gäller.

Själv fick jag en inbjudan av WorldVitalRecords.com eftersom jag har ett abonnemang hos dem och det är de som driver nätverket. Men dem berättar jag mer om en annan gång.

Grupper
Den första gruppen som jag gick med i är Sweden and Swedish Ancestry. Men ganska snart insåg jag att det inte funkar med med en enda grupp för hela Sverige. Så för två veckor sedan startade jag upp en för Skaraborgs län Skaraborg County Ancestry – Sweden och förra veckan blev gruppen Älvsborg County Ancestry – Sweden till. För att göra det enkelt att göra efterlysningar har jag lagt in diskussionerna kommunvis. Och för de som inte vet var vilken socken tillhör finns dessa uppräknade under respektive kommun.

Syfte
Syftet med grupperna är att fånga upp, hjälpa och skapa kontakt med svensk-amerikaner som söker sina rötter i respektive län. Kan dessutom släktingar få kontakt är det ett extra plus. Om man ska kunna göra det gäller det att göra det på ett ställe som de hittar till.

Nu är inte grupperna endast för svensk-amerikaner. Alla som söker och pratar släktforskning i resp län är välkomna.

Medlemskap
Hur blir man medlem? Det är inte så svårt. Gå in på någon av de länkar som finns under rubriken Nätverk i min länklista. Du kan läsa vad som diskuteras men för att göra något inlägg själv måste man vara medlem först. Och det hoppas jag att många av er som läser detta blir så.

Inspirera andra
Önskar att det kunde vara fler än jag som är intresserade att starta upp och driva liknande grupper för övriga delar av Sverige. Hoppas att detta inlägg på min blogg kan inspirera fler att hjälpa till. Kanske letar du efter en person som utvandrade från Karlstad eller vill hjälpa svensk-amerikaner att hitta sina rötter.

Другог дана јануара 1925. године Оскар Фогт је у свом стану  у Магдебуршкој улици бр. 16 у Берлину отворио коверту чији је пошиљалац био Лазар Соломонович Минор, руски неуропатолог који га је обавјештавао о намјери Комунистичке партије Совјетског Савеза да Лењина учини бесмртним, тако што би се његово тијело балзамовало и похранило у маузолеју. Други дио овог плана обухватао је свеобухватну анализу мозга великог комунистичког вође путем цитоархитектонског сецирања.

Господин Фогт је испио задњи гутљај чаја из шоље, погладио се по китњастој бради и погледао према прозору у којем су ријетке пахуље лелујале кроз млаз шкртог свјетла уличне свјетиљке;  угледао је у стаклу  одраз свог лица на којем је тиртрао осмјејак и није могао скрити задовољство што је за један тако свеобухватан задатак избор пао управо на њега.

Услов за пристанак који је госп. Фогт поставио био је да се у Совјетском Савезу оснује институт за истраживање мозга и да се у ту сврху образују квалификовани кадрови. Овом захтјеву је удовољено и све до 1930. године, госп. Фогт је обављао функцију директора института. Под његовоим надзором, једна асистентица из Берлина је између 1925. и 1927. године начинила 30 хиљада сецирања Лењиновог мозга у парафину.

Фогт је затупао теорију да је душевни живот човјека у потпуности одсликан у јединстеном крајолику мождане коре. На основу натпросјечне величине мозга и масовног присуства пираминдних ћелија, Фогт је извео закључак о Лењиновим натприродним асоцијативним капацитетима, тако да га је назвао атлетом асоцијација.

Премда су све ове теорије касније оповргнуте, сјетио сам се да сам некада давно чуо да се исти поступак примјењивао и у случају масовних убица; дакле, да се покушавало истражити да ли постоји нека посебна вијуга, нешто  у саставу мозга  што би указивало на законотост, на поновљивост структуралне форме код одређене групе људи. Упитао сам се да ли би се ово могло примијенити и на коцкаре, хипохондаре,  вјечите нежење, вјечите заводнике или можда вјечите емигранте… Вјечите емигранте?

Овај појам је непознат… А не би требао бити, јер све више вјерујем да би се требала дефинисати и ова категорија људи. Људи који се непрестано некуда селе и увијек вјерују да је срећа тамо гдје нису они; да  је сљедеће мјесто боравка увијек боље од претходног док и  ово сљедеће не постане претходно. Људи са крхким и уздрхталим нервним системом, нездравом склоношћу за маштањима, јалове бунџије који не подносе ауторите и у свему око себе виде неправду, лаковјерне наивчине и људе који су изгубили сваки осјећај припадања једном простору.

Тешка срца признајем да и сам припадам тој категорији људи. Моје немирно срце емигранта увијек је маштало о далеким егзотичним просторима са жестоким зимама и врелим љетима, о искреним, солидарним сународницима, невидљивим политичарима, савршеним школским и здравственим системима, хуманим радним условима који су били тамо далеко, далеко негдје … Иза седам гора и седам мора…

Сјећам се како сам 6 мјесеци прије доласка у Канаду пуштао браду и носио качкете и покушавао да дјелујем мало дивље -   канадски. Већ сам осјећао како ми вјетар брише по од сунца и студени препланулом лицу, како ми се иње хвата за браду, а ја дубоко удишем чисти канадски ваздух.  У мојим сновима већ су жуборили кристално чисти канадски потоци, симаптични гризли је у шапи држао лососа, који су се праћакали у плићацима и несташно искакали из воде,  иза дрвета их је посматрала лија, дјетлић је неуморно забијао кљун у кору…

Планирао сам, исто тако,  да свакодневно проширујем видике кроз познанства са људима са свих континената који су се слегли у један од најшароликијих градова на сјеверноамеричком континенту; да размјењујем искустава са Амишима,  Индијанцима. Да ове задње посјећујем у резерватима  гдје живе мирно, радишно и у складу са својом традицјом. Пустио бих да ми причају о својој филозофији живота, вјештинама лијечења, односу према смрти,  како суше боровнице, како праве мокасине од бизонове коже, како васпитавају дјецу да никада не повисе тон или употријебе батину, како су успјели да сачувају здарав однос према старијима да ови остану достојанствени и поштовани до краја живота… да све бих их питао,  а они би ми исцрпно одговарали; сједили бисмо прекрштених ногу на исушеној земљи у залазак сунца, пушили лулу, мени се никуда не би журило, октривао бих уз њих љепоту унутрашњег ћутања, мудрог, језгровитог  и сликовитог говорења,  фотографисали бисмо се на крају и они би ме позвати да дођем опет да заједно ћутимо и гледамо залазак сунца…

Сада након десет година, сјећам се да је једна моја ујна употребљавала израз «расквоцати се « за коке које је спремала за насађивање на јаја, а оне којима то није било суђено, њих би  «отквоцала» и то тако што би их полила водом да им убије мајчински инстинкт.  Мислим да би се исти поступак требао примијенити и на вјечите емигранте – дакле, кад почну да булазне о далеким просторима у којима је све боље, треба им нпр. умјесто романтичних слика снијегом завејаних пејсажа у Канади о којима сањају и које замишљају да ће их дочекати,  приказати три метра високе прљаве ледене громаде сњежних наслага покрај излоканих аутопутева; умјесто Индијанаца у питомим селима у резерватима у народним ношњама са вучије здравим зубима, савршеним теном, гипким мишићавим тијелима, требало би им показати крезубе алкохоличаре тужних очију у којима се одсликава сав бол отетог идентитета и понижености коју су им нанијели бљедолики англосаксонци, и који ни ријечи не знају прозборити на матерњем језику, како глуваре у замазаном и дроњавом џинсу поред једне цркве у Торонту и просе. Или како у  резерватима шверцају цигарете, не тријезне се и међусобно се тамане до коначног истребљења.

Требало би им приказати и слике овдашњих отужних, прашњавих, загушљивих фабричких хала са немилосрдним, окрутним пословођама који су продали душу ђаволу тј. власнику фирме или канадска градилишта са очајницима који раде без било какве заштите и осигурања. И,  размишњам нешто, да овдашњи борци за људска права и не требају иђи тако далеко по туђим земљама у своје мисије под окриљем УН-а. Имали би они итекако штошта наћи и овдје у Канади – по фабрикама, градилиштима, продавницама, складиштима гдје очајници и дјеца раде за мизерију од плате, по  несносним врућинама, непровјетреним просторима, у влатитој опреми, властитим алатом, без честитог стола да поједу храну коју су сами донијели од куће…

По мени и хуманост радних услова,  минимум заштите и достојанство на радном мјесту и осјећај да ниси изручен вољи гуликожа, варалица и мафијаша представља подједнако елеменат људских права као и слобода да се смијеш окренути трипут око себе и полугласно рећи да је неки политичар будала,  што се овдје сматра врхунцем демократије. Чујем, нажалост, да се овај англо-саксонски пелцер итекако добро прима и на Балкану, стим да тамо људи раде уз све горе набројане нељудскости и без материјалне надокнаде.

Но, не вјерујем да би сва та убјеђивања дала било какве резултате, јер вјечити емигрант је безнадежно болесно оптимистичан и он у своју свијест пропушта само информације које му одговарају… Он је попут сомнабулисте који хода по симсу испод спаваће собе, мјесечина га обасјава, пиџама се лелуја на њему, укућани испод се држе за главу и Бога моле да се врати натраг у собу, али он иде ли иде… А сви се боје кад би га пробудили да би се могао стровалити са висине и тиме направити још већу несрећу…

И зато сам и почео ову причу  са сецирањем мозга, јер можда би једино то помогло да се открије који је то чеони режањ, пирамидна ђелија или која вијуга заслужна за овај синдром вјечне потраге за сретнијим просторима… Па да се људима помогне…Мислим вјечитим емигрантима…

Don Quijote por Pablo Picasso

Muchas de las personas que nos hemos marchado lejos de casa hemos sufrido una especie de ruptura emocional con nuestros países o regiones de origen. Algunos han abandonado sus países debido a una desilusión con la sociedad donde vivían. Otros tal vez se fueron por curiosidad, por placer o por tener una experiencia diferente, y una vez fuera se enamoraron del nuevo mundo de posibilidades que acababan de descubrir, a cuyo lado sus propios países les parecieron poco.

Yo creo que es una fase que muchos inmigrantes experiencian. Lo importante es superar esta fase, es decir, reconciliarse con el país de origen. Si no, nunca se seráverdaderamente internacional y nunca se será feliz.

He visto muchos inmigrantes hispanos en EEUU que no han querido transmitir el castellano a sus hijos. Yo creo que este es un error, no solamente porque priva a los hijos de un patrimonio lingüístico que les será muy útil en su proceso de maduración y en su futuro profesional, sino, sobre todo, porque los padres están negando sus orígenes, sus verdaderas personalidades, y, en definitiva, se están negando a sí mismos.

En la mayoría de los casos, la reconciliación con sus orígenes es un proceso de desarrollo personal y de madurez que llega tarde o temprano. En otras ocasiones puede haber catalizadores que nos ayuden a reconciliarnos, como por ejemplo, amigos del país de origen, el cine, la literatura, el arte… Por ejemplo, en mi caso, este catalizador fue un libro: El Quijote.

Don Quijote también sufrió sus fases de ruptura y de reconciliación. Rompió con sus orígenes cuando salió de casa en busca de aventuras, como yo hice cuando fui a Alemania y a Francia, pero fue tan abierto de miras que con el tiempo se reconcilió con sí mismo y se volvió cuerdo otra vez. Don Quijote, para mí, es un modelo a seguir, un hombre visionario, justiciero, tolerante, abierto de miras, transgresor, aventurero, perseverante, innovador… Don Quijote me hizo re-descubrir estos valores y me ayudó a superar mi fase de ruptura.

(GREEK NEWS AGENDA)  The emigrant Hellenism demographically is almost half of Greece’s population (6 million approximately). The Secretariat General for Greeks abroad together with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs cooperate closely to ensure that the Greek diaspora remains connected and the ties with the motherland stay strong.  Every year, summer camps for children of Greek descent get organised at various parts of Greece. The first session of this year’s camp, where  some 720 youngsters from 51 countries around the world had been invited, has been successfully completed.  The children took history and mythology classes and participated in various recreational activities.  Deputy Foreign Minister for Greeks Abroad, Theodore Kassimis commented: “It is moving to be here with so many Greek children from every corner of the world, and even more so because this year in particular we have children with us from Chile and Uruguay.   These are children who love Greece, are taught Greek daily, and we brought them here to get a first-hand experience of the country they love and cherish.”

Jurnalul unui emigrant – viata in Canada : 12. Aug. -Ne-am cumparat o casa noua in Canada . Sunt foarte emotionat. Aici e atat de frumos. Muntii sunt de o splendoare nedescrisa. Abia astept sa ii vad acoperiti de zapada. 14. Oct. – Canada . E cea mai frumoasa tara de pe Pamant. Frunzele s-au colorat toate in acele minunate nuante de galben si portocaliu. M-am plimbat cu masina prin natura si am vazut cativa cerbi. Sunt atat de gratiosi. Cerbii sunt cele mai frumoase animale. Cred ca am ajuns in paradis. Iubesc Canada . 11. Nov. – In curand incepe vanatoarea cerbilor. Nu imi vine sa cred ca cineva poate sa ucida un animal atat de frumos. Sper ca va ninge in curand. E atat de frumos aici. 2. Dec. -Azi noapte a nins pentru prima oara. M-am sculat si am vazut ca este alb peste tot ca in cele mai frumoase vederi. Am iesit afara, am curatat in fata casei si apoi ne-am batut cu bulgari de zapada (eu am castigat). Cand a trecut masina de curatat zapada am curatat din nou in fata curtii. Tara deosebita! Iubesc Canada ! 12. Dec. -Azi noapte a nins iarasi. Masina a curatat zapada din nou. Ne-a blocat intrarea in curte. Aici e splendid. 19. Dec. -Azi noapte a nins iarasi. N-am putut sa scot masina sa merg la lucru. Aici e intr-adevar foarte frumos numai ca sunt obosit de curatat zapada. Din nou masina aia blestemata. 22.Dec. -Cacatul asta alb nu s-a oprit toata noaptea. Am bataturi la maini de la lopata si ma doare spatele. Aceasta maimuta cu masina parca se ascunde dupa colt si doar asteapta sa termin de curatat in fata curtii ca sa vina iar. La naiba!. 25. Dec. -Craciun Fericit, pe naiba!. A nins din nou zapada asta nenorocita. Daca il prind pe obsedatul ala cu masina il omor. F… muma-n c.. …… ca nu arunca mai multa sare pe sosele!. 27. Dec. -Azi noapte iarasi zapada. Nu ies de trei zile din casa doar dau cu lopata intr-una dupa ce trece masina. Nu pot pleca nicaieri, masina este blocata sub un deal de zapada si mai e si foarte frig pe deasupra. Au spus ca la noapte vor mai cadea inca 30 cm de cacatul asta de zapada. 28. Dec. -Prognoza a fost proasta. S-au mai depus 50 cm in loc de 30 cm. Daca se continua asa nu se va topi pana la vara. Masina de curatat a ramas blocata si maimutoiul a venit la mine sa imi ceara lopata. I-am spus ca am rupt deja 6 curatand rahatul ce mi l-a aruncat in fata curtii. Era cat pe ce sa ii dau si cu lopata in cap. 4. Jan. -Am iesit din casa in sfarsit. M-am dus pana la alimentara sa cumpar de mancare si la intoarcere am lovit un cerb. Auto avariat in valoare de $3000. Bestiile de cerbi trebuie omorate. Sunt peste tot. De ce oare nu i-au omorat vanatorii toamna trecuta? 3. Mai -Am dus masina la mecanic. Incredibil cat de mult a ruginit de la sarea aia nenorocita aruncata peste tot ca sa topeasca zapada si tot degeaba. 10. Mai -Ma mut inapoi in Romania . Nu imi pot imagina cum cineva normal poate trai in Canada asta!!!!!!! Jurnalul unui emigrant – intoarcerea in tara : 8 Dec. Aterizez pe frumosul Otopeni. Nici nu ies bine ca sunt inconjurat de co-nationali romi-romani care imi smulg bagajele din mana: “Lasa-ma boierule sa te ajut la masina”. Vai ce primitoare tara ! Imi dau lacrimile! Nu am lei asa ca le dau dolari. Cu siguranta, privatizarea in Romania e pe cale buna. 15 Dec. Nici urma de zapada! Cald si bine! Umblu in canadiana subtire! Ca iubitor de animale, aici e de mine! Un grup de 10 caini ma inconjoara de fiecare data cand ies din bloc si ma conduc spre tramvai (adevarul e ca ma cam fugaresc). Nu mai duc viata sedentara din Canada cand ma urcam imediat in masina din garajul subteran. Ce era sa fac?! Tentatia era mare caci benzina era mult mai ieftina! Sunt fericit ca m-am intors! Cel mai bun pas facut in viata! Imi caut un apartament! 31 Dec. Aproape am uitat cum arata zapada! Ce frumos e! Maine e Anul Nou! Am facut aceleasi aprovizionari ca in Canada dar m-a costat dublu! Ce bine ca am strans destui bani in Canada !!! Inca mai stau cu restul familiei intr-un apartament de 2 camere. In Canada i se spunea “one bedroom apartment” dar aici nu avem incotro si folosim si sufrageria ca dormitor! E sublim! Cu totii ne simtim asa aproape unii de altii (si la propriu si la figurat)! 3 Ian. Gata! E cazul sa-mi caut de lucru. Bine ca e soare afara si chiar stam cu geamurile deschise caci termostatul termocentralei si-a pus in gand sa ne usuce ca pe mumii! Aici nu-ti poti regla caldura dupa voie. Ce dor imi era de transportul in comun! Aproape uitasem de mirosurile imbietoare! Noroc cu cainii caci am prins si eu tramvaiul! Noroc ca l-am prins si am scapat de caini, dar ghinion ca m-am urcat fiindca am fost jefuit in aglomeratie. Parca era mai bine cu masina! 9 Ian. Mi-am gasit un servici cu 400$. Pe langa media de 150$, sunt meserias! Nu gasesc nimic de inchiriat. Chiriile sunt scumpe, mancarea e scumpa, telefonul ma usuca iar benzina tocmai s-a scumpit! Dar ce-mi pasa mie caci oricum nu mai am masina! De doua zile nu mai avem nici apa calda nici rece. Cica e seceta! Mai bine ningea cand trebuia sau se luau masuri cand s-a anuntat seceta! 3 Febr. Mi-am luat masina si sunt fericit! A trebuit sa caut in dictionar cuvantul “spaga” si l-am gasit ca slang. Inseamna “tip” or “gratuity” cu diferenta ca aici nu poti obtine nimic fara asa ceva. Cred ca toate spagile la un loc fac cat 1/2 din masina. Nu mai mentionez lupta pentru inregistrarea masinii si nenumaratele birouri la care a trebuit sa ma duc cu tramvaiul. Nu a fost o idee buna cu masina caci benzina iar s-a scumpit. Parca si in Canada fluctua pretul dar si in jos nu numai in sus! 10 Mart. Azi a plouat in sfarsit! Mi-am schimbat deja amortizoarele la masina din cauza strazilor. Apa acopera gaurile si nu ai cum sa le ocolesti. Nu exista canalizare! Ba da, caci am vazut o tanti luand apa dintr-o balta cu cana si o punea intr-o galeata! Asta da privatizare! Cam ineficienta, e adevarat, dar sa mai zica Vestul ca nu avem initiative! Am calcat intr-o groapa si cred ca mi-am rupt glezna. M-am urcat in masina si, pentru ca nu e automata am apasat pe ambreiaj cu umbrela. M-am indreptat spre Urgenta urmarind o Salvare care, la un moment dat si-a deschis usile si a dat drumul la un om sa cada pe strada. Nimeni nu a bagat de seama. Am ajuns la Urgenta de unde a trebuit sa fug la farmacie sa-mi cumpar radiografii, bandaje si un sac de ghips. A inceput sa arate cam lugubru pe aici. 9 Apr. Inca nu pot merge la servici din cauza gleznei asa ca imi voi deschide un business acasa! Nu se poate caci imi trebuie prea multe hartii care se obtin de la 5 birouri localizate in 5 cartiere diferite. Nu am cum sa o fac prin internet ca in Canada! Dar noroc ca am masina! Stiam eu ca nu am luat-o de pomana! 10 Apr. Ma uit pe geam la masina mea din fata blocului si observ ca arata cam ciudat. Cobor si constat ca era schioapa de o roata, oarba de oglinzile retrovizoare si violata la portbagaj. Chem militia (pardon, politia) si ii astept in statia de tramvai caci nu aveau benzina pentru masinile lor recent achizitionate. Voi vinde masina! 1 Mai Cald afara iar in casa e si mai cald. Acum nici nu pot deschide geamurile caci la coltul blocului e un caine mort intrat in putrefactie de aproape o saptamana care miroase rau si nimeni nu il ia. In schimb, masina mi-a disparut aproape complet. Numai caroseria mai sta marturie a ceea ce a fost odata “masina mea”. Daca stiam, bagam cainele putrezit in ea si poate disparea si el! Trebuie sa fi venit primavara in Canada! Maine imi iau bilet. 2 Mai Am incercat sa-mi iau bilet dar cel mai curand e peste 2-a luni….. Doamne, cati Romani pleaca! Ii inteleg. 13 Iun. Imi dau seama ca ACASA e acum Canada unde e zapada cand trebuie sa fie zapada, unde e soare cand trebuie sa fie soare, unde imi pot lasa masina deschisa si cu cheile in ea pe strada, unde caini gasesti doar de cumparat sau pe gratis de la magazine, unde nu sunt injurat pe strada, unde nu sunt gropi sa-mi rup picioarele, unde imi pot controla temperatura in casa, unde am aer conditionat, unde vanzatoarele au placerea de a ma servi si nu bunavointa de a-mi face un serviciu, unde soarele se reflecta in geamurile zgarie-norilor si nu in gunoaiele de pe strada, unde “spaga” nu exista decat printre grupurile de emigranti care vor sa transforme Canada in Romania, China, Uganda, unde lumea iti spune “Yes, please”, “No, please” si “Excuse me” in loc de “Da nu vezi, de ce mai intrebi?”, “Nu ba!” si “Uita-te ba pe unde mergi, bai ochelaristule”, unde in caz de urgenta sosesc politia (in masini), pompierii si salvarea in acelasi timp. Poate nici Canada nu e perfecta dar macar acolo mai sunt inca oameni care lupta pentru acest lucru. 1 Dec. E clar ca toate greselile se platesc! Nu am realizat ca am depasit cele 6 luni cat aveam dreptul sa stau in afara Canadei si prin urmare mi s-a refuzat intrarea….

Vid soldattorpet nr 96 i Borgunda

En artikel skriven av mig publicerades i dagens Falköpings Tidning (11 juli).

I soldat Gustaf Fälts spår

Tre besökare från Aurora i Colorado, USA gästade Falköping under ett par dagar under midsommarveckan för att gå i sin anfader soldaten Gustaf Fälts fotspår.

Det var Katherine Watts som hade med sig sin mamma och morfar. Katherine blev i december förra året vald till Lucia Queen 2009 i The Swedish Club of Denver, CO.  Som Lucia fick hon en resa till Sverige och hon bjöd då även med de andra två på resan. Katherines hästintresse gjorde att de under vistelsen i Falköping bodde på Liden i Slutarp, där hon fick rida på gårdens hästar.
En dag var avsatt till att få veta mer om deras anfader Gustaf Fält, som var soldat bl a i Borgunda.

Besökte soldattorpen
Resan började vid Garnisonsmuseet i Skövde, där Björn Lippold tog emot. Därefter reste sällskapet till Borgunda till ursprungsplatsen där soldattorp nr 96 legat på Knektagatan och där Gustaf Fält var soldat. På 1940-talet flyttades soldattorpet av Elsa Lindblom till Brobacka. Herkela heter platsen och namnet kommer ifrån det andra soldattorpet som finns där och knekten Herkel.
Sällskapet var även vid platsen där soldattorpet nr 35 i Friggeråker legat och som var sista soldattorpet som soldat Fält verkade vid. Idag finns bara källan kvar bland snåren i skogen. Vid detta torp avled Gustaf 1876 vid en ålder av 43 år. Han efterlämnade 6 barn varav det yngsta barnet var 3 veckor gammalt.

“Fältska huset” i Falköping
Med på upptäcktsresan var även en syssling från Stockholm som rest ner för att träffa sina amerikanska släktingar. Hennes familj ägde mellan åren 1923-1981 det hus som är känt som ”Fältska huset” vid Stora torget i Falköping. En hyresgäst lät sällskapet komma in och titta.
Sista stoppet var ett besök på St Olofs kyrkogård, där familjen Fält ligger begravd, däribland Beata Maria, gift med Gustaf Fält och mor till tre utvandrare.
Det var tack vare en artikel i en svensk-amerikanska släktforskningstidskrift som kontakten kunde göras mellan släktforskaren Annelie Jonsson och Ronald Swenson. De har haft kontakt via e-post fram till besöket och skickat information till varandra.
Till sin hjälp för att hitta de aktuella platserna har de haft hjälp av personer med lokalkännedom, som Märta Carlsson som visade runt i Borgunda.

Faktarutan:
Gustaf Fält F 1833 i Borgunda D 1876 i Friggeråker. Gift med Beata Maria Larsdotter 1838-1912 född i Dala. Makarna hade sex barn varav de tre äldsta emigrerade till Rockford, IL. Ronald Swensons farmor Elisabeth emigrerade eftersom hon hade sin fästman i Rockford. De hade presenterats för varandra av hennes bror, då han var hemma på besök i Falköping och tagit med sig en skolkamrat från möbelsnickarutbildningen i Stockholm. De förlovade sig dagen före fästmannen och broderns avresa  till Rockford 1888. Men då fästmannen i sina brev hem talade om att söka amerikanskt medborgarskap beslutade sig Elisabet att även hon skulle emigrera 1889.

Idag finns inga ättlingar kvar i Falköping till Gustaf Fält. De har skingrats och bor numera bl a i Askersund, Stockholm och USA.

There is a curious behaviour being displayed by many people, more often than not on the internet where these individuals can hide behind screens and false names for obvious reasons, but also outside of that, on the streets and in universities etc.. This behaviour is one of adopting a non-questioning or an absolute truth kind of attitude, where one thing is right because it is right and therefore an opposing opinion to that one thing is always wrong, and there is no balancing, no challenge, no arguments for and against but simply a straight ahead acceptance of whatever has been said and/or implied (by presence/non-presence).

Now self-confidence, confidence, pride that’s all very good but only to certain extents. Australia(1)  in general is a much racialist country which naturally is due to the large numbers of immigrants and otherwise foreigners within its borders. Consider also the fact that the only actual non-immigrants in Australia are still today being much marginalised either intentionally and directly or unintentionally and indirectly. Yet for some reason the older emigrants feel that they are more entitled to the land than later emigrants, the result of which can been seen in the many examples, among one very direct example would be the eggs and worse stones that are being thrown at mainly Asians at night by passers in rusty, run-down cars and plenty of interesting words being shouted every now and then (no excuse for drunken boredom killer activity). Surely this cannot be the case for every single Australian (‘white-Australian’) citizen but there appears to be something in this fear of change/new things/multi-culture that grows a bit deeper and runs, spreads through many more people than just those few egg throwing simpletons.

The idea is about a sort of illusion of perfection or flawlessness, a sort of blinding patriotism that says “we are better than anyone else, we are proud of it and there is nothing whatever need for change in any aspect either within the society in itself, interaction, communication, general attitudes, image, people etc. or that which is directly related to it by way of marketing, industry, technology, development etc.”, basically, regardless of the level of truth in such a statement the illusion says that there is no need for any evaluation or further questioning. There is an obvious lack of perspective, no sense of real perspective, a closed in vision of constant one-upmanship. “Do not put our ways of thinking to the test, because we know best, and so by that sheer fact we don’t need your opinion”, and if their ways of thinking would be put to the test and proven inferior to an alternative a defence mechanism automatically sets in. This defence comes in the form of an arrogance where the pretence again is “we’re right, you’re wrong” and a picking out of whatever minor flaw that might be detectable but most often completely irrelevant or something derived from a misinterpretation and twisted around to be made to look in a certain way, normally the opposite of what was the intention. Ignoring the actual issue and sweeping it over with black painted irrelevant countermeasures. It’s a nationalistic narcissism where the people (selected groups of people) are offended by the mere idea of anyone questioning their values, and their vision of their own community, society and structuring.

The problem of course comes down to the same problem as with any other people with a wide spread common delusional view of the world (i.e. religious, superstitious, and otherwise mentally enclosed/sheltered persons) which is that of non-reasoning, a dangerous thing which cannot be changed by anything else than enlightenment or self-realisation on the part of the delusional individual, step by step. You cannot argue with someone who does not believe in arguementation. You cannot reason with someone who does not apply reason to their own thinking. My concern is how do we solve this standstill, this stasis, this limiting blockage in the progress of ‘evolution’ (in every sense of the word)? Is it simply an ‘afraid of the dark’ situation? Or is it something more, a competitive stubbornness in a competition without competitors? A nonsensical contradiction?

Be proud but not to the extent that nothing else matters, not to the extent of blindness, not to the extent of selective vision, it does not benefit you and it does not benefit anyone else.

*

Again there are a few obvious responses to this post even though I have already referred to those, and which are a diversion and a further misinterpretation and then following would be a defensive offence to further diverting the subject and the overall issue which in turn is unproductive and nothing but definite confirmation of the above stated thoughts.

1 (Australia is being used as the main example since this is where I have seen the behaviour described in a most prominent manner, yet the idea could most likely be stretched to include many other nations/communities and other situations as well.)

The Messenger of Allah (Peace be upon him) arrived in Madinah on Friday, 12th Rabi‘ Al-Awwal 1 Hijri, i.e. September 27th. 622 A.D.

On Friday morning, the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him), sent for Bani An-Najjar, his maternal uncles, to come and escort him and Abu Bakr to Madinah. He rode towards the new headquarters amidst the cordial greetings of his Madinese followers who had lined his path. He halted at a place in the vale of Banu Salim and there he performed his Friday prayer with a hundred others. (Bukhari 1/555)

Meanwhile the tribes and families of Madinah, the new name for Yathrib and a short form of ‘The Messenger’s Madinah (City)’, came streaming forth, and vied with one another in inviting the noble visitor to their homes. The girls of the Madinese used to chant beautiful verses of welcome rich in all meanings of obedience and dutifulness to the new Messenger.

Though not wealthy, every Ansar (Helper) was wholeheartedly eager and anxious to receive the Messenger in his house. It was indeed a triumphal procession. Around the camel of Muhammad (Peace be upon him) and his immediate followers, rode the chiefs of the city in their best raiment and in glittering armour, everyone saying: “Alight here O Messenger of Allah, abide by us.” Muhammad (Peace be upon him) used to answer everyone courteously and kindly: “This camel is commanded by Allah, wherever it stops, that will be my abode.”

The camel moved onward with slackened rein, reached the site of the Prophetic Mosque and knelt down. He did not dismount until it rose up again, went on forward, turned back and then returned to kneel down in the very former spot. Here, he alighted in a quarter inhabited by Banu Najjar, a tribe related to the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) from the maternal side. In fact, it was his wish to honour his maternal uncles and live among them. The fortunate host, Abu Ayyub Al-Ansari, stepped forward with unbounded joy for the Divine blessing appropriated to him, welcomed the Noble Guest and solicited him to enter his house.

A few days later, there arrived the Prophet’s spouse Sawdah, his two daughters Fatimah and Umm Kulthum, Usama bin Zaid, Umm Aiman, ‘Abdullah — son of Abu Bakr with Abu Bakr’s house-hold including ‘Aishah (RA). Zainab was not able to emigrate and stayed with her husband Abi Al-‘As till Badr Battle. (Bukhari 1/556)

‘Aishah (RA) said: “When the Messenger of Allah (Peace be upon him) arrived in Madinah , both Abu Bakr and Bilaal fell ill. I used to attend to their needs. When the fever took firm grip of Abu Bakr he used to recite verses of poetry that smacked of near death; Bilaal, when the fit of fever alleviated, would also recite verses of poetry that pointed to clear homesickness.”

‘Aishah (RA) added: “I briefed the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) on their grave situation, and he replied: O Allah, we entreat You to establish in our hearts a strong love for Madinah equal to that we used to have for Makkah, or even more. O Allah, bless and increase the wealth of Madinah and we beseech You to transmute its rotten mud into wholesome edible fat.” (Bukhari 1/588)

The first task to which the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) attended on his arrival in Madinah was the construction of a Mosque, in the very site where his camel knelt down. The land, which belonged to two orphans, was purchased. The Prophet (Peace be upon him) himself contributed to building the Mosque by carrying adobe bricks and stones while reciting verses:

“O Allah! no bliss is there but that of the Hereafter, I beseech you to forgive the Emigrants and Helpers.”

The ground was cleared, of weeds and shrubs, palm trees and rubbish, the graves of the polytheists dug up and then levelled and the trees planted around. The Qiblah (the direction in which the Muslims turn their faces in prayer) was constructed to face Jerusalem; two beams were also erected to hold the ceiling up. It was square in form, each side measuring approximately 100 yards, facing towards the north and having three gates on each of the remaining sides. Nearby, rooms reserved for the Prophet’s household were built of stones and adobe bricks with ceilings of palm leaves. (Al Bukhari 1/71,555,560; Za’d Al-Ma’ad 2/56)

To the north of the Mosque a place was reserved for the Muslims who had neither family nor home. The Adhan (summoning the Muslims to the Mosque by the Call for prayer) was initiated at this early stage of post-migration era. The Mosque was not merely a locus to perform prayers, but rather an Islamic league where the Muslim’s were instructed in Islam and its doctrines. It served as an assembly place where the conflicting pre-Islamic trends used to come to terms; it was the headquarter wherein all the affairs of the Muslims were administered, and consultative and executive councils held.

The Mosque being thus constructed, the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) next turned his attention to cementing the ties of mutual brotherhood amongst the Muslims of Madinah, Al-Ansar (the Helpers) and Al-Muhajirun (the Emigrants). It was indeed unique in the history of the world. A gathering of 90 men, half of whom Emigrants and the others Helpers assembled in the house of Anas bin Malik where the Prophet Muhammad [pbuh] gave the spirit of brotherhood his official blessing. When either of the two persons who had been paired as brothers, passed away, his property was inherited by his brother-in-faith. This practice continued till the following verse was revealed at the time of the battle of Badr, and the regular rule of inheritance was allowed to take its usual course:

“…But kindred by blood are nearer to one another regarding inheritance.” (Surah Al Anfal 8:75)

“Brotherhood-in-faith” to quote Muhammad Al-Ghazali again, “was holding subordinate every distinction of race and kindred and supporting the Islamic precept: none is superior to the other except on the basis of piety and God-fearing.”

The Prophet (Peace be upon him) attached to that brotherhood a valid contract; it was not just meaningless words but rather a valid practice relating to blood and wealth rather than a passing whim taking the form of accidental greeting.

The atmosphere of brotherhood and fellow-feeling created a spirit of selflessness infused deeply in the hearts of his followers, and produced very healthy results. For example, Sa‘d bin Ar-Rabi‘, a Helper, said to his fellow brother ‘Abdur Rahman bin ‘Awf, “I am the richest man amongst the Helpers. I am glad to share my property half and half with you. I have two wives, I am ready to divorce one and after the expiry of her ‘Iddah, (the prescribed period for a woman divorcee to stay within her house unmarried) you may marry her.” But ‘Abdur Rahman bin ‘Awf was not prepared to accept anything: neither property nor home. So he blessed his brother and said: “Kindly direct me to the market so that I may make my fortune with my own hands.” And he did prosper and got married very shortly by his own labour.

The Helpers were extremely generous to their brethren-in-faith. Abu Hurairah reported that they once approached the Prophet (Peace be upon him) with the request that their orchards of palm trees should be distributed equally between the Muslims of Madinah and their brethren from Makkah. But the Prophet (Peace be upon him) was reluctant to put this heavy burden upon them. It was, however, decided that the Emigrants would work in the orchards alongwith the Helpers and the yield would be divided equally amongst them.

Such examples point directly to the spirit of sacrifice, altruism and cordiality on the part of the Helpers, and also to the feeling of appreciation, gratitude and self-respect that the Emigrants held dear to their hearts. They took only what helped them eke a reasonable living. In short, this policy of mutual brotherhood was so wise and timely that many obstinate problems were resolved wonderfully and reasonably.

The Sealed Nectar
Safi-ur Rahman Al-Mubarakpuri
Islamic University Al-Madinah Al-Munawwarah

Also Read:
Hazrat Bilaal (RA) – The Muazzin
2nd Holiest Place : Masjid Al Nabawi in Madinah

The tea and coffee issue! It’s grave enough in one’s own country, but when going abroad it becomes a matter of life and death. For example, the first time when we went to the South of Europe with Luke, to Croatia, we couldn’t find black tea anywhere, and suffered withdrawal symptoms. The same thing happened on a trip to Montenegro, but we were better prepared mentally. We traveled by trains, and when after 30 hours we’d finally crossed the border between Hungary and Slovakia, we were immensely happy to be back in the North – the restaurants were serving normal lemon tea.

This is a big issue in my opinion. I consider myself a person who travels a lot and can accept the differences; I like to think that I’m not prejudiced, just big-mouthed. But here I go: lemon tea is most obviously normal, isn’t it?

The same problem happens in reverse: to people who travel from the South up – they miss the coffee and can’t stand the quantities of black tea that we serve. And it looks as though I’ve picked this southern coffee custom up effortlessly – now I whine and whinge about both tea and coffee in England.

What can be bad about the global capital of tea’s tea customs, you’d ask? For example – they are not really one. In Poland we drink tea and juice all the time, and it is actually more than in England. This does not make us the capital of tea either. In my opinion the title still lies with the Far East.

The kind of tea that we are accustomed to in Poland is different than here. It’s less potent and bitterer. You can find the difference out easily – just buy a bag of Tetley from the UK, and a box of Tetley in Poland. They are not similar. But that is to be expected since even cokes and sodas taste different in each country in the world. The origins of this difference in preference are in the 18th century and first trade contacts with China – the tea that was ordered by Polish merchants came via Russian plains, in caravans and later trains. It came from the inland provinces. The tea that was marketed in England was brought in on ships by the British mercantile fleet, and originated from southern and seaside provinces.

In the 20th century the tea in Poland was no longer ordered from China, it was obtained from the Soviets, and in most cases very bad. The long custom of savouring tea was almost ruined. Luckily after the return to life and emergence from the grave of a centrally planned economy, we now have many small tea rooms that serve hundreds of kinds of teas.

The main difference about English teas is their, incomprehensible for me, insistence on adding milk, as if it was not bad enough already. So when trying to drink tea while being out in town, I always watch the servers like a hawk, to yell at them if they make a smallest indication that milk will be poured in my tea. Big no-no.

Not only is their taste in tea different, but they also like very bitter coffee; black as the conscience of a retired gangster and bitter as tears of an ugly virgin. In that case milk won’t help anyway. And there are only two brands: Nescafe and Kenco. Kenco is worse (subjectively).

I had usually resorted to importing jars of Jacobs and Davidoff coffee from Poland, because for some reason the Polish deli’s only sell cheap stuff, like Tchibo Family. But I’ve not been in Poland since February, because I’m in a state of war with my family. So it seems that the direct consequence of not heeding my parents in the lack of good coffee in my life.

What can I do? I better get used to the Nesca. I’m close to making it almost bearable. One needs to pour boiling water in a cold mug, 2/3 capacity. Then add half a spoon of brown sugar, and one spoon of coffee. Not a very full spoon. Begin stirring and poring milk with the other hand at the same time. Fill the rest of the mug with milk. That process does not allow the coffee to be heated too much, and go bitter.

Bitter is the life of an emigrant. Sigh.

I posted the very first rough mockup of the title song for the next project: ‘Emigrant’.

Here is the MySpace link
Emigrant mp3

In the work process for this song I began with a single loop and hoped to discover a hook of some kind around which the remainder of the song will be written.

I can already feel a bit Celtic vibe in there with the pan flute and double reed instruments along with a sense of journey.

Next will come the rough editing to ferret out the hooks and begin a proto arrangement.

Stick around.

Utvandrarnas Hus

På Emigrant Institutet eller som det egentligen heter Utvandrarnas Hus var det i söndags Minnesotadagen.  Det var för 42:a gången som det anordnades.  Själv var jag där för första gången och inte kommer det bli den sista heller! Det var en upplevelse att vara där.

Det var förutom jag själv, mina föräldrar samt en släkting som styrde bilen tidigt mot Växjö söndag morgon.

Carl Boberg

Dagen började med en gudstjänst kl 11.00 i domkyrkan på både svenska o engelska och som traditionen bjuder hälsar man på bekanta och nya bekantskaper. Det var bl a Carl Boberg, en svensk-amerikan som jag träffade sommaren 2007 vid The Swedish Institute vid midsommarfirandet på min och min mammas resa i USA när vi hälsade på släkten.  Ulf Beijbom med fru kom till kyrkan, hon i årets hatt. Under gudstjänsten gjorde Ingemar Nordström en av sina fåtal årliga framträdande och spelade på sin saxofon.

Utanför kyrkan serverades det sedan kyrkkaffe men vi åkte till Växjö golfbana och åt lunch i stället. Vi kom tillbaka lagom till att själva firandet av Minnesotadagen skulle börja kl. 14.00 i Utvandrarnas hus.

Representant från USAs ambassad

En släktforskarkollega väntade vid dörren och höll upp plats för mig och honom själv där inne.  Sedan väntade en rad talare. Huvudtalare var Thage G Peterson, fd försvarsminister och talman i riksdagen. Fler som var med: Växjö manskör, SEI:s ordförande Harald Runblom Uppsala och en representant från USAs ambassad i Sverige. Den här killen hade varit i Sverige i tre år och kunde prata bra svenska.

Huvudnumret var utdelande det 50:e priset av årets Svensk-Amerikan som delas ut av Vasa Orden av America. I år var det Anne-Charlotte Harvey San Diego född i Stockholm (se artikel i Värmlands Tidningen). Hon är bl a känd för att varit med i projektet “Olle i skratthult” som drevs på 1970-talet i Minneapolis.  Numera innehar hon en professur i teater och musik på San Diego State University.

Årets Svensk-Amerikan 2009, pristagaren Ann-Charlotte Harvey vid tavlan till höger.

Anne-Charlotte bjöd på ett fängslande tal, där hon tillskrev att det var de svensk-amerikanska tidningarna i USA som angav vilken bild som gavs av Sverige i USA. Redaktörerna på tidningarna klippte och klistrade ur svenska dagstidningar. Det var lättsamma artiklar, såsom en häst som råkade i sken och bonden slängdes in i en trädgård där tvättlinan tog bonden av daga. Talet blandades även med historier, bl a den med mannen som köpte en såg och inte fattade att det var en motorsåg.

Artiklarna i tidningarna gjorde att många svensk-amerikaner fick uppfattning om att Sverige hamnade på efterkälken när det gäller utvecklingen och inte utvecklades i samma takt som USA.

Efter Ann-Charlotte var det dags för utdelandet av Charlotta-medaljen. En medalj som delas ut till den som har gjort mycket för Emigrant Institutet.

Efter att programmet var klart gick vi en runda i utställningen och till bokhandeln. Köpte en bok om Svenskar i Winnepeg för 25 kronor. Fikade och sedan bar det av hemåt mot Falköping.