A Second Kind of Loneliness

It’s the loneliness of people trapped within themselves. The loneliness of people who have said the wrong thing so often that they don’t have the courage to say anything anymore.

The loneliness, not of distance, but of fear.

The loneliness of people who sit alone in furnished rooms in crowded cities, because they’ve got nowhere to go and no one to talk to. The loneliness of guys who go to bars to meet someone, only to discover that they don’t know how to strike up a conversation, and wouldn’t have the courage to do so if they did.

There’s no grandeur to that kind of loneliness. No purpose and no poetry. It’s loneliness without meaning. It’s sad and squalid and pathetic, and it stinks of self-pity.

Oh yes, it hurts at times to be alone among the stars
But it hurts a lot more to be alone at a party. A lot more.

Extract from ‘The Second Kind of Loneliness’ from DreamSongs I - George R. R. Martin
Published in Great Britain in 2006 by Gollancz

Paradise Gardens Festival 2009

Last weekend I went for the Paradise Gardens festival in Victoria Park, East London.

I avoid East London as much as possible. Unfortunately for me, because it has the largest Asian and Black population in London, it’s the only place I can get my hair and eyebrows done at reasonable prices so I venture there once every 2 months.

Its streets are dirty, crime ridden, with crumbling buildings that screech ‘deprived’. Londoners were quite bemused to learn that in April, the travel section of the New York Times was encouraging tourists to visit Deptford advertising it as ‘London’s Wild West’ and nearby New Cross is supposedly ‘hip’
The metro newspaper quoted a local bar maid, “All I can say is I hope they like hoodies, muggers and junkies"

Pretty much sums it up. I could add to her list,
‘Chavs’,
So-called white supremacists (why do they always live close to the people they hate?)
Muslim extremists,
Cockney gangsters

Before you East Londoners take offence and ‘come after me’, there are some bits (emphasis on bits) of East London that look nice. Even though you have to bolt yourselves in your houses for fear of burglars. Government is pouring loads of cash in a bid to regenerate the area in time for London Olympics 2012. So maybe there is hope that at least for that one month it will look better?

Whoa!
This article started out as a field report on the Paradise Gardens Festival, and now it’s become a lesson on why you should avoid East London

Yati and I had a picnic just by the big stage in the middle of the park that had live world music (e.g. Gipsy, Reggae) throughout the afternoon. Yati and I go for many free music festivals, and noted a familiar solo figure dancing in front of the stage. We’ve debated on whether he is homeless or not – but his clothes and the handkerchief he uses to wipe the sweat off his face look clean. He twirls about, lost in the music waving his hands above his head; sometimes moves jerkily to a rhythm that is only in his mind. Other dancers give him a wide berth although once in a while, someone will join him where by he’ll get excited. Very entertaining! He must have spotted us laughing hysterically at him because during a break he came up to chat. His name is Roy. We complimented him on his dancing saying he was “a pleasure to watch” He replied “That’s not the only way I give pleasure” Ha ha ha (ewww!)

A couple of friends joined us later. We stopped to buy Italian ice-cream from a cute Albanian ice cream man called Nimak. He told us that he wasn’t Italian but would like to learn the language. I pointed at Giulia “She is Italian”… wink wink… “She could teach you. What do you think of her?” “Yeah she’s cute” “Shall I give you her number?” He passed me a piece of paper and I wrote it down” (ok I was a bit drunk). Giulia (also a bit drunk) who had been laughing throughout the whole exchange asked me “You didn’t give him my real number did you?” He phoned her the next day that started with “Hi, I’m the ice cream man” They’ve arranged a date this week. Watch this space
Mark (of the fangs) was also there and asked us to join him at the ‘White Mischief’ tent. It was advertised as a place that combines unique live musical acts with some of the most astonishing vaudeville and circus performers around. We got to know Mark a bit better. He is a ‘dandy’ (“I am NOT a Goth. Goth’s are a bunch of middle class kids who hate their parents”) He wears heavy black eyeliner, dresses in black, his myspace page has photos of him modelling in various gothic stances and his stage name is Markabre Charade? Easy assumption to make!
I stand corrected! (And educated)

The most memorable act for me that day was MC Elemental, who does Victorian hip hop. He raps about subjects like ‘Tea’.
“When I say ‘Earl Grey’ you say ‘Yes Please’…
‘Earl Grey?’… “Yes please”; ‘Earl Grey’… ‘Yes please’
When I say ‘Oo’ you say ‘Long’
‘Oo’… ‘Long’; ‘Oo’… ‘Long’

Charming!

Sardinia Part 2

I'm disappointed that no one picked up on cliff hanger from my previous post! Oh well, good job I like writing, even if it is for the audience of one. Although that was not good for my ego I tell you.
My sister insists that I should publish this blog into a book. I don’t understand where she’s coming from since very few of you read it, and those of you who stumble across it don’t come back or even leave a comment to let me know that you’ve been. I am clearly not pandering to the ‘blogging’ public
My brother and his friend, Francesco gave us a lift in their hire car to Agririposo Olivar, which about a km from Alghero town centre. It is a beautiful guesthouse, quiet, clean and nestled in an olive grove. The large rooms were bright and colourful (ours was orange). The Irish couple in the next room recommended the sea-facing restaurants in old Alghero town so in the afternoon we set out to have lunch.We found a seafood restaurant, Aquatica Bar Lounge Restaurant, on the water's edge. The menu had a choice of 3 sea food platters, 17 Euros for small, 22 Euros for medium and 25 Euros for large. The waiter told us that the small platter was too small, but the large one would be enough for 3 people. So we went with his recommendation. The food was brilliant and we thought 'Bargain! We'll come here everyday!" When the bill came, we found out to our shock that the actual cost was 25 euros per person. We called the waiter over to clarify - yes that was the price. I felt really cheated! I know that we're tourists, but don’t they owe their customers a duty to be clear on their pricing. TIP: When you are next in Italy, before ordering remember to ask if the advertised price is ciascuno (pronounced CHAS -KOO- KNOW) the Italian word for 'each'
EC and Francesco caught up with us, and then drove us around the north west of Sardinia. Although he grew up in Rome, Francesco's paternal relatives are originally from Sardinia, and he spent a lot of his childhood here. He took us on a sightseeing drive to beautiful beaches like the salt pebbled beach of Saline- where the sea was crystal blue; to posh Stintino on the north western tip of Sardina where we spent an afternoon lazing on the popular white sand La Pelosa beach. the tranquility was only spoiled by constant interruptions by Senegalese and Indian hawkers selling goods ranging from beach towels to costume jewellery. We also went to the towns of Porto Torres, Lu Bagnu, Sassari, Sorso, CastelSardo - a seaside town built around an imposing castle high up on a mountain.

On our last evening, Francesco's friends, Pasqualino and Antonella, invited us over for a barbeque. There was a lot of meat, aubergines with a parsley dressing, local Sardinian wine. His other guests were friendly- didn’t speak a lot of English, and so it fell to me to do most of the translating. My Italian needs a lot of work! I observed that the Italian girls barely touched their food and drink and were content to just eat the raw fennel on a tray in the middle of the table. Whereas, us foreigners ate like starving refugees, and drunk so much wine and the after dinner liquer. We were embarrassingly drunk.
Sardinia is lovely! I wouldn't live there for fear that I would take itfor granted. A lovely holiday destination, with great beaches and hospitable people

Do you remember, the most important for those tourist trap restaurants?

CIASCUNO!

Sardinia Part 1

I wish I still had a camera
But even photos would not do justice to this lovely island off the coast of Italy

For the last 4 years I have been travelling to Italy for my birthday. I didn’t think it would happen this year because of a poor financial situation. I'd even stopped attending my weekly Italian classes because there was no motivation to keep learning. What's the point if I'm not going to practice it.

A couple of weeks ago Yati phones me up to ask
“Can you get Monday’s off work? How about a long weekend in Italy?”
“Yeah, that would be lovely, but I am broke, so aint gonna happen”
“Don’t worry about that. Emily and I are paying for it”
“What? For everything”… ( in case she was winding me up)
“I’m serious, give me your passport details and I’ll book the flight”

Can I just say how overwhelmed I am by the generosity of my friends? I really don’t deserve them! I really don’t!

And so early Thursday morning, I was at the departure gate in Stanstead airport ready to board the plane to Alghero, Sardinia.
I heard someone call my name, and squinted at some dodgy looking black guy with a tall cream hat. Hang on a minute, that’s my brother,
“What are you doing here? Where you going?”
“Alghero”
“Me too”
“You guy. Are you stalking me?”
“What do you mean I’m stalking you, I didn’t even know you were travelling”

Won’t bore you with the details but conversation carried on in the same vein.

It was one of the best things that could have happened on this holiday...

Reflections on Worship

Yesterday afternoon I got a text from my friend Ruby saying,

'Mass text, I just win 2 free tickets to Beyonce @ O2 tonight. Hit me up for the spare, whoever gets back to me first gets it, Rubes x'

Well you know me and free things! I fired back a text with "Me!" but my mate Jules had got there before me! I grudgingly congratulated Jules for her luck and half-jokingly mentioned to my colleagues,
"Maybe I should call up Jules and say it was my birthday on Saturday and since she didn't give me a present, she should forfeit her ticket to the concert"

At about 6.00pm she calls me to ask whether I was still up for going to the concert!
"Is that a question? What do you think?"
She was feeling rough, and anyway as it was my birthday on Saturday, it's only right that I should go instead of her!
Result!!!

And so to O2 I went for the most brilliant concert I've ever been to in my life! Beyonce is AMAZING! She is gorgeous and had such stage presence. Her voice is outstanding. She belted out all the favourites like Baby Boy, Naughty Girl, Crazy in Love, Listen, Single Ladies, and then some not so known ones (at least to me) the girls in front of me were REAL FANS because they knew the words and dance moves for ALL the songs!
She graciously let the all female band share the spot light with her allowing them to showcase their amazing musicianship. Her Big Afroed lead guitarist (who used to play for Lenny Kravitz) was brilliant! And the backing vocalists called the ‘Mama’s’ had such powerful voices

The backdrop to the stage was a large screen with stunning visuals that complemented her, the songs. During the song Ave Maria one there were scenes of waves crashing, and background sounds of the ocean.


I was so impressed with the technical centre, the quality of the sound production; overwhelmed by the whole concert. I REALLY want to work in this field and it has given me the much needed push to pursue excellence in PA and AV.
Beyonce’s concert was celebration of herself. She’s worked hard to get there and it shows. Let her enjoy it and reap the rewards of her labour. Our adulation is temporary and will only last as long as she continues to scintillate and give us what we want. It is a sad truth that once the youth, glamour, good looks and voice start to fade, she will pass on into obscurity like the rest of yesterday’s stars.

Imagine how much more elaborate a production celebrating God would be!

There’s always a conflict in worshiping God passionately and self-indulgence. Where does one draw the line? For me, this is not a problem as I don’t enjoy the contemporary ‘indie’ or gospel worship songs that we sing in church. I just sing the lyrics. Although, sometimes there are cheesy lyrics like “I kiss the Son” by Tim Hughes (shudder) which (for me) is just awful!

I went to a Hillsong worship concert once which opened with a fantastic audio visual production showing shots of various natural wonders from around the world. This was overlaid with phrases like ‘God is the Creator’ ‘God is Awesome. In that moment, I believed it and was overcome with an awareness of just how awesome God as Creator is.
I wish I could showcase and celebrate the qualities, personality and character of God in a similar way. I don’t know how I can do this, but one day!

Birthday Weekend

You know those cartoons where the sleepy character has to prop their eyes open using matchsticks! I wish I could do that in real life! I am SOOOO tired. On hindsight I should have taken today off work. I was dozing in the Risk Management workshop- in front of clients!!!

It was an eventful weekend!
Friday night, a good friend Rob invited me for his wife Amy’s birthday dinner in a Middle Eastern restaurant called Darbucka. We lounged on cushions and ate delicious (though overpriced) food at low tables. I only get to see Rob once every 6 months, so make the most of it when we meet up.
After dinner I checked out Bantu night event that aims to bring together the Bantu speaking people of East and South Africa. We have similar words in our languages, and linked by the word ‘Bantu’ which means ‘people’ – hence Bantu people. Incidentally, when I went to South Africa I learnt that this has evolved into a demeaning term that was used to describe the ‘Blecks’ during apartheid. To use it there causes the same amount of offence as the word ‘nigger’ does to Black Americans.
The event was ok. I tried to befriend a group of Tanzanians and then Zimbabweans – but this was hard because everyone was sticking to their own. The Ugandans weren't very friendly either.I gave up and instead stationed myself in the middle of the dance floor for the rest of the evening. The music was good –mainly Ugandan pop which is a truly unique blend of traditional Ugandan, reggaeton, rap, lingala, hip hop and Jamaican dance hall styles of music. Kemi would have loved it. I left at about 1.30am, caught the trusty old night bus N29. Got home about 3 am–went to bed at about 5.00am

my 'baby' sister

Saturday dressed up as pirate and joined my fancy dress crew at the Tatershall Castle pub boat which is moored near Embankment station. My younger sister and B were just standing there laughing at the antics of my ‘fancy dress’ friends. I must admit they are mad. I met Mark, who has 4 natural fangs that have grown out on top of his other teeth- amazing. He told me that he once had them removed but they grew back. He’s a composer and works in theatre. I told him
“With those teeth you were definitely born for the theatre!”

I don't know whether you can make out the teeth in this photo.

We then made our way to Zoo bar off Leicester Square. The club has 3 rooms, each playing different style of music. I loved the Funky House/Dance music room. My friends (except Tiago and Giulia) who hate it, voted to go to the RnB room. The sound and air conditioning in that room wasn’t great so after a while I got bored and went back to the funky house room. An Algerian, Mohsin, homed in on me to dance, and then followed me back to the RnB room. He kept pestering me to go outside with him for a smoke. I’d had a lot to drink by this time, so Stuart stepped in and asked whether I needed rescuing.

Me and my Sicilian friend Giulia!

A couple of my favourite guys- Stu and Tiago

He took me to a sofa where we cosied up apparently looking so cute that someone asked whether we were married. (again!) Stu and I then had rather bizarre conversation about our 'wedding'. I’d be dressed in a bright red mini dress and the church would be decorated with disco lights, music set to funky house. Stu would be at the front dressed like a DJ waving his hands shouting, ‘Can I get a whoop, whoop!’ Haha. I glanced up and noticed Mohsin with a hurt expression on his face. What is it with these guys? You dance with them and they think you owe them? Left at 3.00am and got home at about 4.00am

Stu and me- cozying

Sunday Iwas on to do PA at morning service. No one to blame but myself really because I’m the one who does the technical team rota. How I managed to do it, with only 3 and half hours sleep- I don’t know. Lots of coffee! Jackie Guy - fantastic dancer

After service I went down to the South Bank Royal Festival Hall for the Bloom Festival that my good friend Jeanette organised for that weekend. I took part in the African Caribbean dance workshop that was taught by a Jamaican International Choreographer called Jackie Guy. He did not look his age of 73. He was cracking hilarious jokes! It was a lot of fun. Not only did he teach us some dance moves, but dropped in bits of Jamaican history and culture.

Got home at about 5.00pm, but had to stay up to watch ‘The Apprentice’ at 9.00pm . Was really pleased that Yasmina won this year. I went to bed at midnight.

Not bad going for a 34 year old eh?

The London Loop

The 140 mile London Loop, referred to as the ‘walkers M25’, goes around the London Greenbelt area (Zones 5 and 6). It features country parks, woods, stately homes, farms and the odd ugly industrial building.
Three years ago a colleague lent me a London Loop guidebook which broke it down into 15 sections of approximately 9 miles each. At the time, Yati, my sister Ngonzi and I were determined to tackle a section every other Sunday, however, interruptions like our unpredictable English weather, foreign trips etc have meant that we’ve only done a third of it.
There are several websites on the London Loop but the one I like best is this one by a guy called Stephen and his dog George. (Sometimes there’s another dog called Ellie). It's got nice photos of the walk and his dog is cute.

Last Sunday Yati, Jody, B and I walked the Petts Wood to West Wickham section. The guidebook said that the walk was 9 miles long, but I’m pretty sure we walked about 11 miles. It didn’t get up to a promising start. When we left the train station, ‘someone’ holding the guide book, got their left mixed up with right and we made the wrong turn. When we didn’t recognise any of the roads we stopped to ask for directions,
‘Uh Jubilee Park is one mile back that way!” (The way we’d just come! Hmmph)
B took over the guidebook and did a good job of navigating us through the rest of the walk. It was a pleasant day; the woods provided shade against the heat. Half way, we stopped at a lovely village pub and had a well deserved drink in its beer garden.

B was quiet as usual. I don’t know why he hangs out with me and my friends. He can’t possibly enjoy himself. There is just nothing in common. He is into history, current affairs, and politics. Whereas I am into gossip, guys, clubbing, films, fiction. (Just reading that sentence back I seem quite shallow. Heck…. I am shallow). Such a shame because he really is quite good looking!
I’d kind of hoped that B would hit it off with Jody. She tried to engage him in conversation, asking incessant questions but he only responded in single sentences- never volunteering anything extra. After a while it gets exhausting. Even for listeners. In the end she admitted defeat “He’s just too quiet!” She even asked him
“Why are you so quiet?” and he responded “I just am”
Oh well

Rivers in the desert

I’ve started June in negative bank balance. Not to worry… what are overdrafts for eh? Of course this means that the next month will start on the same note and the cycle continues. I feel really vulnerable – teetering on the edge of this abyss. I’m so dependent on this one job, credit cards and overdraft– which could easily be snatched away. There is no ‘safety net’- no investments, savings or rich relatives to bail me out. Each time I enter my pin number I wonder whether this will be the one that will push me over completely.
The way I deal with living in credit is with a ‘stick-your-head-in-the-sand’ mentality. I’ve got to deliberately NOT worry about the future, live in denial or I will go insane. This is a hard thing to do as I’m a worrier by nature. I keep things bottled in; wind myself up so tightly, and then in a moment of release it all comes out – often disproportionately to the situation. Yesterday during the sermon I burst into tears when I heard the words from Lamentations 3:17-26 (Contemporary English Version)

I cannot find peace or remember happiness. I tell myself, "I am finished! I can't count on the LORD to do anything for me." Just thinking of my troubles and my lonely wandering makes me miserable. That's all I ever think about, and I am depressed.
Then I remember something that fills me with hope. The LORD's kindness never fails! If he had not been merciful, we would have been destroyed. The LORD can always be trusted to show mercy each morning. Deep in my heart I say, "The LORD is all I need; I can depend on him!" The LORD is kind to everyone who trusts and obeys him. It is good to wait patiently for the LORD to save us.

I’ve made bad choices, but I think I’m where God wants me to be. I need to trust that he will turn this mess around. And if he isn’t turning it around quick enough for me, then he isn’t. Perhaps there are lessons I still have to learn- responsible stewardship for one.

I can choose to wallow in depression, or focus on the blessing that it is. One of my favourite verses is in Isaiah 43:19 where God says he ‘creates rivers in the desert’ (Amplified Version). And there have indeed been rivers. If I hadn’t been in this situation, I would never have known or fully appreciated just how kind my friends and relatives are. Ros and Jon lending me their car; Yati and Emily offering to pay for a holiday to Italy; Stuart buying me drinks at every social gathering; Paul bringing me loads of meat (Kemi remarked “He must have slaughtered a whole cow”) and Kemi who barely has anything, buying me the occasional little thing to bless me.

And so I praise you God for this shitty, unstable situation. I will try not to worry too much, continue to look for the lessons that are yet to be learnt, enjoy the blessings and wait on you. AMEN.