Galapagos: Sea lions, oh my ….

sea lions, Galapagos, beach, lava

Enlarge all photos for greater impact.

An endangered species, Galapagos sea lions breed exclusively in the Galapagos – or on little Isla de la Plata off the coast of Ecuador. There are 20,000 to 50,000 of them, down about 50% from 30 years ago.

They are threatened by el Ninos, which are expected to increase with global warming, and sharks and killer whales when they venture far out in search of, yum yum, sardines.  . . . not to mention fisherman nets and poachers looking for a profit on bull penises sold as aphrodisiacs.

sea lions, Galapagos, beach, sea lion group

 

Otherwise, their lives consist of swimming, sleeping in the daytime sun, lolling on and over each other, mating, mothering, and being cute or elegant (take your choice) furry bags of blubber.

sea lion, Galapagos, lava beach, lava, sleeping mammal

 

sea lion, Galapagos, lava beach, sleeping mammal

sea lion, sleeping sea lion, sleeping mammal, Galapagos, face of sea lion, baby sea lion, baby mammal

Why they are called sea lions, or sea wolves (“lobos marino” in Spanish) instead of sea dogs or sea bears makes no sense.

Look at this face. Their faces convince you they are safe even when you are warned to stay 12 feet from the bulls.

sea lion, bull sea lion, Galapagos

 

(Bull to right, not quite as cute.)

 

 

 

But what’s important is: I SWAM WITH A SEA LION!

Sammy, the guide, ever vigilant to my happiness, tapped my flippered foot and pointed. Fifteen feet away, among the rocky crevices, was my new dance partner. As I approached, she came towards me and began to whirl, twirl, and make loops and circles with her body. It was I who backed off. Less than three feet between us crossed my comfort zone.

She broke away once to chase off two smallish sharks 12 feet below (oh, yeah), then swam back, looked me in the eye, and we danced again. Later she danced with others, and that was okay because we danced longer, and she loved me more than she loved them, and I think of her every day. And I miss her, and I hope she thinks of me, and . . . and . . . .

Reality: the mothering aspect of sea lions is peculiar. Once a baby is a week old, its mother returns to the sea in her daily (nightly) food search. Things happen. She might not return, in which case the baby is doomed. It will not be adopted by another mother.

sea lion, sea lion mother, sea lion cub, nursing sea lion, Galapagos

 

Mothers identify their babies by the sound of their “bark” and their smell. It works both ways. Babies sniff their way across piles of sleeping seals to their mothers where they attach themselves to a teat and suck loudly as they too fall asleep.

 

sea lions family, sea lion, Galapagos

 

In sum: sea lions are sculptures in fur, varying in color from gray to gold. They cannot be awkward, though . . .

sea lions, Galapagos, sleeping sea lions

young sea lion, Galapagos, running sea lion, sea lion, beach

. . . the sight of a sea lion scrambling across sand has cognitive dissonance to it. How does that work?

They flipper to everywhere – to a pier bench, a tubular slide of a children’s playground, to the top of the stairs of the first leg of the climb to Darwin’s Lake.

sea lion, Galapagos, sleeping sea lion, sea lion on park benchsea lion asleep, Galapagos, sea lion in child's slide, sea lion

 

 

 

sea lion at top of stairs, Galapagos, sea lion

 

 

 

Sea lions just are. They have no appointments and not much to say. You want them to be here forever, to loll, sleep, mate, and swim in loops and whirls, and circle 8’s for flabbergasted tourists.

You want, actually, to lie down next to them in the sand, to see their dreams and just be.

Galapagos, sea lions on beach, Patricia Smith, Patricia Smith Melton, beach, sea lions

Galapagos: iguana ravings

marine iguana, galapagos, iguanaIF THERE ARE PEOPLE who can talk rationally about the iguanas, especially the marine iguanas, of the Galapagos Islands, I am not among them. Neither was Darwin, nice polite young rich guy that he was.

marine iguana, Galapagos, lava rock

I encourage you to enlarge all photos for close up inspection.

 

 

The iguanas are too freaking weird. Jurassic weird. A thousand-minds-working-as-one weird. Stare you down weird. My great-great-grandmother was a dragon weird – and she flamed people like you for dinner.

marine iguanas, Galapagos, iguanas

 

There are two major groups of iguanas in the Galapagos. See photos (right, above, and throughout) of marine iguanas finding you only mildly interesting.

Land iguanas tend to be somewhat larger and more colorful than the marine iguanas, which are unique (“endemic” is the word) to the Galapagos and swim in the ocean next to your rubber panga (dinghy) alongside sea turtles, miniature penguins, sea lions, pelicans and other birds, and various fish, and the occasional shark.

Land iguana, which stay high and dry, are in two photos below only.

Galapagos land iguana, iguana, Galapagos

galapagos land iguana, iguana, Galapagos

 

 

 

 

 

How iguanas got to Galapagos is also beyond my rational thought. Land iguanas on a floating tree trunk traversing more than 500 miles of open sea from the coast of what is now Ecuador? Then, over thousands of years the low-life, early-adaptor cousins branched off to get fish from the sea while the patriarchs held command of the high ground of lava and ashy sand? And it would have had to be more than one iguana on that log. Life is two by two, after all.

I mean, it must be possible. It had to have been. The penguins had to have arrived via the Humboldt Current from Antarctica. This is 6000 miles, shortest route. Were they looking for better prospects? Escaping religious persecution? Or did a couple just go out for a romantic evening swim and get carried away for, like, forever?

galapagos penguin, Galapagos, penguin

Then, once to the barren lava islands, their offspring became smaller and smaller until they are now only 50% larger than a football. I’d guess it has to do with keeping cool at the equator, which is why they are in the water a lot and why when on land they tend to hold their flippers out to protect their feet and why they pant.

 

Returning to iguanas: marine iguanas are charcoal color for the most part and  camouflaged on the lava rock and sand. They hang out together. See photos, and squirm.

marine iguanas, Galapagosmarine iguanas in groups, marine iguanas, Galapagos

 

 

 

marine iguanas in sun, Galapagos, marine iguanas, sun worship

 

 

And they are cold blooded – but you knew that – so they like the sun. Sammy, one of our guides, calls them the original Aztecs, sun worshippers. And who wouldn’t be, waking up on cold volcanic rock at the equator where you would have assumed, wouldn’t you, it would be warmer?

See photos, and imagine basking, surviving the cold.

Marine iguana males are vaguely territorial, probably heightened by it being mating season for reptiles and amphibians in the islands. See photos, but do not replicate.

fighting marine iguanas, galapagos, mating, reptiles

fighting marine iguanas, Galapagos, mating ritualsI

I saw mating sea turtles, giant land tortoises, and Galapagos lizards. None of it romantic. Galapagos male lizards try to eat the females while mating and sea turtle males don’t care if the females drown. See my comments on that and photos at blog titled “First Thoughts on Millennia of Lava.”

Marine iguanas hang out with their own, but have a symbiotic relationship with birds that can clean ’em up, are benignly curious about sea lions, and can’t avoid the ubiquitous red crabs. See photos, but do not imagine warm fuzzy friendships. (Look closely for black bird on back of iguana.)

marine iguana with bird, marine iguana, galapagos Galapagos, marine iguana, sea lion

marine iguanas, red crabs, Galapagos, lava rock

I saw a 1000 marine iguanas, surely. They are everywhere, ignoring you while submerging you in primal recollections. I envied their communal life, lack of responsibilities and of guilt, and their sense of being present where they are – and their fearlessness even if not because they are courageous but because it doesn’t enter their group mind that anything would harm them.

marine iguanas, Galapagos

galapagos, marine iguanas

 

That said, probably better to see one than be one. They can’t read and they can’t laugh. They cuddle, but do they love?

Galapagos, marine iguanasmarine iguana, Galapagosmarine iguanas, Galapagos, lava sand

(See photos below. Enter the silence.) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ecuador: hummingbird, just because . . .

. . . just because it is so beautiful, and blue, and purple, and green, and incandescent, and its wings and heart have the same velocity.

hummingbird, Ecuador

Magnify photos for personal pleasure!

. . . just because the hummingbird flitted into my view, pure gift, moments before leaving Ecuador, after a week in the Galapagos with the big birds: blue-footed boobies, miniature penguins, Galapagos hawks, wide-winged frigates, flamingoes, and pelicans, plus Darwin’s finches.

hummingbird, Ecuador

 

. . . because beauty is to be shared.

 

 

 

 

 

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… because hummingbirds are traveling light.

 

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Galapagos: first thoughts on millennia on lava

We tourists skitter the shallow crust of the earth at a place where other humans – indigenous pre-Columbian people, pirates, buccaneers, conquistadors, eccentric colonists from Europe, and assorted other opportunists – have threatened but not yet entirely ravaged most life forms here. I believe the marine iguanas have the survivability of cockroaches but with more cool panache.

. . . oh, there was a long break in thought process here. My morning Dramamine for motion sickness has hit my system and you, dear reader, have become as hazy to me as the timelessness of this place.

[Insert photos here to avoid meaningless chatter about eons, blue-footed boobies, souls of reptiles,etc.]

Sea turtle, galapagosMarine iguana, iguana, galapagosimage

We are on the equator, but it is not so very hot. I’ve been too busy looking rather that listening to understand the science of that even though the guides have explained it repeatedly.

There were 500,000+ sea turtles here, now down to a small but protected fraction of that number after the slaughter of pirates, traders, marauders, and opportunists. We are not to touch anything, flora or fauna, for fear of contaminating the recovering balance. We are to STAY ON THE PATH and to follow the guides, and I prefer Sammy as my guide as both knowledgeable and friendly, while Alex asks you later what you remember and Lenin is endearing but newer.

So, we swim with the sea turtles who glide by a few inches under our bellies and we try not to step on marine iguanas the slate grey color of the lava sand and that are lazy and fearless, and we do not disturb the naps of sea lions whose fur radiates in the sun.

[Insert more photos as examples of radiating fur and lazy camouflaged iguanas.]
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I realize, dear reader, that I am not being concise about the real natures of these animals. They baffle me and I can see them only from a human perspective. Do they think? Do they dream? I am in a Galapagos-cradled haze and will let photos explain the benign disinterest of the animals in us. Now we are harmless, the slaughter is over.

Do you have any idea how these creatures got here thousands of miles from anywhere else? Some rode the cold Humboldt currents up from the Antarctic. Others would have flown from far astray and then evolved into species that exist no where else. Others arrived afloat downed trees or rafts of matted sea stuff.

The plants came by sea, or wind, or bird poop. A lot of things were helped by bird and animal poop. The poop of the sea lions contains an enzyme that allows the primitive but iron clad digestive system of the land turtles (behemoths that they are) to eat and digest cacti, branches, and other fibrous stuff. Their poop is in effect 80% twigs stripped of greenery, moisture, and sap. Poop is a major ecological catalyst here, as is mating.

[Insert photos of mating land tortoises and sea turtles.]

Tortoise, turtle, land tortoise, turtle mating, galapagosimage

Male land tortoises are much larger than the females, and they live to be 150 years old, and they keep growing most of that time, and during mating season they are right in there with the lads of only 100. The male we watched catch and lose and catch again a female of maybe only 20 years could not have cared less that 10 or so people were up front and personal with them, while the female just wanted to get away.

Sea turtles are not so charming, either, once you have seen a male mounted on a female without care or concern that she may be drowning under his weight. There seems to be an evolutionary flaw here unless you count that weaker females end up as food for bottom feeders. To be specific, the smaller male rides her and if she is not strong enough to get her head out of the water for air at a minimum of once every eight minutes, the show is over. There is a reason females are larger than males. They have to be. Once the first male is finished, the next in line has his turn, thus 80 to 120 or so eggs from different fathers will be laid in deep holes dug and covered by the mother on raised sandy shores. (Note in photograph female is hardly visible as one male is on top and another close behind.)

This is a Herculean task. Once there, the eggs will mature and hatch after about 60 days. If the sand is below 86 degrees F the little nippers will be mostly males and above 86 degrees they will be mostly females, a potential disaster if global warming continues. The mother helps regulate sexual distribution by pissing into the lower layers of sand to make them more compact and, thus, cooler . . . returning again to the multi-utility of animal body “waste.”

Galapagos lizard males, fast little critters with some resemblance to road runners, sometimes eat the females while mating, another seeming design flaw unless you count that maybe the stronger females can fight back enough to live despite a few nips out of her hide.

[Insert photo of aggressive male with female trying to escape even though a still photo doesn’t show the speed and whip-arounds.]
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And then, you have sea lion mothers who refuse to adopt orphan babies whose mothers disappeared for whatever reason and the little orphans slowly wither next to the fat, sleek healthy babies that never lost their mothers. And now you always look to see if the babies are fat and happy, or not.

And you see the marine iguanas that lounge over and on each other like one organism until the mature males get testy about who owns the territory and the females in it. Teeth are bared and they become miniature land dragons lacking only the ability to spew fire. Instead they hiss saliva. No one ever said evolution was pretty. Ruthlessly efficient maybe, elegant no.

[Photo of marine iguanas acting tough.]
Marine iguanas, iguanas fighting, galapagos

Basically animal life here is about food, sleep, poop, and procreation. And getting from place to place in order to eat, sleep, poop, and procreate. Some fly, some swim, and some crawl, all on top of volcanos formed from the molten center of earth exploding upward as all things hot under pressure explode sooner or later to the surface.

Once something works, it works. Sea turtles don’t need to change, they’ve survived, baring humans and a couple other large predators. It is only necessity that is the mother of evolution. Or more aptly, it is advantage that creates change, without the awareness of the evolving species. Did a single cormorant note the moment when they traded the ability to fly for the ability to dive deeper into the sea for food? Did a penguin? Do they dream of flying? I doubt it, with all those little fishes digesting in their bellies.

Neither awareness nor curiosity enter into it. Understanding who I am and what my place is on planet Earth doesn’t enter the consciousness of a penguin or a shark. But it does for us. We wonder and ponder and strive for answers BECAUSE we have questions about what we don’t know. We know we don’t know. We are aware of distant past and distant future, of geography beyond what is in front of us, and that species evolve.

We have this deep need to record everything and make sense of it, and to turn it into permanent images and words and share it with others of our species. We have a need to say “I was here” if only for a moment.

 

Ramada Inn and Beyond

Dear friends, this is my message after a night on the lesser side of Houston where I have just left the Ramada Inn (the lesser of two Ramada’s) to plunk down at the United Club at the airport, and where I am stuffing myself with “pure butter shortbread” cookie thingies.

The things I have learned in the past 24 hours:

1) if you are destined to miss your plane, you will no matter how fast you run from the end of one terminal to the end of the other.

2) when an airline says they will put you up for the night, it does NOT mean at a luxury place or a place near to the airport (and they will fudge what they tell you or deflect or otherwise be unhelpful.)

3) locked windows policy does not apply to 3-story Ramada’s, which is good because opening a window clears away the bug killer smell.

4) you can be satisfied with a dinner of canned peaches from a salad bar at a place named Hot Biscuits that also, btw, serves breakfast at $3.99.

5) “Velvet” is the name of a real woman who works the night shift at the Ramada and she is sweet as they come.

6) there are automatic waffle makers that make damned good waffles. Now if only the syrup were the real stuff and the butter pats weren’t frozen.

7) the breakfast waitress calls you “ladybug” and you shouldn’t be flattered. She calls all women that.

8) closets, bathroom counters, complimentary toiletries, something in the minibar are all unnecessary luxuries. A good bed is a necessity, and it was.

9) what they lacked in ambiance was compensated for by the largest best selection of whiskies in the area, judging by the hang dog clientele draped over the bar through the night.

10) I enjoyed it, immensely, especially in the past tense. And now back to reading “Origin of the Species” and eating shortcake thingies. Next stop, Quito.

Photos below: note cement bags in lobby

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Checking in

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Fatima Gailani: President of the Afghan Red Crescent Society

Since 2004 Fatima has been President of the Afghan Red Crescent Society, arguably the most powerful woman in a position to bring positive change on the ground for the Afghan people. Fatima returned to Afghanistan at the beginning of 2002 after 23 years in exile, dating from the Russian invasion when she and other members of her prominent family fled to safety in a last-minute escape complete with family jewels hidden inside baby’s clothing.

Fatima Gailani, Red Crescent, Afghanistan

During exile Fatima was a media personality in London and a spokesperson for the National Islamic Front of Afghanistan, a political party founded by her father Pir Sayed Ahmad Gailani (Pir Saheb), prestigious leader of the religious order of Qadiriyyah Sufi in Afghanistan.

How I met Fatima: Days before returning to Kabul, Fatima was at my home outside of Washington, DC where she and other women experts in the nature of peace spent three days answering the question “What is peace, and how can women build it?” That meeting led to my founding Peace X Peace (“peace by peace”), the first social network connecting women to other women around the world. It grew to include thousands of members in 130 nations. Also in my family room were the novelist Isabel Allende, Susan Collin Marks, executive vice president of Search for Common Ground; Barbara Marks Hubbard, author and founder of the Foundation for Conscious Evolution; and Dr. Azizah al-Hibri, professor of law, Qur’anic expert, and founder of Karamah: Muslim Women Lawyers for Human Rights.

I had called Fatima, as a stranger, at her home in Providence, RI where she lived with her husband Dr. Anwar ul-Haq Alhady, a tenured professor of political science at Providence University. After hearing my request, she turned to Anwar and said, “I don’t know why but I’m supposed to be at this meeting. I know we set our date to return, but I need to delay a few days.” She arrived with the others through a snowstorm, and her grace, humor, and wisdom infused our days of finding answers on how to build peace through women.

Fatima Gailani, Patricia Smith Melton, multi-cultural womenThe documentary: Eight months later I went into Afghanistan with an all-women crew to document her work and the education of girls and women. The film, “Peace by Peace: Women on the Frontlines,” debuted at UN headquarters in New York in the fall of 2003. It showed women building the social components of peace in Afghanistan, Bosnia, Argentina, Burundi, and the U.S. It aired on PBS television and around the world.

The Gailani compound: When the crew and I flew into Kabul, we were with Fatima on her second return. On landing she was greeted by an entourage with red roses. The Gailani family is revered, and I was to learn that she takes such recognition in stride and with grace.

The family compound where she was raised was taken over first by the Russians who used a large secondary building to hold prisoners and then by the Taliban who used the same building for torture and imprisonment. After the Taliban’s fall the compound was returned to Pir Gailani who used the same building for tribal leaders who were temporarily displaced. They sat in a circle under a large tree Fatima had planted as a girl and told me they became accustomed to women in the workplace during the Communist rule.

Reading Fatima’s comments, keep in mind a woman who combines confidence with a whimsical sense of humor that serves her well in one of the world’s most difficult jobs.

Fatima, was it a decision of your heart or your head to return to Afghanistan?

For me it was not an option. I was forced to leave but every second of my life was to prepare myself so I could come back to help my country. I was so sure I would return that  I would dream about my house in Kabul. I knew the details of the curtains and the chairs    I would buy. My mother would say “Are you crazy? The Russians are there, we are in exile, and you are decorating your house in Kabul!”

Later when I married Anwar, I would tell him about my garden in Jalalabad. At first he thought it was a joke and went sort of “ha ha.” I said, “It’s not ‘ha ha.’ What trees do you want in our garden in Jalalabad?” Anwar said, “Are you crazy? The Taliban are sitting in Kabul. Do you even have a piece of land in Jalalabad?” I said, “No, but I will be having a piece of land in Jalalabad. What trees do you want to plant?” He said, “Thank God we are already married because if we had had this conversation before, I would have thought you were absolutely crazy.” I said, “I am crazy but for my country and I will be going there.”

So we came back and after a couple years my father gave me the most magnificent piece of land in Jalalabad, huge and beautiful, ruined totally of course. It had seven mature palm trees, but nothing else except a panoramic view of the Spin Ghar, the white mountains. Imagine palm trees where your surroundings are mountains full of snow!

Today we have all the citrus trees you can imagine. Two weeks ago we got our first grapefruits, we got our limes from there, we had only six oranges but we will have more.

I knew I would be building things. I knew that I would be working in Afghanistan. The only thing I was praying to God was for health and enough lifetime to return.

Mine Awareness program, Fatima Gailani, Afghanistan, Red Crescent

Fatima leading mine awareness program.

Do I get tired? Yes, and there are times         I miss sitting in a café without being recognized. I miss going to a supermarket, choosing my own fruits. I miss the freedoms one has in the West but I would do it again.     I would come here again – and here I am.

Has the last decade affected your dreams for Afghanistan?

I never thought that I would find a rose garden. When I returned after almost 24 years of war and the Soviet invasion, and fighting over language and ethnicity, a civil war, the competition of Shias and Sunnis, the competition with the neighboring countries . . .        no, I knew I would return to a totally destroyed country.

But did I think that Afghanistan would be in the list of most corrupt countries of the world? Absolutely not. I remember a very clean Afghanistan, people who were so honest. I remember a king who would walk on the streets of Kabul like a Swedish king or a northern European king. So it is devastating to see my country in the list of most corrupt countries. I am devastated we still supply more than 80 percent of the drugs in the world.

I expected the collapse of the juridical system, education system, and health system, which are repairable. But when the morality of a people is destroyed the people have to rebuild it for themselves. These things break my heart. But will I give up? Absolutely not.

What is the relationship of the Red Crescent to the Red Cross?

The Afghan Red Crescent is partially self-funded through vast properties it holds within Afghanistan, while certain projects get additional funding from the Red Cross/Red Crescent Societies of different nations in the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies. Some projects are also supported by the International Committee of Red Cross.

     Responsibilities of the Red Crescent Society of Afghanistan 

Red Crescent, Afghanistan, Red Cross, Fatima Gailani

Responding to floods in northern Afghanistan

      • Disaster preparedness and response
      • Emergency health care
      • Youth and volunteer training
      • Support for war victims
      • Health services
      • Welfare houses in Kabul, Mazar-e-Sharif, Herat, Kandahar, and Jalalabad
      • Dissemination of information on Red Cross and Red Crescent
      • Raising mine awareness
      • Treatment of children with Ventricular Septal Defect (having a hole in their hearts)
Community health programs, Red Crescent, Fatima Gailani, women

Women in health programs

Red Crescent, Afghanistan, Fatima Gailani,

Emergency supplies

What is the initiative for children with holes in their hearts? 

Tens of thousands of children in Afghanistan are born with this condition. Finding out why is the job of the UN and the Ministry of Health, but I found the way that thousands of these children have been sent abroad to be operated upon. These things make me so happy that to be president or a minister or to be in the political wheeling and dealing,  . . .    I don’t think I am interested.

But when I was in your father’s home in 2003 you said you might run for President of Afghanistan. You smiled, but I think you were not completely joking. You asked your brother if he would vote for you, a woman, and he hesitated. 

I don’t know if my brother hesitated about voting for a woman or voting for me, or because he thought if we both ran, I could win.

Under our constitution a woman can run for the presidency, but the reason I don’t want to run for the presidency is not because people will not vote for me. I assure you among the 11 people running for the presidency today – I hope it wouldn’t sound too pompous – but I have much more chance than they have. The reason I don’t want to run for the presidency is, as I said, that I find things more important in my work with the Red Crescent.

Fatima Gailani, Afghanistan, Red Crescent, Media

I remember like yesterday, Patricia, when I came to your meeting and looking outside and seeing the beautiful snow. I called to tell you afterwards that maybe those days in your house changed my life. Well, they did change my life. The future of women became more important for me than my own political future.

Then, in the Red Crescent another eye opener happened. When I came here, it was not only women who live in misery.

461220A huge number of people live in misery, the majority of children live in misery. Sometimes families are cruel to their children. People produce children without any thought and they can’t feed them and send them to the streets so they will be a source of income. We have to rescue these children. This is so unacceptable that changing this is much more important to me than being in politics.

Outside the four walls of my garden or my parents’ garden or my sister’s garden, I see the people’s poverty, their discomfort, and the extraordinarily expensive city that Kabul has become. Afghanistan is too expensive and not affordable for the people of Afghanistan. These are the things that bother me.

Are you in personal danger?

I never have armed guards. I don’t even have guards, I don’t have anyone with weapons around me. I have one person who sits in the car next to the driver without a weapon so if  the car doesn’t work or we’re in a traffic jam, I have someone with me. Yes, I have been twice in great danger and it was from a huge explosion at the Indian Embassy because I live next to the Indian Embassy. Was the target me? Of course not.

In Afghanistan, like in Iraq or Syria or many countries, it is very important that you take precaution. Don’t go unnecessarily to places that are not safe. And if you happen to be in a wrong place at the wrong time, then it is your luck. That is it.

What is Anwar’s position now?

He was Governor of the Central Bank, and then Minister of the Department of Finance, and then Minister of Commerce and Industries. He wanted to run for the presidency, but for whatever political reasons that is not happening. This was sad for me because as the first lady of Afghanistan, I could have done a lot. As President of Afghan Red Crescent Society, I am doing things that are appreciated by the people of my country, but had I been an example for women of Afghanistan as the first lady, I could have changed lots of things for women and children. I could have opened the eyes of women outside my country to see that together we could change the situation of the people, especially of women and children.

If you are serious about changing the situation of women in any country, you have to start with your own family. One reason that in the late king Zaher Shah’s time the situation of women improved was because all the women of the royal family were involved. Princess Belqees was the head of women volunteers and worked with people directly. Her daughter Princess Maryam was a maternity nurse who would go and take the hand of a woman villager giving birth, so changes came faster and were more accepted.

Today the women in their own families are kept locked with the expectation that changes should come through other people’s wives and daughters and sisters and mothers. It cannot work like that. In my family all the men and women are involved in social work.

What will happen in the upcoming presidential elections? 

The candidates are almost equal and are known to the country equally. They are also known equally to the Western media, which makes a huge difference for the outcome. Almost all have worked with the government at a very high post, and they either did well or they did not do well or they could have done better.

Also, lots of military changes are happening but, above all, huge financial changes will happen because lots of people will lose their jobs when the NGOs (non-governmental organizations) run away from the country. Most of the Western barracks of the soldiers will close down, and most of the men and women who work for them will lose their jobs. So we will have a very bad financial shock. This makes it a little bit dangerous. Will the candidates be able to go to the provinces and to the villages? Will they meet with the people directly or introduce themselves only through media?

Do you believe the government needs to be based in religious law?

We have a constitution. You don’t change the constitution every day. It doesn’t happen in other countries and it will not happen in my country. The Afghan constitution is based on Islamic law as it is in many other countries.

If democracy is the rule of people then this is the wish of the people. If you knock at the door of any Afghan person, they will tell you exactly what they want, and this is what they want.

I was one of the commissioners for the constitution. I traveled to five provinces and in every district of that province, a constitution based on Islamic law was what the people wanted. So if we claim that we want democracy, then this is democracy because it is what the people want.

When I was in Kabul twelve years ago most women still wore the burka, but they were organizing, going back to school.

Afghanistan, girl, salute, Red CrescentThe changes for women are a revolution. Millions of educated girls are rising every day. I don’t think anyone could lock these young women up. They are educated, in touch with the people, and don’t like the imported feminism. They have their own feminism with roots in this country. They are very active, and very visible in our parliament, both the upper house and lower house. And they are visible in civil government, and in universities, especially private universities where they are almost 50 percent of each class.

The women are eager to do much better than men because, like anywhere in the world, a woman has to be better than a man to get the same job. You know it is a fact that, with the exception of a few northern European countries, everywhere in the world you have to be much stronger and better than a man to get the equal job.

Has equality come? Not yet. But in the constitution women and men are dealt with equally. On paper, in laws, and in new laws to come the voice of women is being heard. If we are ignored, we make sure we just impose ourselves so we will be equal with all other members of the society.

The burka is not an issue. We want educated women with burka or without burka. If a woman wants to wear a burka, no one should be allowed to tell her not to wear a burka. If she doesn’t want to wear a burka, no one should be forcing her to wear a burka.

We have a new fashion, very elegant outfits, very conservative but beautiful with matching scarves. You will be surprised at the fashion that has come that suits our environment, our religion, and the requirements of our country.

But we hear of terrible things still happening to women. 

Terrible things happen in Kabul and outside of Kabul. They happen because it takes a long time to stop these in any country, but the most important thing is that now people have the courage to report them, to say something wrong has been done to their daughter and they want justice. Instead of being ashamed and killing their daughters to hush up a dishonor, now reporting horrible things that happen to women has become common.

But there is a huge difference between the big cities – Kabul, Mazar, Herat, Jalalabad – and other provinces, districts, and villages. But even in the districts, because of the radio and other information, people know how to report abuses. Nonetheless, bad things happen and we have to find ways to stop them.

Fatima Gailani, ethnic women, Red Crescent, Afghanistan

What is really difficult to accept is that still women mostly don’t get their inheritance rights because, especially outside the cities, the inheritance is land and men are reluctant to lose the power of owning the land of their fathers and forefathers. This is why more than 80 percent of women in villages don’t get their rightful Islamic inheritance as written in the Quran. This should be among the easier things to fix.

 

Has anything changed regarding the poppy crop?

I don’t know where cultivation has changed or hasn’t changed as this is the responsibility of the Ministry of Counter Narcotics. But in defense of most people who cultivate poppies,  I have been saying for 12 years that our people have very little land, and nothing has been done to educate them not to produce too many children. They have to feed their children and there’s no governmental social welfare to take care of their children. So they cultivate what makes the best profit from their little land. Unfortunately in the majority of places, it is still poppies, even though the poor man who is cultivating them doesn’t get much money.

Rose oil is worth more than opium. Saffron is too, and the saffron of Afghanistan is the best in the world . . . but did we do anything to open a market for it? Did we help the farmers to pack it? Did we help them to collect it? For one or two years farmers grew the saffron, but at the end the farmers had to leave their towns to sell the saffron at a very low price.

That same saffron when it goes across the border is sold at a very high price in the name of Iranian saffron. So very little has been done to help these people to sell their alternative crops. If we help them, I think at least 50 percent of the problem could be solved.

What are you most proud of in your work at the Red Crescent?

Maybe my expectations of myself are a bit too much, as no matter what I do I feel I’ve only fulfilled one of my duties. But I am proud of the comradeship I have created. Most of my employees are much younger, but we can communicate with each other. If they have a critique, they express it openly.

If you have a complaint of your mother, you say “Mother, I don’t like the way you cook your cake. Put in a little more sugar or less sugar” or “I don’t like the topping.” So they tell me how to change things and most of the times because they are connected to regular people, it improves my work, so I am  proud I have that open door with my employees.

A last word?

There is one thing that I am proud of for myself that is not directly to do with the Red Crescent – I have killed the desire of political aims and political gains and political wants that a human being may have. Today I can honestly tell you I have no political ambitions. All I want is to help these people who have no comrades to help them. That’s all I want.

That was not an easy thing. This I am proud of for myself.

 

 

 

LACES OF REMBRANDT

Some things are perfect in themselves, require no explanations. Flower petals, for example, are not metaphors for other things, they are wholly themselves, unexplainable, irreducible. Bird song, the same.

Rembrandt

Laces painted by Rembrandt require no explanations, they are irreducible, they are their own reality, larger somehow than what they represent. (All images in the blog can be enlarged for better viewing.)

The paint of them, the white of them, the brush strokes step outside of time and history and reference, the way feathers are timeless, the way whispers are forever, the way intrigue and make-believe and dress-up travel through time.

Rembrandt, lace

Rembrandt

That’s sort of the way with Rembrandt, though the humanity in his self-portraits shocks you into knowing the man behind the painting, the real human of complexity who understood white and lace, especially against black.

Last Friday at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (NYC) the laces stopped me on my way to see the Vermeer paintings a few galleries further on. Surrounded by hundreds of masterpieces, the laces are stunning in their confidence of what they are.

Rembrandt, lace

Rembrandt, laceRembrandt, lace

STENDHAL SYNDROME with KANDINSKY: at the Neue Galerie

STENDHAL SYNDROME or Florence syndrome: a psychosomatic disorder, a sort of attack, named after the 19th century French author Stendhal who was taken over by it on an 1817 visit to Florence. He wrote that when he visited the Basilica of Santa Croce he saw Giotto’s frescoes for the first time and went into “… a sort of ecstasy, … absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty … where one encounters celestial sensations …. Everything spoke so vividly to my soul. I had palpitations of the heart. I walked with the fear of falling.” Named in 1979 by an Italian psychiatrist who observed more than 100 cases among visitors to Florence, the illness includes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion, and even hallucinations when an individual is exposed to particularly beautiful art or a large amount of art in a single place, such as what would happen at the Uffizi.

Today it happened to me. At the Neue Galerie in NYC. With Vasily Kandinsky. Direct transfusion from the canvas to my sensory receptors. Lights popping. Knees weak. And why not? If not today, when?

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VASILY KANDINSKY (1866-1944): first artist to formulate concepts of an art, and create art, of abstraction that would generate emotions without needing or using specific subject matter.

It’s mostly about the colors being “just there,” hanging out, having conversations with each other. “Black Form” can be dissected into about ten different sections, each a marvel of jewel tones nudging each other or shooting across one another. Then you put it all together and … become speechless.

Black Form (1923). Click to enlarge.

Black Form (1923)
Click to enlarge

It’s not that I suddenly discovered Kandinsky. He’s had a special file in my brain for decades. What is it about these Russians? I saw Mikhail Baryshnikov in the play “Man with a Case,” based on two Chekhov stories, at the Shakespeare Theater last week and the effect was about the same.

No, I’ve always know about Kandinsky, I’ve just never seen so many of his paintings in one place, and there are 80 separate works at the Neue Galerie at 5th Avenue and 86th Street, New York.

Building

 

 

The mansion was completed in 1914 and lived in by industrialist William Starr Miller and later by Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt III before being purchased by Ronald Lauder and Serge Sabarsy in 1994 to become an art museum. The Neue is home to several famous Gustav Klimt paintings, and has a charming Viennese café specializing in savory krauts and decadent desserts. I had the Linzer Torte.

Back to Kandinsky and colors: a week ago I wrote about sensuality v. sexuality and how sensuality incorporates the entire body’s responses to touch, taste, sound, sight, and smell. His paintings enter through your sight, of course, but he was greatly influenced by his love of music, especially of Arnold Schoenberg’s compositions that broke from having a central motif and are referred to as “pantonal,” though more familiarly known as “atonal.” Also he was intrigued by the concept of Gesamtkunstwerk, or total work of art that combines art, music, and theater. Further, he experienced color as sound and sound as color, which had to have been a handy gift.

white_sound_1908

White Sound (1908)
Click to enlarge

SYNESTHETE: one of the very rare people, including Kandinsky and other brilliant people such as Nabokov, Liszt, and Richard Feyman, who saw colors when other senses were stimulated. (For Feyman, it was his physics equations.) For Kandinsky, he saw the colors for his paintings when hearing music. Here for your viewing, and perhaps listening, pleasure is “White Sound.” While it may take a moment to absorb the first onslaught of color, once you have, it turns into something amazing.

This overlay of art forms captivated him. Perhaps because it is how he experienced the meshing of his senses, i.e. his sensual life. He compared painting to composing music, saying “Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the hammers, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand which plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.” He called this devotion to inner beauty and intensity of spirit and spiritual desire as an “inner necessity.” His book “Concerning the Spirituality in Art” was published in 1910.

improvisation 31

Improvisation 31 (1913).
Click to enlarge.

In the largest exhibit room were several of Kandinsky’s most famous and beautiful works, including a personal favorite, “Improvisation 31, Sea Battle.”

I know if you look for them, you will see figures and things in his work. Particularly in “Picture with an Archer.” And that is charming and all. Some evidently refer to Russian or German villages and folktales. A bit of Chagall-esque stuff, but to me it’s irrelevant. Remember I’m in Stendhal syndrome. It’s about pure sensation, not story lines.

Archer

Archer (1909)

 

The abstraction is the color. You can touch and taste it. And somehow the man mastered paintings that are visually 2 – 4 feet deep. They are neither 2-dimensionally “flat” on the canvas nor give the viewer a long depth of field. It’s as though you could reach in behind the surface and rearrange the parts if you wished, but only for a couple feet of depth.

In 1914 he painted four panels for the villa of Edwin R. Campbell, co-founder of the Chevrolet Motor Car Company. At that time a Chevy looked like this:

Chevrolet Baby Grand

This should give you perspective on Kandinsky’s breakthrough genius. He was doing these gliding, flying, succulent beauties, these first abstract paintings, when cars were tin buggies.

The Campbell panels are below. The exhibition is open until February 10, 2014. Stendhal syndrome, too, can be yours!

Panel for Edwin R. Campbell No. 3   campbell panel 2   Campbell3  Campbell panel 4

THE FRENCH: porcupines or hedgehogs?

Don’t tell me the French are rude, it’s starting to make me grouchy. The French, mostly, are not porcupines, but hedgehogs curled in on themselves until they feel it’s safe to uncurl.

This leads Americans, mostly, to feel that waiters and shopkeepers are condescending, arrogant, and snooty – just the sort of the thing that rubs out-going Americans, especially those worried they don’t know the secret codes of style and élan, the wrong way.

Yes, I am exempting the occasional long term waiter who feels a Gallic duty to live up to tourists’ expectations of him, but they can usually be surprised into friendliness by a warm smile and gentle inquiry about fruit tarts.

On my recent stay, I LOOKED for rudeness, I searched for it, but I kept stumbling into warmth, and sly humor, and sensitive politely-done care. A street musician playing Bach on the flute was bashfully apologetic that the playing wasn’t perfect. (It was.) An elderly man told me in French I was “so gracious” because I’d moved over to make room for him as we passed. The list is long and graced every moment.

And once the French have checked you out and uncurl, you are cherished for a long time.
I stopped by the restaurant FISH to make reservations for dinner. When I arrived that evening, the table reserved was where I used to sit, in the window with my standard poodle Max. The chalkboard reserving it said, “KING POODLE.” If Max were still living, he would be 18 years old. He hadn’t been to Paris in seven years. Yes, he was an elegant dog who loved window shopping and art galleries, but it was seven years ago.

reservation sign

At YVELINE Antiquities, Niloufar said, “The last time you were here you looked tired, like it was a hard time. We were worried.” Well, it was a hard time, it was a disastrous time, but it also more than two years ago and I’d been in the shop then thirty minutes max.

At Juliette OZOUF, a boutique of luscious clothes in dusty pastels, Vladimir virtually danced at seeing me. Any woman would love his unbridled joy: “Oh, how long are you here? Oh, it is good to see you. How is your dog, your beautiful dog?”

So, let’s say you are going to Paris. Where are a few choice places in my old neighborhood, the 6th arrondissement, that you should visit?

More information on the above:

FISH La Boissonerie (69, rue de Seine) for a delicious, not expensive meal inside a Roman interior, with a fine selection of regional wines. Cozy ambiance, a place to make memories. My favorite neighborhood restaurant. Owned by Drew Harre, as is the wine shop “La Derniere Goutte” nearby.

Boissonneries

Juliette OZOUF (20, rue de l’Echaude) for a focused selection of elegantly “loose,” draped clothing in knits, cottons, silks, and linens. The dusty pastels are seductive and perfect for every women looking to up her style creds. In the photo I’m wearing the silk scarf I bought the first day of my return to Paris and that I have worn every day in the five weeks since.

Juliette's shop

YVELYNE Antiquities (4, rue de Furstemberg) on Place de Furstemberg, perhaps the most photographed small court in all of Paris. The owner Anne’s exquisite selection of antique furniture, paintings, lamps, wooden artist’s models and curios is a treasure. But please don’t treat her shop only as an amusement shop for browsing. Enter with your eyes open for possibilities of what “objet” can bring joy to your life.

Yvelines

Also, and equally delightful:

GAGGIO (16, rue Jacob) for a stunning selection of Venetian velvet scarves (I own 8!), purses (own 3), slippers (3 pair), jewelry, jackets, vests, and pillows, and glassware. Pure luxury! Tell Pierre-Michel I sent you.

Gaggio

LADUREE (corner of rue Jacob and rue Bonaparte) for tea, lunch, or brunch inside the prettiest of the tea shoppes of this famous luxury macaron Mecca, with two other tea shops in Paris, plus London. Buy boxes of macarons to take home as reminders and gifts.

LadureeLaduree window

Ultimately describing the French is an elusive task, perhaps better given up from the start. What I know is they make me smile even when a tad abrupt at first, and they make me uncurl, safe to be eccentric, to dance, and be beautiful. Yes, safe to uncurl.

Merci, mes amies.

PARIS NOTES #7: It’s time to leave Paris

dog on Paris streetIt is time to leave Paris. I was ill and confined for three days, but now recovered enough to function but not play. My timing is off. My photos of dogs consist only of their tails and hind sides as they trundle or scamper away. My photos of kisses are taken after the fact. My photos of children are uninspired. (The earlier photos will soon be posted in my blog in the Photos section.)

So, I am packing, and making runs to buy books and macaroons (chocolate mainly), and children’s hats as gifts.

man in scarf at cafeLosing my edge as a photographer, I look not for the exact moment that epitomizes something but at the full array of people and faces in front of me, and discover that men are looking at me. Men alone, men with other men, men with women. It may be the wan ethereal paleness of three days of coughing, or my younger Jeanne Moreau slightly baggy eyes. I look in mirrors and window reflection man lookingand see nothing different even as I feel different. Have I become unaggressive without the camera or vulnerable, and so tap into male care-taking energies? It’s slightly unnerving.

photo copy 6Two nights ago my friend Ruth and I went to the National Opera House (Palais Garnier) to see Ballet de l’Opera. She had gotten tickets for one of the red velvet (or were those walls carpeted?) loges that emits the smell of every longing and conquest and devastation and brilliance that ever occurred inside it or on that magnificent stage in 140 years. I saw photo copy 11modern dance that seared my eyes and brain with brilliance and passion: choreographers Saburo Teshigawara, Jiri Kylian and Trisha Brown. The color and sound, and silence, and integration of Gregorian chanters and photographs and videos enhanced that dancers were moving in ways that people cannot move, and expressing the undecipherable secrets of life and death, their bodies calligraphy. And I only had one photo copy 12coughing fit the entire time. Yeah, I was that person others wished would have stayed home under the covers.

So it was a good ending, except that it is not where I am going to end. I am going to end with this photo of a young man at the restaurant where I had lunch yesterday. Art is alive here if you combine looking with seeing.

This was the one really good photo of the day. Tell me, is he Raphaelite or Durer-esque?

Au revoir.

man with teapot