Braveheart

In my daughters words after the facts: I came home on an overfull train and saw a small seat behind the buggy of a Jewish family with four kids. The lady made some formula for the tiny baby and I messed with my papers. Upon arrival at my stop we all got out of train. Two young guys followed us and shouted: 'Judenhunde'! I was shaken and had a surge of adrenaline. I turned around barely a few centimeter from them and said: what did you say, now you have to deal with this blonde. Look in my beautiful blue eyes. Nobody intervened, nobody said anything although there were a lot of people and all had heard it. Then the train was leaving and the guys (one sporting a Were Di badge) went back on the train. The family walked slow with the kids in tow and so I met up with them. The Lady said 'thank you' and I apologized for the unconscionable attitude of these guys. That poor family. It was the first time I heard a thing like that, but i wonder how often had they to hear things like that. I didn't know that was still possible...

I am proud of my daughter's reaction and wonder about the risks of fearlessness. She did the right thing!

Day of writers in prison

Our Writers in Prison Committee of the local Pen-center did well. 12 writers choose 12 different authors and read some of their writings. The totally was moving and strong. The poetry read was thoughtful and stirring.
Putting writers in prison or exiling them or killing them is an age old way of dealing with disturbing thoughts or feelings. We read poets from Myanmar, Nigeria, Tibet, Malawi, the USA, South-Africa, China, Argentina, Syria, Tunisia, Turkey... here you see the MC of the evening, three writers waiting their turn on the podium and the front row with the defiant dozen readers who try to remind all of us that writers still are punished for their disconcerting thoughts. By the way we had a fine crowd listening.

The rolls royce of bikes

As a present to myself, and in order to minimize my ecological footprint, I got a lightweight Brompton. It looks cool is sturdy and weighs about 20 pounds, just under 10 kilo. The practice run, after years of walking and driving, was fun. A heavy duty convinced cyclist in front and my daughter seemingly protecting her toddler from the dangerous traffic. I was astonished that after just a few minutes I felt at ease again on cycle and had good fun, wearing myself out. Then I cycled with Spookie who made me aware of the pitfall and then I started to do short runs on my own, braving the city traffic. And yes I got saddle sore and still need a bit more practice in the folding. No it is not me you see...

Icons

My laptop was out for a few days. I had a lot to write about but it won't happen now. I just want to write about November 10 when two people whose work was with me during the course of my life passed away: Miriam Makeba and Wannes Van de Velde. Wannes was a singer songwriter, painter, writer, flamenco player, a good person, a thinker, a joyful man who loved the city where I live. He also carried anger for what the authorities did to our city. Her personified the spirit of rebelliousness in a kind way to me. Miriam Makeba was the icon of the anti-apartheid struggle. Ages ago, in order that my daughter's father wouldn't have to do his military service, we wanted to emigrate to South Africa, since we knew some people working with the ANC. We dutifully filled out all papers and got as a reply: No thank you, you are not welcome since we don't think you could adapt to the system in place. Actually I should have kept that letter because that was a badge of honor. Miriam Makeba showed the way of non-violent resistance to a hateful regime. Both brought thoughtfulness, joy, resolve and beauty to my life.

Handicapped

A friend whose husband is severely handicapped - he cannot stand since he has no force in his hips or lower limbs - was nearing exhaustion. She mused: What is the alternative, conversation is still as good as ever and we still sleep together in the same bed. Knowing what it means to be alone, untouched, I could see what she meant. She continued: It is harder now and takes some preparation to make love. And I have to do all the work. I am getting older too and the strain on legs and knees is getting worse. Yes, you have to be inventive to make it work and you also have to be really in the mood. So sometimes it is just the good old hand job for both of us... But then sleeping next to him, feeling the warmth of his body and knowing tomorrow will be another interesting day, I wouldn't want to miss it all. Now this friend is an excellent planner, has all the modern lifting equipment, special wheelchairs, can afford to pay a person when she leaves the house for a couple of hours and their love is based on intellectual curiosity and 'chaleur animale', the need for proximity. So she makes it work. Yes, she is strong and tired and describing the positions and proplems each of them poses, we had a good laugh and could deal with our different lives again.

Welcome President Elect

I am still dazed, not daring to believe. I am relieved, the world sighed as if a load was taken of its shoulders. Yet that load is now on this young man's shoulders and on ours. We need to go on defending our values, try to bring good to world. We have to go on working for human rights, wildlife, climate, against poverty, for peace, for healthcare and for choice so that we and all other humans can live a full life. I am dazed, how must the President elect feel?

The book of thieves

Today the judicial research police asked Bee and myself to look at pictures that fitted our description. I looked at the faces of these kids in their different attitudes. They looked into the camera challenging, sad, like a bully, indifferent. Their hairdos were elaborate, like for going out to a party, lots of wax and special waves, lots of piercings too... The longer I looked, the sadder I became. I asked the young officer how many kids would turn out to be alright. 'Many have enough after the first warning, but many return and show up time and time again', he replied. I said some have such winning smiles. So he showed me the picture again and it turns out he steals, does breaking and entry with violence and more. Some looked as if not knowing what was happening to them, others looking pleadingly.We were lucky we met with two non-violent thugs. I saw arrogant vulnerability in these mugshots and felt no anger but compassion. Arrogant vulnerability? Yes, Bee saw it too.