Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Monday, August 22, 2016

Wild People



The world is full of all sorts. It's curiously viciously grotesquely beautiful.

For most of us, we walk around with our eyes half closed and try and maintain the status quo - trying to fit into our surroundings - be just beautiful enough, just successful enough, clean and groomed enough so that we fly by life with only the right kinds of attention. We long to fit in. And if we want to be noticed, it's normally for all the wrong reasons. You probably don't believe me, but look in the mirror and tell me who you really are!?


I didn't know much about the Solomons, in fact the only thing I'd read on the country said this:

"The Solomon Islands is a melting pot of various ethnicities, and they don't always get along. One group or another is always unhappy, and they don't mind expressing it with a protest, which often turns into a riot, which sparks looting and general lawlessness... Trouble brews quickly here.

Honiara is also the crime capital of The Solomons, and wealthy-looking visitors are often a target. Leave the expensive watches and expensive jewelry at home. Don't walk around the streets alone at night (best to go with a group or a guide), and give the early morning jog a miss.

If you do go out to a bar at night, be aware there'll always be a few locals who like to fight – there were active headhunters on these islands until the 1930's, so they probably know how to handle themselves.

During the day pick pocketing, bag snatching, mobile phone theft and general harassment is common.

Yachties Beware! Foreign governments also warn their yacht-based citizens to take care in Honiara harbour where there have been reports of criminals boarding yachts at night and stealing valuables. They are usually armed and are not deterred if confronted. It's best to let them take what they want and live to tell the tale.

...Swearing is a crime. It can lead to compensation claims or jail, or both.
Homosexual acts (by either sex) are illegal and penalties include jail sentences.

Bull, Hammerhead and Tiger sharks are present throughout Solomon Islands coastal waters. The timid Reef Shark is harmless, but, unless you know the difference, be wary of all sharks.

About 50 people are killed every year by saltwater crocodiles. These are locals, well-acquainted with the ever-present danger. Unsuspecting tourists are well advised to seek advice before entering unfamiliar waters and to be wary in any case.

In and around Honiara, uncontrolled dogs roam freely, often in packs. Tourists are advised to be cautious.

Solomon Islands is part of the Pacific ‘Ring of Fire', an area of volcanic activity over 40,000 kilometres long where 90% of the world's earthquakes occur. Four active volcanoes are listed. In April 2007, a magnitude 8.0 earthquake and tsunami struck the Solomon Islands killing at least 20 people and destroying villages. The most recent earthquake occurred in the Western Province on 4 January 2010. The resultant tsunami caused significant structural damage on the islands of Tetepare and Rendova. No lives were lost.

Cyclones bring heavy rain and cause local flooding. Roads are damaged and bridges often washed away. Travelers are advised to check local weather forecasts before traveling in unfamiliar areas."

-World Nomads. Solomon Islands : Everything you Need to Know Before you Go.
(Self-highlighted in bold for emphasis)

There was also mention of tropical beaches; but you tend to remember the negatives...

I suddenly remembered why I don't normally read up on countries before I visit them... At least I had a nice ten day sail up from Fiji to masticate this information and prepare myself for what [mis]adventures lay ahead. 
I'm sure the native crocs were going to love our inflatable kayak dinghy-tender.


Photo courtesy of Manuel Sturm; S/Y Gamine
The perfect setting to contemplate your fate.

We arrived at night. A phosphorescent crocodile swam over to pilot us in to Groscious Bay, Santa Cruz. 
The jungle buzzed around us as we celebrated our arrival with a bottle of red. 
In the still of the anchorage my heart raced: Pirates... Malaria... Are we safe?


The morning bought schools of visitors in dug-out canoes. Half naked. Red beetle nut toothed. Wild! Missionaries... Fishermen... Traders. 
You can trade for just about everything in the Solomons; one college we visited encourages their students to pay tuition in dried fruit or pigs. 
They no longer accept trees. 


As we jumped islands and bays we got sucked into the beauty of the wild. The bleach blond hair of the kids. We would paddle ashore to glares and unwelcoming machete yielding stances, but without fail our greeting the various onlookers would return a ferocious toothless smiles and friendships would be struck in minutes. 


Such was the love for the Hapi Isles, that one crew member opted to plant roots; and we said goodbye to Cocotino in a very moving, well attended burial ceremony.

Raphael bidding farewell to his trustee first mate.
In Santa Ana the people still challenge each other in warrior fights where spears are flung at neighbouring tribes to prove hero status. 
There's often casualties; but the heroes live on in legend and their bones are kept as sacred reminders for future generations. 
It's a wild world out here. A beautiful one.

House of the warriors.
Woman are not allowed to look upon the bones, but the boys were nice enough to get a picture for me.
Even the capital, Honiara, and it's dusty beetle stained streets has something genuine and raw about it. The dogs don't seem to bite, and neither do the people [yet].  
It also has WiFi and real coffee and that's a plus.

What did you see in the mirror? Who looked back at you?
If you look deep inside you will find that we are in fact wild things. 
We have flames of passion and lustre for life burning inside. An inextinguishable flame. 
We too are in fact wild people.

It's funny how the men all fight and get called "The Heroes"
...But the woman are the only ones brave enough to battle intruding snakes...

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Legacy


What were you born for??

In this cruel world of suffering and refugees and homeless people and war and taxes and divorce and hatred and PMS and Trump you can’t help but wonder why it is you turned up on this here planet… right?

I mean, whether we like it or not, we’re adding to the problems. 
We’re simply another mouth to feed. Some more footprints of carbon. 
We’re the ones having bad days and mood swings and frustrations. We’re the ones cursing the check-out counters for the back log of elderly people taking an hour to buy half a litre of milk. 
We’re either the bosses other people hate or we’re the ones spreading hate by bad-mouthing our bosses.


But what are you living for?? Why are you here?

We all won the sperm race. We’re all alive today. 
We forget that there may be a reason for that.
It’s easy to simply exist: eat, sleep, work, facebook, repeat. 
It’s easy to hang out with this or that sort of person. It’s easy to relax in your comfort zone. It’s easy to simply be. 
But is that living??

In staunch contrast to the gawking beauties of the islands of New Zealand, I’ve seen more pain and hardship than I have in a long time. I’ve been more confronted with death and pain and suffering than I’d like. It’s bought me a few tears and break downs; but it’s also bought me back to life.



Sometimes we get so caught up in comparing ourselves and our abilities with others. It’s easy to think that we’re not good enough or that our lives are meaningless. 
We’re selfish, but often self-loathing. 
We’re rich in so many things, but we all call ourselves broke. 
We’re too scared to give for fear that we won’t have enough. 
We’re all too scared to try things, just in case we fail.


But if you have legs; go places. 
If you have eyes; fill them with beauty. 
If you have a voice; sing, laugh and yell for joy. 
If you have friends and family; hug them often. 
If you have dreams; chase them.  
If you have life; make the most of it.

One day we’re all going to die. The question is, what legacy are you going to leave behind??


Monday, June 3, 2013

One Life - Love It!

Somebody recently pointed out that I turn 30 next year, and subconsciously I started preparing myself for my impending demise…
 
Come 30 I even thought my licking days would have to be over...

And then, two Thursdays ago, my phone rang – a family member had died. So I sucked in my fear of flying, hopped on a plane, bought some shoes (so I could be a respectable pole bearer), and touched down in Joburg.
 
My last living memory of Aunty Alta
Aunty Alta was the tiniest person I’ve ever know, but she had the biggest heart! And, while it was sad to have lost a Grandma, her death led me to meet our newest family member and to see family I had not seen in years, it led me to meet my tiny godkid, to see friends, to three days of solid reunions, and tears, and hugs. Her life and death reminded me what it really means to live.
The cousin and his new family
Meeting little Cuan, my tiny nephew
My little godkid to be - Dandelion (aka Zoe; the one on the left)
Back in Cape Town, after sharing the oldest cab in Cape Town with a random stranger, I went for a run and saw a man in his late 80s playing rugby with some 8 or 14 year old boys. I stopped and stared. They all had the biggest smiles on their faces and it suddenly hit home – it really doesn’t matter how old you are – life’s what you make it. And for most of us, life’s only just beginning!
My first ever shared cab... and the nicest driver too to mark the occasion
After 7 days of solid partying, good music, amazing food, weird coincidences, and something o’clock in the morning bed times; I took a night off and dug out my old bucket list. I sat down and actually thought about the things I’d love to accomplish in my life. While the list is probably too long to accomplish in this life time [and still needs to be worked on – I’m completely open to suggestions and accomplices] – there’s only one way to find out.



 

After taking out the things I’ve already achieved, this is what remains [in no particular order]:
  1. Drink a beer in every country in the world
  2. Start an empire
  3. Get a criminal record for something epic (age 80+ - think streaking at a international sports game type thing)
  4. Accidently discover a cure for a major disease
  5. Taxidermise a pet
  6. Add a word to the oxford dictionary
  7. Survive a plane crash
  8. Swim the English channel and//or northern sea
  9. Write and publish a book on why Speedos should never be worn
  10. Write and publish a travel novel
  11. Win a noble prize
  12. Live on a deserted island
  13. Grow a beard
  14. Cook and eat road kill
  15. Bake a cake taller than my shortest friend
  16. Climb Everest
  17. Make a feature film
  18. Climb Manchu Pichu
  19. Find ‘the one’
  20. Elope/ get married
  21. Have kids
  22. Legally give one kid a truly ridiculous name
  23. Survive a month without a shower
  24. Run a marathon
  25. Death road in Bolivia
  26. Reunite Butt Mullet (world’s most underappreciated lyrically deviant band) for a reunion gig
  27. Travel to a distant country just for dinner
  28. Cycle the Cape Epic
  29. Buy a camel // lama // goat
  30. Complete a week long [spiritual?] pilgrimage barefoot
  31. Cycle across a continent
  32. Lick the statue of liberty
  33. Defy gravity
  34. Participate in Carnival in Rio
  35. Do the splits
  36. Join a nudist colony for the day
  37. Raft through the grand canyon
  38. October Fest in Munich
  39. Heliski
  40. Finish 2 pork knuckles (eisbeins) in one sitting
  41. Be a mermaid
  42. Visit the Aral sea
  43. Leave my ‘mark’ on at least 7 world wonders
  44. Own my own homey home
  45. Travel in a hot air balloon for an extended distance
  46. Lasso a cow
  47. Climb a pyramid
  48. Organize a rock band to crash a Justin Beiber/ Celine Dion concert
  49. Get a random tattoo chosen by a stranger
  50. Lick a porcupine
  51. Patent something [preferably something awesome]
  52. Complete a half iron man
  53. Swim the golden mile
  54. Tame a wild animal and make it my pet
  55. TP a national monument
  56. Sheer a sheep and turn it into dashboard fluff
  57. Get someone else to add this task to my list
  58. Smash a guitar rock star style
  59. Pick up at least 17 hitch hikers in an abnormally small car
  60. Set a Guinness world record
  61. Fly a helicopter
  62. Travel over land and sea (ie: flightless travel) from Australia to Spain
  63. Walk across a country
  64. Never be in debt
  65. Transiberian railway
  66. Cross the Bearing sea between Russia and Alaska
  67. Marry two people
  68. Skinny dip in every ocean
  69. Learn how to play guitar
  70. Swim in a pool of money
  71. Throw a handgranade
  72. Finish the Lord of the Rings trilogy
  73. Write a song and actually sing it to people
  74. Learn a third language
  75. Learn a fourth language
  76. Get my dive license
  77. Bungee jump
  78. See the northern lights
  79. Motorbike across south America
  80. Kite surf
  81. Great barrier reef
  82. Pirate swing from one boat to another to commandeer a cup of tea and some cake
  83. Mug a hobo
  84. Orchestrate a mass burning of evil pop music CDs
  85. Running of the bulls
  86. Moon a president
  87. Submerge in a submarine
  88. Lick a president/ royal
  89. Tell someone the entire story of my life sparing no details
  90. Break out of prison
  91. Build and live in an igloo for as long as weather permits
  92. Live to be 100
  93. Hike the whole coast of RSA
  94. Open a backpackers hostel
  95. Own a bar
  96. Drive a monster truck over a car
  97. Travel on an iceberg
  98. Never have a 9-5 job
  99. Win a major competition
  100. Own my own boat
  101. Find and eat the world’s hottest chilli
  102. Do a Mexican wave in Mexico
  103. Cycle from Norway to Cape Town (or vv)

 You only have one life...  Make sure you love it!




Thursday, September 20, 2012

The Life of a Dead Kitten

On our second day as illegal Indonesian immigrants (Sunday), we found a kitten.A kitten so small it's eyes hadn't opened yet- meuwing helplessly under a tree - squirming at the pain caused by the puncture wounds in it's neck and the ants biting their way into it's flesh. Next to it lay its dead brother.

We just stood and starred. And eventually James bent down, picked it up and stroked the ants off it's trembling body. The silence was deafening, there were big decisions to make here: We could put it back down and walk away like nothing had happened. We could try find someone else to take it in. We could help it find rest faster. Or we could get completely involved and do what we could to nurse it into catfulness.

The silence shattered as our footsteps wondered off in search of milk. "Can we call her Ninja?" I asked "because Ninjas never die." And that's how "Ninja Taracat" came into our lives.


She had a 50/50 chance of survival.

I sat on the roof of the yacht that evening pondering life (and stitching curtains). Nobody has a clue how long they have on the planet - it could be 20 years - it could be 120 - either way, life is flipping short.

Mine flashed before my eyes as I listened to the shrieks from below as James washed the maggots from the wounds.  I contemplated the things I'd done with my life: childhood tree climbings, flying lessons, those awkward high school years, uni, the spectrum of bizarre jobs I'd acquired over the years, people I'd met, places I'd traveled.


The crash helmet indicates that I may have been accident prone from an early age!
I don't know why I thought this picture appropriate.
 I remembered small accomplishments:



And bigger ones:
17000 km in a little car that never should have made the drive to Mongolia
I started jotting down a list of random life memories.... then I tried to squat a mosquito and threw my pen over board and went to get a new one.

Down below, Ninja TC had stopped crying and started taking in milk.At last!



Coated in deet infused mosquito repelant and with a brand new pen, I continued my list and thought long and hard about what I'd be doing with my life if I'd taken a career seriously or if I'd never caught the travel bug or if I'd settled down and bought a goat or... I suddenly remembered what we all know but seldom remember: It doesn't matter who we are, what we do, where we do it, it doesn't matter what our past has held - it's up to us to be make sure we make the most of every second of the now for however long we have to live it.

Solomon, allegedly the wisest man to ever have lived, once said [probably in Greek or Hebrew, but I don't speak either so you get English]:

"Young man, it's wonderful to be young! Enjoy every minute of it. Do everything you want to do. Take it all in. But remember you must give an account to God for everything that you do."
Ecclesiasties 11:9

And whether you're religious or not I think it's an important thing to grab onto. The only person you can blame for a life filled with regrets is you.

James stayed up all night nursing Ninja. In the early hours of the morning she died. At least we knew that everything that could be done for her was. She may not have lived very long and I was too scared to get to know her well, I didn't want to have to say goodbye, but she made an impact on my life all the same.

You only die once. Make sure your life ends doing something you love. Make sure you die happy. But please don't die any time soon!





Thursday, May 10, 2012

Off to be shot at...

So it's official, I've become a lazy slob, Northern Thailand has sucked me in and hippyfied me. And two weeks later I'm till sitting here talking about leaving... I almost did today - almost - but... 

I was so sure I was over cycling for ever - so sure I was ditching the bike, so sure I'd be doing something new and meaningful (or at least easier) but I've just spent a lot of money (Almost $15) replacing tyres, repairing spokes, changing bearings and brake cables and buying a bell; and now I'm committed. It's me and Mao (the bike) to the border - hills and all!

I'm excited though (not quite enough to actually leave, but excited enough) - from here (Chiang Mai) it's a 5 day cycle to the border (Chiang Saen) where I shall hopefully board a boat and sail all the way into China. They've recently suspended the passenger ferry because of Bermese/ Chinese/ Loatian military shoot outs, but there are supposedly cargo ships that may [or may not] carry a maximum of two passengers for the 3 - 5 day float up the Mekong, all the way to Jinghong, the capital city of a Chinese province I've never heard of; and if I survive that (the internet seems to suggest I'm likely to be shot at and with my Thailand belly I'm an easy target) I'll be South East Asia free and in a whole new world where hot air balloons cost $10 000 (anyone want to sponsor??) and electric bicycles run free and donkey taxis exist (as a food source too) and anything is possible.




And I will leave - eventually - I have to... but not today... today I might find a hammock and a  fruit shake... maybe some chang... come to think of it, today's going to be to a tough one.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Avoiding Death, Elephatitus, and Busses. (In that order)


It was a rough day watching my little Mao (the Chinese tyrant bicycle) be loaded onto the roof of an unroadworthy bus and sadder still watching former cycle buddy, Rohan, pass us three times. It was only once I was on the bus that I grappled with what I'd just signed up for - a 250 km journey that would take 9 hours. According to my googled calculator, this comes to about 27.777777777 km/hr and my Grand mother drives faster than that. I instantly regretted the decision but the rusty doors were bolted shut and the shockless bus was on the crawl.


It gets worse too - by the time I arrived a good many lifetimes later, I felt like death. And once I'd checked into my "China-Food Hotel" and found what used to be a mirror, I discovered that I looked it too. I had elephantitus or something very similar. To put it bluntly, I looked like the incredible hulk - not green or anything but swollen to the point that my eyes ears had almost dissappeared. My legs were tree trunks. My arms Oprah-Winfrey wings. My belly looked like one those African kids with the kwashiorkor and my neck had been swallowed by my shoulders. Worse still my throat had swollen shut and I was struggling to breathe. I climbed one flight of stairs and had to sit down - I was pretty sure I was about to die. Don't worry though, I didn't.


Trying in vain to find a pharmacy or some elephant tranquilizers (which would have possibly worked better) I was talked into booking a tour and I really am not sure why but for some reason it made sense at the time. Regret!!! I spent the whole night tossing, turning, gasping for air, throwing up. Repeat. The morning had me swollener still and I had no painkillers. I had no medication and I had no time to find any because I was already late for my pretty expensive tour.

I’m not sure why I thought a tour of ancient fields of clay jars would have been good anyway. Yes they were big and old and ruinsy, but they were really just pots – old school vases with stale water inside of them instead of pretty flowers. In my state I had little appreciation for the “mystical valleys of Paksovan” and even less for the never-ending bumpy dirt roads that shot spasms up my spine.


6 hours of old pots later I finally made it to the doctor. He wasn’t there. His wife phoned him for me and I tried to explain in a language that wasn’t anything close to English what my symptoms were. The wife handed me a pack of orange pills and another one full of yellow ones and told me to have one of each at every meal. I still have no idea what either are. But I’m hoping for the best…

Then I took the second set of necessary precautions for my near demising state and dragged myself on to a place renowned for recovery – Vang Vieng. It’s the kind of place where everyone has cuts and bruises and broken limbs and accidental amputations and weird drug addictions and massive life problems and well, there I was just about normal.


A couple of hard days of zip-lining, floating down the river, ladder jumping, beer pong, dancing, staying up till ridiculous o’clock the afternoon and relaxing in a hammock I was almost as good as new!


Two things I’ve learned from all of this:
1)    Busses are very bad for you.
2)    Beer is probably necessary.