Go hungry. Anywhere

"Ich kann überall hungern"

A quote that stuck to my brain while taking German literature classes and the great Mr Brecht, who made a huge impression on me. Not surprisingly some years later I was casually listening to a music selection when a band and its style made the same huge impression. The Dresden Dolls calls its musical style "Bretchian cabaret". Justified. Bitte schön.

Back in the 00's Joaquin and I used to spend extra hours interpreting Bretchian texts or maybe in Joaquin's case just trying to impress the icy beauty of the literature teacher (échame un cable en los comentarios si lees esto, que seguro que tú te acuerdas de su nombre ;-)) while winning my 'ternura". Hombre de lenguas... ya sabemos :-*

But this quote, for German speakers, was worth deciphering and worth the classroom hours. No wonder it stuck on me. Forever.

• "Herr K. hielt es nicht für nötig, in einem bestimmten Land zu leben. Er sagte: "Ich kann überall hungern." Eines Tages aber ging er durch eine Stadt, die vom Feind des Landes besetzt war, in dem er lebte. Da kam ihm entgegen ein Offizier dieses Feindes und zwang ihn, vom Bürgersteig herunter zu gehen. Herr K. ging herunter und nahm an sich wahr, daß er gegen diesen Mann empört war; und zwar nicht nur gegen diesen Mann, sondern besonders gegen das Land, dem der Mann angehörte; also daß er wünschte, es möchte vom Erdboden vertilgt werden. „Wodurch“, fragte Herr K., „bin ich für diese Minute ein Nationalist geworden? Dadurch, daß ich einem Nationalisten begegnete. Aber darum muß man die Dummheit ja ausrotten; weil sie dumm macht, die ihr begegnen."

I added the extract to the delight of German speakers, setting it in context for literature lovers. 
Here is a link of the whole book in English. Brecht's surreal genius, a pleasure to read.

Enjoy:
http://www.monoskop.org/images/6/69/Brecht_Bertolt_Stories_of_Mr_Keuner.pdf

Back to: "I can go hungry anywhere"-
It is a very appropriate metaphor for my new life "part 3" in New Zealand.
As an ethical eater, after a visit to the supermarket I can only confirm I will go hungrier than ever.
I thought I was going to live on mussels and kiwifruit, but at the moment there is an ongoing warning on the East Coast and I just found out about certain chemicals in them, so I will have to lower my consumption of these such affordable membranes. Regarding Kiwi fruit, I refuse to eat Italian Kiwi in New Zealand, sorry, but globalisation can't go this far. Kiwis, you can't export your best dittos and buy Italian ones instead. No. Wrong. Spanish people wouldn't buy Aussie oranges in Spain. Por favor...

Imported Kiwifruit in New Zealand

First days' impressions: It has been a week since I landed in Auckland. My 3 years in OZ got reduced to to this and I was able to drag it along, minus 3 boxes of mainly books and props.

Upon arrival I stuck around the airport for an hour or so, carrying my load around. Silvia my angel sister picked me up where agreed and off we went! What an amazing amazing heart sister I have in Auckland. So choice!

Settling at her place was a real gift, but there was so much to do and we had so much to catch up with that I can't express in words how frantic it all felt and how tired I was after a short night of sleep and night out before my departure with my three most beloved brothers in Sydney: Eli, Joao and Jorge. I got lucky. I got to spend time with the three of them in one eve. Well, two and a half. I haven't seen Eli so slowed down and tired. Come to think about it, so grateful we got to hang out! I owe you a cuddly movie session! 

My trip to the airport was a mess of snot and tears and so was my flight, I had no-one sitting next to me so I had a tearful ball. There is no fear or sadness in those tears, just emotions I couldn't contain. I needed to cry long to clear my Sydney caché. Simply so.

I have always been a late sleeper, I can stay wide awake for many hours stimulant-free. We had so many exciting things to share in Auckland that I couldn't sleep one second. I managed to fit a power nap while Silvia got busy with other things, but otherwise an irritating sense of tiredness kept following me around. After a power nap my divine sister, 
Silvia dropped me at Renee's and I could see her and Sophie, beautiful birthday girls. The power nap allowed me to be able to utter a few words and drink wine but we soon realised we were all past bed time. I am glad I saw them, hugged them on their b-days and I am stoked that now I will be able to have them closer than ever. Thankful heaps!

That night I had one of those Kafkian (Bretchian?) encounters. Sophie dropped me at St Lukes and I was just about to enter the house when this lady approached me. She was in her 50s and had a strong Slavic accent. I thought it was going to be a polite 'gnight! but she kept talking incessantly. She gave me all sorts of details of her history from high school until now while taking incessant drags of an almost consumed cigarette. She had studied Spanish in high school and she told me that the most important thing I should teach the kids is the conquering of America. I didn't argue it. She had a stereotypical Slavic bluntness and she wasn't willing to give in. Not sure how I would feel to teach how a few Spaniards screwed some ancient cultures back in the Middle Ages, in many different ways. 

On day two I managed to have looked at two cars in the morning while Silvia was at work. When she returned we managed to do another viewing, go for Indian food and sip whiskey on the rocks in a hotel lobby (thank you, Laurita!).

I have accepted that there is no use of avoiding a car in the rather rural north, but one of my no-nos was having to buy an automatic car, a very common thing in here. Driving stick to me is not only a great pleasure. I am very sure it does keep your brain fit, focused on the engine and engaged on whatever happens on the road. In fact, I find driving an automatic car at the snail speeds in NZ quite dangerous, because the lack of adrenaline and maneuver activity makes you get distracted on peripheral things like shaving your armpits or scratching your scrotum. 

And here my biggest dilemma. I wanted a fuel efficient car. Small, as I wasn't going to travel much. Actually I had the BMW 120 series in mind, because they drive like a dream. I also wanted to have a car I could enjoy driving. Under those parameters my search was very limited. I expanded the search by allowing hybrid cars into the equation (you know, green and so), but they were automatic. Worse, even, the Prius is not only automatic. It also requires getting used to new driving habits and I wasn't sure if I wanted to acquire for one year.

After visiting a few not very convincing hybrids, I was with Silvia convinced me to go to a car dealer. There we were, I felt silly, waiting for the staff to finish a meeting. While I was throwing my frustration on my limited choices, we stopped, turned around and saw him/her!

Claire/Claude. The Victor/Victoria. The transgender of the road!

Automatic, who would have thought...

I got to Whangarei with Claire Claude. I have written other people with details on my flat search. It took one day and two flats. 
In my three years in Sydney I haven't been officially able to get my own apartment. One of the things I was craving most was having a cat. On my departure from Sydney, our street cat disappeared, similar to Lala's disappearance after I left Amsterdam. 
Second flat viewing, terrific little house and the flatmate I was waiting for...

Kimber, mon amour!

He's very afectionate, but not that used to life together with humans. He loves to wander. We love to have him over. My other two flatmates are as cool as the cat. We are two fab ladies and one lucky guy. Life is good. I can say with certainty that I feel happy. Content. In the moment. 

So this is how it starts. In very bourgeois terms, listed: car, house and cat. But also the most amazing views, beautiful sunsets and a sense of peace, space and light that can't be captured by pictures. 
This is what I look forward to when I wake up in the morning

View from the terrace. Can't get tired of it. I will capture a sunset to complete the cycle. 

I wish everyone a lot of success and love towards these Summer months in the Southern Hemisphere or to a hopefully short winter in the Northern one. 

AROHA 
Gern werd' ich hier hungern. I will gladly go hungry here ;-)

Random sort of connected highlights, on empathy and bullying

Sadder times. Another discovery journey. 3rd round.

I see my imminent depart from Sydney and as a highlight of the week, I had the chance to close the circle, as they do in hypnotic rituals and go back to the place it all began for me. 
The Alpha of the Sydnean eternal crush, Coogee's charm. So I bade it farewell.

Sydney soon got me busy doing anything but sit and write about my travels, again the hardships of writing in journalistic style. 
I had returned to my favourite corner in the world after my extensive intensive trip around central and southern Europe. Europe always means connecting with the original me through the ones who really love you, it means brutal honesty and painfully lost times. The happiest of days, because you really are in your element, but at the same time it becomes a catalyst that brings out the worst and the best of you.
This time some conversations shed light into a capability of mine I didn't know I had. I always admired empathy and compassion, but I wouldn't describe myself as either.

When I last had my re-birthing session my breath worker said I was learning to allow compassion into my heart. I am glad I have gradually opened up to real good people and stayed at about safe distance from the ones I don't feel warm vibes from.

There is this thing. After getting back in touch with Jay B (yes, I did, he actually found me) and talking to people from that generation, I learnt astoundingly that some early encounters distilled  a quality I didn't know I possessed: empathy. Yaaay...

Still in denial I did an experiment just in case and carefully started registering on a notebook any thought that came to my mind when I was interacting with people or capturing a vibe. And I was proud and shocked to see that my thoughts always had the other person's feelings into consideration, and good intentions, with no exception. Even a thought I'd consider less positive included my interlocutor's feelings or some sort of forgiveness for that thought, some pleasantism, or the art of trying to concentrate in the best of anyone and their genuine nature.

And so I found out that I was empathetic. It seems a joke, but I hadn't been told otherwise in previous years. I have either developed a higher sense of empathy by getting hurt (way to learn, Selveta!), by those Prosecco evenings, which my closest friends would start with: "we love you, but you can't go on like this" or by receiving empathy from very close people when I felt cluelessly helpless.

Once registered I can conclude that as nice and proud one might feel about the discovery, as cool as it is to tap into other people's feelings, I sometimes wish I was back to that blasé attitude that numbs you. But even if i try, it doesn't work any longer.
I have also come to the discovery that I have an uncanny talent to feel fascinated about people on the other side of the spectrum, with the same enthusiasm as I get warm fuzzies when surrounded by the kind-hearted. Guess it reminds me of a then non-chalant self with Bill Murray levels of not giving a f*ck.

I am going back to full-time teaching and to deal with young adults. Fascinating. 
And one thing that amazed me while I first got in contact with the secondary teaching world was that I could sob Claire Danes style in an auditorium, in the teacher's room or in the classroom (fanned by a stack of paper) to bullying stories. 
I have always possessed very high level of fairness. So seeing my peers being unfairly treated by anyone sets me on fire. I also have Ghandi levels of violence, so I would never get to a physical fight with anyone, so the result is a standup, a revolutionary pacific protest, an "I will make everyone know of this injustice, creatively, if possible".

Being neither a cool kid or a cornered misfit is a quality I defined when I met Carolinski (and that is why we felt very identified with each other in that particular area). Carol as an underground trendsetter and fair rights activist and me as more passive and distanced (where is the cat?) with a historical eye rolling indifference towards the so-called popular kids, which, really, present themselves as dull and mere societal sheepish reflections of all those trends that bore you to oblivion. Quacky, static, one-dimensional.

You are seen as weird, but the mainstream so-called "cool" kids tolerate you. The in-between quality allows you and inclines you to protect the bullied ones. 
So that is how I learnt through different childhood/adolescent stories during my European incursion. They felt in some way bullied or cornered and to my delight thanked me for being submitted by me to the strictest resistance tests. That is when the notebook where I noted my empathetic thoughts comes to play. Nothing has changed. I remember those moments and I also recall I never did anything to be cruel on them. I was always looking for their best, though, sometimes, I admit, being a tad patronising... 

Putting certain less "cool" kids to coolness tests was a way to preparing them in an intuitive way to test their boundaries and discover how cool they really were and ARE. And so they learnt to see themselves the way I saw them. 
No matter how cornered a kid (or adult) was, I always gave them a chance. Carefully tried a few approaches, and experienced unusual, whimsical moments with them that allowed me to see the world through their eyes. And to enjoy their unusual awesomeness.

The unpopular kids have the most interesting stories to tell. Weird? I call it interesting. 

So make some room for the teacher in me. Exciting, well deserved and longed for time. Sure some student will call me, with their charming Kiwi accent: "you are weeerd, muss". I can't wait for the compliment. It means empathetic, aware, intuitive and unconventional. And I am proud of it.

Mid- January. A new return to New Zealand. So amazing to have lived so many more times in the Southern Hemisphere than the Northern one. Let this one time be the definitive and make my dreams come true!

a primera vista - at first sight

I am not a person who accepts impulsiveness, I can understand it because it is in the culture I grew up with, but I objectively think it doesn't lead anywhere. 

However, there is a kind of impulsiveness I can carry out of intuition. It comes from a warm place in my solar plexus and I know it is right. It is the one full of love, the:

"At first sight"

I read a statement about friendship at first sight and made it mine. It is more realistic than love at first sight, I guess. Still love, without the driven component, toch?

My first experience of love or friendship at first sight was my best friend. I had never experienced that. Our story is beautiful, full of dreams and it started in a breakthrough moment, when we were detaching from childhood, trying to find ourselves. She moved into the neighbourhood as the new kid but I didn't want to meet her. My extremely unloyal, unfaithful and hurting "boyfriend" had her already on her to-do list. I didn't think it was fair to interfere. Yep, I was that considerate. I only took a glimpse of her while walking past a bar and I thought she was worth falling for. She had something special, as much self-esteem as an 18-year-old could hold, I thought she was more worth than I. He didn't deserve her, but  who was I to try to stop it. He had slept with friends of mine in the past. Some it hurt a lot, because I had to remeasure my concept of friendship. And some of the random girls he asked out I felt offended, because I really thought I was more worth than them. But not the new kid. She was really cool to look at, so I didn't want to be friends with her and I just let things take its normal course without being a possessive or jealous person. That is, I let my "boyfriend" be a restless cheater and try his luck on her and I didn't want to be friends because then I had to tell her what and a*hole he was. 

A total different story to figure out why I thought I deserved that 'man' in my life.

But my barrio is not that big, I did see him courting her a couple of times near my street, taking her for a walk on a gorgeous big avenue with a church and banana trees. And as she made friends with my clique, we did end up meeting each other. I've never asked her what background information she had from me, I will ask her some day. I remember we were sitting on a couch, at a friend's place. Me feeling quite uncomfortable. I started kneading one of my friend's backs and she asked me to give her a little rub on the shoulders. She used to have a strict training schedule as a swimmer. I did and she told me something I will never forget: "it felt like you grabbed my muscles one by one and untied them" - and it felt like that. I had never felt that energy, of touching someone and feeling almost like I was touching my own body. 

We have been together since. I left my "boyfriend", for her. It was a funny story. We sort of dumped him together and it felt great to get rid of him and have her in my life. 

It was the best decision I (we) ever made. I love Bego so much as it felt part of me. My better half. We don't look alike at all but even my sister says we seem sisters. Everyone thinks we are sisters. Well, in a way, we ARE sisters. I am sure in a previous life we shared some blood line. 

When the feeling is so strong, the "at first sight" feels so right it is amazing. It is quite like the sugary description people do when they say they found their soulmate. It hits you, and you know you've found someone for life. 

A few days ago I had a friend, another soulmate visit me. We had our "at first sight" a few years ago in a food court in Auckland. It was pretty much so. I did follow my intuition and left her a note at the bar she worked at, telling her what I felt. I left her my number. and she called me back!

I have spent priceless moments with her. I could read instantly her good nature and her amazing positive energy that can fill a football stadium.That dash of naivety with that bit of naughtiness gets me all the time. And I feel I can trust her anything and she won't judge me, neither will I. We can laugh at the world or feel the connection of God, everything goes. And we are utterly out of our minds, and celebrating it!

I love every moment I spend with her. We talked about the first day we met. We remember it well. I was a client like any other, but we got the vibe. That vibe. Funnily I was on a date that day. I was feeling very insecure with that guy (the anger to realise I have a built in radar for generic a*holes), but she made me feel good and positive.

Of course there has to be a black sheep. There was once this thunderbolt-lightining right-here-right-now I felt one unfortunate evening on flat 5, nr21. Desire at first sight, which dragged on for about 10 years. The main subject of my future book called: "progressive dark". Years believing in a fantasy to learn that there is no-one more precious than yourself and your journey, the one you travel within. And those amazing persons you let into your life and you want to travel with, as long as the journey allows it. 

ON a post-post note I just had a talk to my best friend, she contacted me just as I was about to finish this post. And I had the chance to tell her again how much she means for me. Best tears the one you shed of happiness. 
Ah, my whanau, my chosen family. My Sydney mad family, my kiwi whanau! the Amsterdam unique ex-pat bunch, all those freak-like-me in Germany I need not talk to understand, because we speak the same language(s). My German parents, my relatives in Regensburg. The ones I grew up with in Barcelona, colló, el rerafons cultural i educatiu que compartim! Sergi, company de reflexions i confidències... And my family of blood, my alpha and omega. 

CELEBRATING LOVE AND THANKFUL OF THAT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT THAT HAS BROUGHT SO MUCH RICHNESS INTO MY SOUL.

 SO GLAD WE MET, WE FINALLY BUMPED INTO EACH OTHER.

I WISH TO OPEN TO MORE CONSCIOUSNESS IN 2015, AND WILL WORK ON IT, LOOKING INTO THAT DIRECTION. 

I HOPE TO SHARE MORE LOVE AND TRUST AS LIFE IS NOTHING ELSE BUT THAT.
 I ALSO WISH THE ASCENSION FOR THOSE WHO STILL NEED A LITTLE KICK FROM THEIR 2ND DIMENSION. I NEED YOU IN HIGHER GROUNDS!

A European European

As much as I love the Southern Hemisphere there is no other continent I identify more with than Europe.

And as much as many (mostly Dutch friends) shake their head in disbelief, there is no country I feel second (or even later first) at home than Germany.

So, langsam lerne ich die deutsche Sprache wieder, I recover my rusty and never supereloquent_but_nevertheless_correct German. Can't beat this language. It is compact and precise. It rocks and I am glad I can get to practise it, to enjoy speaking and listening to it again. Yep, I am a German enthusiast as much as I am an NZ enthusiast.

I bought an Interrail Pass that has so far made it from Amsterdam to Regensburg, München, Mannheim, Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfurt, Bad Vilbel and it is still on the way to Paris with its final destination to Barcelona, the city that saw me first. It is a very nice feeling to travel around on trains. Specially when taking the German ICE high speed super silent trains that rock you to sleep. True story.

I have managed to catch up with a lot of people. Some we didn't manage timewise and some we managed to arrange a short-sweet and cheery improptu breakfast/beer. Danke Steffi, danke Patrick!. Usually people who have lived abroad understand that often touring one's homeland has little to do with doing holidays. It becomes very  important to share the gift of real flesh_and_blood presence and interaction with people. Maybe is a certain sydrome of the permanent migrant. You don't identify with a country as much as you identify with people you share life views and experiences with.

I am delighted that all is still so sentimentally charged. There's this thing... Whenever I travel I hardly ever get an airport farewell or a welcome commitee. But everytime I step an airport there are these people waiting for others and meeting, hugging, celebrating: friends, family, lovers...
Hence, if I arrive to a Bahnhof and if a friend or friends are receiving me I sob without  exception. I understand those arms are for me and I dive in them to wipe my ecstatic tears on their hearts. The love I experience for a brief moment is so big it cures the little wounds their absence did on me. I know it is cheesy, but it feels quite like that.

As much as I love Australia for its sun, its colour, food, wildlife, people, quality of life and uniqueness, Europeans have all the character any new country lacks. I am a European European. Born in Barcelona, raised everywhere.

least self reflective trip

I am a bit sadly returned of my trip. That Fernweh...

I love now though when people ask me: are you now going back home? I really have to ask: back home where? It is hard to inhabitate the planet in different areas. Home Amsterdam where I have my apartment? Home Barcelona where I have my family? or home Sydney where I have my heart?
The trip was amazing and very educative. Least self reflective because having a smartphone around spoils all moments of sweet solitude, of writing impressions and of feeling far from your last destination. I think I will continue travelling 90s style. As awesome as it is having all the answers ready, there is a more elaborate way to find them that involves more communication, research and high head keeping.

This trip to a less known area also made me reinfoce the fact that if you've grown up whithin a reality and haven't experienced others you will try to understand things from your available resources. Regarding current affairs within the Middle East nobody we met seemed to carry any hate nor understand much of what was going on without involving many different factors. They all agreed it involved complex political interests. Of course as travellers you get to feel attracted to people with a broader view. Meaning, we'll never get to meet people with radical views. 
Bego, my best friend and travelling partner and I have written some highlights down of our trip.

We left on a Saturday morning from Paris. As we do, we woke up late and waited until last minute to make our way to the airport. And we almost didn't make it. Not because of the public transport, but because there was a fire in the basement of our building and the firemen didn't want us to set foot on street level, which was sealed. It took some running desperately on the same spot and backpack showing before they let us made our way to the metro.
We were surely late and the lady at the customs queue was making things harder. We had 7 minutes before gate closing and a big queue in front of us so I showed the lady the boarding pass and asked her if she could pretty please let us through. A typical charming Parisienne, that lady answered in her lowest grin and loudest voice: "Madame, toute le monde a le
même probleme ici". Ah, we love Parisians!

So there for starters. We took off late and arrived to our first destination: Beirut. In Beirut we were held apart and questioned. We learned later on the trip that we had been super lucky not to have mentioned our trip further to Israel, otherwise we'd still be at the airport answering questions.
I managed not to get too cocky or sarcastic with immigration authorities. Yay to me!

Episode 1 will be Lebanese anecdotes. And there is unfortunately a little bit of a misventure there.

time warping

I have just taken a dose of melatonin and while waiting for it to kick in, here they go: first Amsterdam impressions.
Once landed the language and the place suddenly became familiar. My first stop at the Schiphol airport was at the Etos. For what? Zoute drop. That impossibly salty snoep I am so addicted to. I filled a modest bag (I don't know my limits when it comes to dropjes) and laughed on the way into the train station because that move was so predictable and so... Dutch. 

zoute drop

Soon the language becomes familiar: "bonnetje bij?" - nee hoor, bedankt - into the culture without a blink.

First thing I realised is how fancy the OV chipkaart has become. It glitters! And the metro system is now very first world. Very nice for the hearing impaired. Each station called comes with a picture of the area, so you can recognise where you are. 

I rush through my street, the Vrolikstraat, and giggle again while going up the impossibly steep stairs of my Amsterdam house. I live now in the attic= zolder. And it is gorgeous. Alex would kill me. He left it spotless and I have managed to turn it into a war zone in a few hours. but now I have all I need in reach.


Because Europe has decent internet and not that shame of a connection from Down Under I have videoconferenced every  conversation I've been able to carry. Great to see people.
My bike was still upstairs and the tyres were flat so I had to walk to the shops, walk, grrrr. Got myself a 6 pack of Grolsh and started cracking beers. And worked to make me tired. I love the peace of my neighbourhood, but today they were cleaning  the playground downstairs with pressure hoses and I didn't get a proper sleep. Shame... I was so ready to take THE nap.

Vrolikstraat playground being cleaned

The first person I've seen in Amsterdam was Jay. He was at work (Ticketscript) which was a bike ride away. I really wanted to take the bike out and hadn't seen Jay in maybe 4 years, so, off we went. We met through one of my closest friends in Amsterdam, Annalisa. Annalisa, like I, quit coporate life and unlike me she became a talented photographer. Jay has been taking pictures of the party scene for a long time and has quite a name in the field. I remember he helped Annalisa for a project in the use of light and movement in darkness. And they used me as a model. 
This is some of Jay's work:
 https://www.flickr.com/photos/jaysphoto

The ticketscript office is on an artificial half island off centraal. The views are amazing and the terrace a dream. Sorry I made it late. Would have been nice to catch up with the rest of the team.
We walked together to centraal and I asked him to take us a picture. This one is for Annalisa. And it has a wish: next time we'll meet the three of us. Love you sweetie. See you soon. 

Amsterdam day 1. We miss Annalisa

Before going to bed I biked through the Dappermarkt. Did I say it  feels amazing to bike through Amsterdam? Everyone is out of your way, because on the bike you are a supreme being. The bike paths are so broad, life is easy, it's just soooo nice!!! 
Checked also to see if Pats was home, but she's already moved next door. Caught up shortly with her and saw the new place. What a nice apartment! What a big terrace! Congratulations! Her two cats Ukki and Pebbles were spending the first night in the new apartment. I had the chance to cuddle brave Ukki. Pebs was a bit under the weather. 

And then Pats told me Lala is back on the streets. My Lala. Something to look forward to tomorrow.

I had another videoconference to wish Bego good night on the same time zone. She laughed at me trying to figure out how to operate my fairphone. 
Night  from A'dam.