About the Old Ladies

The demography of Steinstrasse 1A is such:
20-30 year olds, 3 to 5 apartments
30-60 year old professionals about half of the rest
Old women, retired or divorced longer than most of my readers have been alive are the bulk of the remainder.
It's a big building.  I only know a few handfuls of people well enough to actually have a conversation.  The rest are either nodders, or good day types.

I wonder about the old women.  I know of only one who spends the majority of her day in the city.  She's in her 80s, rides a bicycle, gets all dolled up every day, and sits inside or outside of cafes, often alone, or with other women her age.  The rest are cleaning their kitchens with cigarettes dangling from their lips, or maybe reading the bible or looking at photo albums.  The only one with frequent visitors is the one with the confidence and energy to ride a bicycle and visit cafes.  Our front door is not very busy.

Old people smoke, because in their day, it was considered attractive, sophisticated, and only a rumored health hazard.  When you've survived some of your children, and most of your friends, there's not much reason to quit smoking.  I'm still not old enough not to give a damn, so I quit often.....

Even People on Steinstrasse Can Die

One of the guys at the cafe was operated on for cancer of the wind pipe about a year ago, and was feeling pretty good after the operation until they found some of it in his brain, then some more, then in the kidneys.....He decided to just make it another day, and made his rounds of visitation and conversation until he got too weak to carry on.  This poem, from the Sufi mystic and ultimate definer of love, life, and light Rumi, mirrors my thoughts.


The day I've died, my pall is moving on -
But do not think my heart is still on earth!
Don't weep and pity me: "Oh woe, how awful!"
You fall in devil's snare - woe, that is awful!
Don't cry "Woe, parted!" at my burial -
For me this is the time of joyful meeting!
Don't say "Farewell!" when I'm put in the grave -
A curtain is it for eternal bliss.
You saw "descending" - now look at the rising!
Is setting dangerous for sun and moon?
To you it looks like setting, but it's rising;
The coffin seems a jail, yet it means freedom.
Which seed fell in the earth that did not grow there?
Why do you doubt the fate of human seed?
What bucket came not filled from out the cistern?
Why should the Yusaf "Soul" then fear this well?
Close here your mouth and open it on that side.
So that your hymns may sound in Where- no-place!

Deutschland 4 England 1

Mona Lisa's family watched the game in a kind of rapture, punctuated by howls of glee, with an occasional moan of despair, before the Deutsch took off in the second half.  It was a WOW.

New Stories

http://www.zavacki.com/contentsstories.html

The World Cup, So Far

The USA team lost in overtime last night, they are out of the running.  Ghana goes forward.  As the last African team in the first World Cup in Africa, I think they make have had the edge.  Deutschland goes up against England today.  That's never an easy match-up, probably because most of the English royalty descend from German stock :-)

It's a 16:00 game, so I'm going to do my walking early today.  Giovanni's going to be open, so the usual suspects will be lined up and I will be among them.  Don't pray for Germany, cheer instead, it's more effective.....

Kranken Gymanstic

literal: to suffer from something gymnastics.  Physical therapy in the American language.  It's a guy rubbing my hand, squeezing muscles up and down my arm and neck and causing discomfort to the point of grunting.  It's helping the hand get mobile.  I feel a little more in the fingers, have more strength, etc.  Today's session is at 18:30, it's a good walk and I'll be back in time to see Chile vs Spain.

Numinosity and the Four Seasons

numinous

■  adjective having a strong religious or spiritual quality.
numinosity noun

If you know me at all, you know I am no fan of organized religion, the reasons being all to obvious to me, and probably (but not certainly) to you too.  I don't have a place in my life for that sort of thing.  Instead, I experience the seasons and the weather and the rocks and trees and fields that I meet in my travels.  They're all part of the same thing, which is everything.  Everything includes that which we can and cannot experience with the senses and which the imagination can only feebly bring to consciousness. 


I am going to preach today, and here is the text of my sermon:

Be aware.

Im Herford nichts neues..

Book titles, like all language, don’t always translate literally.  Erich Maria Remarque’s classic “All Quiet on the Western Front” is titled “Im Westen nichts neues” or “nothing new in the west”.  This post means, not much happening here today.

I watched the US match at home yesterday, then the German match at Giovanni’s.

Picked up a couple of blisters on my right foot climbing the hill in Desenberg day before yesterday, so the travels will take a break for a couple of days.  I’ve been studying the maps and looking for a good train ride. 

Warburg

Took the train down to Warburg this morning.  This one’s a must see and worthy of an encore.  The Old City is absolutely beautiful, uphill and down, with plenty of fachwerk (half-timbered, German lesson for free) houses.  Churches, watch towers, and plenty of outdoor cafes.  From the Old City, I walked about 4 km. to the Desenberg Burg Ruines.  It was Sunny, hot, and there were no trees to keep the Sun off of the old head, but it was a pleasant, easy walk until I got to the foot of the hill.  I met a young man from Heford, about Abby’s age.  He came down on his motorcycle, and we climbed the backside of the hill together.  It was steep, narrow, and not the best footing, but he was a nice guy who pretended to need to take a break when he heard me breathing heavy…… We got to the top without incident, took photos, then relaxed, enjoyed the views and shot the breeze.  He was born in Khazakstan, so I got to talk Russian again, but his German was great, and his English pretty good.  While were relaxing, a class trip of just a little more than ankle biting age showed up and provided a little amusement.  On the way down the other side (which was an easy gravel path) he asked where he could see my photos, so I gave him my card. We parted with the comment that if we didn’t run into each other in Herford, we’d probably meet on top of another hill with a Burg on it!
I took a bus back to the train station and got back to Herford about 7:30.  Drank a couple of liters of cold green tea, and hat a bite.  Pictures are here.

Thinking about…

I’m thinking about taking the train down to Warburg today.  I cleaned the apartment yesterday, so it would be best for me to avoid living here all day in order to preserve order for at least tweny-fout hours……

Why the hell do I use ellipsis so often?

Maybe because this is how I see myself-

Fathers Day USA 2010

Waiting for the obligatory phones calls.  Communicating more with the kids over social networks than Skype these days because of their work schedules and the fact that half the time, they live in my past and live in their future.  Odd concept, time zones.  They’re practical, but they’re odd on the metaphysical level.  Which brings me to Paolo Coelho. He knows a lot about spirituality and comparative religion.  He uses the term Zahir, with the article ‘the’ in front of it as the title of a book and defines a Zahir as
ZAHIR, in Arabic, means visible, present, incapable of going unnoticed. It is someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or of madness.

Source(s):Paulo Coelho, The Zahir (2005);

In Islam, there are two aspects to the Koran.  One is Zahir, which is the obvious interpretation, the ‘normal’ meaning or words.  The other is Batin, or the underlying, the esoteric.
I think this is a good place to start a story.  Thank you Mr. Coelho, and you Prophet Muhammad.  And thank me for having such a big ego as to try to understand these things and tell them to you.

Kids can be Zahirs.  Once we come into contact with them, they occupy our every thought.  Then they grow up.  That's the hard part.  I'm nine hours away from the US by plane and Abby and John are ten hours away from each other by car, but we stay in touch, probably more and in more depth, than if we were in closer proximity.  Life is like that.....

Herforder Vision: the Photos

I'm uploading the photos as I write.  The Vision procession starts with a prayer, hymn, and a play, then all of the players, priests, and other participants (including half the British Army) march from the Church on the hill where the vision occurred (10th or early 11th century) the the Stiftkirche, the BIG one in the old town.  I did a little hob-nobbing with Lutheran and Catholic priests, then followed the procession down the hill to the end point, where it ended with prayers, hymns, and announced the start of the two day mini-fest.  Photos can be reached through my main page here or you can go directly to Picassa.

Yesterday

Mona Lisa had special hours yesterday in honor of the German and American World Cup games.  Giovanni, as usual, in fine form.  The usual crowd was there and we shared disappointment in the outcomes of both matches.  I, of course, was particularly upset by the disallowed goal in the American game.

Herforder Vision

Today is the celebration of the Herforder Vision, a Virgin Mary vistation to a shepherd or beggar, depending on the teller of the tale.  This happened sometime between 926 and 1011.  The visionary reported his vision and the message given to him to the Abbess of the Cloister and was immediately put into chains.  They freed him (after the fire and water ordeal) once the facts were verified.  The message was simply to concentrate on spiritual and intellectual development rather than the restoration of the splendor of the cloister.  The whole thing will be reenacted today followed by a procession to the old town.  This is a photo mission.  I may even be converted.

Check back later today for the results.....

Last week , Monday (8.June.2010) Burg Vlotho, a couple of stops up the railroad line. The stones in the foreground are projectiles the friendly people of Vlotho used to keep strange armies out of their idyll.....
Photos at Burg Vlotho. Learn a little more at http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burg_Vlotho
Google translation should be good enough (although it's quirky)  The only bad part of my walk:  the restaurant was closed.....

Early Morning Train

I took a ride south this morning, to Altenbeken, the other side of Detmold. It's a small town and there's not much there, but if you've got the energy to climb the hill and find the overlook platform, you can get some nice shots.  In the town itself, I photographed some churches and their ancillary art and architecture, a big old steam locomotive at the one locomotive museum.

On the way back, I met a Russian woman on the train who sings with the philharmonic, who was on her way from Detmold to Bielefeld. We shared close to twenty words before I disembarked, but it was more conversation than I had all of last week!

Photos should be posted later on this afternoon. Next junket, Warburg, with castle and stuff.  Stayed tuned.
Did I forget to mention the 29km trail around the city, interlaced with smaller rundwegs (loops)?

Oh, did I forget to mention the trout??

the story, so far

last week was quiet on the street.  Giovanni and Nora went to Bari, Italy to visit Giovanni's family.  nobody called me Jack until today, when I met the other Jack (Giovanni), Nora, and Niko (Jack's son ((the other Jack))

today i had my third session of Kranken Gymnastic (sounds like a sick guy doing the parallel bars, doesn't it?) which is actually physical therapy.  the guy does this gentle stuff on my hand and arm, until he finds the knots in my bicep and shoulder.  i think i may have said 'oof'

short road trip coming up tomorrow, Altenbek.  i'll post some notes and photos after the train brings me home.