Redshift
I've sent out quite a few lengthy Christmas eMails to my friends all over the world. And, fortunately, I got plenty of replies as well. It is a good way to stay in touch with more distant relatives, former classmates and acquaintances I haven't seen or heard from in a long time.
This year one theme was way more noticeable than before. People described their latest acquisitions, things they had bought or were going to buy. Either they have more money to blow than before - while always saying that there isn't enough of it - or because they need to fulfil a growing need deep within them. Or, perhaps, this is only a symptom of getting older and living a middle-aged life? I don't know and I won't ask them, either. This shopping mania is something I wish to avoid for myself and I hope that nobody else in my family falls victim to this loathsome disease.
Theme number two is everyday life. The job, the children, the house, the garden and the car. No big plans for the future, nothing spectacular or exciting, but rather the quiet kind of life in the slow lane. The fast lane guys don't have the time to write lengthy eMails anyway. I think the fast-lane guys are interesting and I enjoy talking to them very much, but it certainly is no way I would like to spend my life. And vice versa I have to assume.
All of this feels like an accelerating red shift between me and my friends or between me, a few like-minded souls and the world in general. People who belong to my subspecies are more and more hard to find or maybe it is just statistics taking their toll as we all get older. In quite a few instances my friends said that they wouldn't like to live the way Aurora Ulani, Liping & I do and sometimes I detect a hint of disapproval, as if I were being irresponsible. I get positive responses as well, of course, but they come mostly from those friends who are on similar tracks or at least wish they were.
The others don't really understand what makes me tick and I don't really understand what makes them tick. Of course, everybody agrees that one should live one's live in one's own fashion but that leaves us still with fewer and fewer topics we can talk about.
Or maybe... Maybe I am simply stuck in adolescence, at least mentally? Perhaps they have matured and they realize what's really important in life? Could be, but somehow I think that isn't it. Genetics, then? When reading a book about Captain James Cook (not his alter-ego Captain James T. Kirk) recently, I stumbled across that theory to explain his continued adventuring, even when he was already world-famous and had been offered a very respectable and cozy job in Greenwich. He simply couldn't stand life ashore and after only a few weeks he went off on his third and final voyage which brought about his death in Hawaii.
Who knows, maybe this restlessness isn't only an expression of ennui, but a real physiological need for some people. Or look at Captain Joshua Slocum. He went voyaging all his life until the age of 65 - which is when he disappeared at sea. Or Bernard Moitessier, who kept adventuring until he was 69 - and promptly died when he stopped.
All only conjecture, to be sure. The only thing we know for sure is that the majority of the people is quite content to stay where they grew up, except for a few field-trips, so to speak, and a comparatively small minority who must forever keep wandering.
I am not entirely sure whether this "Wanderlust" is a blessing or rather a curse. It's interesting, that's pretty certain, but does it lead to happiness? Captain Bligh, yet another one of my heroes, certainly wouldn't think so. And at least as far as the third voyage is concerned, Captain Cook could by no means be called a happy or content man. Anyway, I entertain more than a few doubts about this issue. What if this urge was nothing more than a special kind of OCD? No way to feel "normal" until the urge has been satisfied. And the satisfaction won't last, either.
But maybe there's hope for us maniacs yet. Hopefully one day we will have had our fill and enjoy the simple pleasures of tending to the garden, sitting at a little pond waiting for the fish to bite or in a rocking chair looking at the sunset. Maybe.....
And maybe then the redshift will slowly turn into a blueshift as we approach each other again. If there is enough time, that is.
How does Monty Python sing again? "Always look at the bright side of life..."
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Friday, December 24, 2004
Went to see a psychiatrist today (10/19/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Went to see a psychiatrist today, who is of the opinion that I have a Major Depressive Disorder. He put me on 50 mg Zoloft and 10 mg Stilnox per day, told me not to stop drinking suddenly (but try to gradually reduce the daily amount) and to be patient for a month or so until the drugs to kick in.
Time for an update (11/10/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Been on that Zoloft stuff for three weeks now, but yesterday the doc changed the prescription to Dogmatil (Sulpiride). The Zoloft worked surprisingly fast and well, but the side-effects were simply too heavy. All day long I felt like I had drunk too much coffee, sleeping was only possible with Stilnox (Zolpidem), zero interest in sex and so on.
Since all the conversations had been in Chinese and I wanted to make sure that the doc really understood what was going on (and that I understood his replies, naturally :-) Liping came along to make sure of that. We had quite a little talk yesterday.
According to the psychiatrist, I will have to get used to the fact that I will have depressions for the rest of my life - but they aren't necessarily surfacing. And since there weren't any serious problems for so many years, he concluded that the added stress of having to take care of a baby is probably the main reason for my difficulties now. He also said that we should really re-consider whether it is a good idea to have a second child as that would make this period that much longer and make things much more difficult for me. Especially as I am not getting younger and as the quality of sleep also deteriorates the older one gets.
Another topic was drinking and alcohol. I have just found out that the sister of my ex-girlfriend has died because of drinking. That kind of explained why my ex was adamant that the only way to go is therapy and life-long abstinence. There are only a few problems with that.
~~~~~
www.sinorama.com.tw/en/show_issue.php3?id=200269106077e.txt&page=1
(...)
Alcoholism thus becomes the surface expression of, and behavioral escape from, the symptoms of their psychological case.
(...)
The incidence of alcoholism is about 1.5% in Asia, whereas it is as high as 25% in the West. The large difference between East and West is mainly due to the fact that there are differences among the body's enzymes that process alcohol, differences that vary with race.
(...)
Even the national health insurance program does not cover the costs of treatment for alcohol dependency.
(...)
Currently, Taiwan society offers little help to alcoholics. AA is not a compulsory organization, Taiwan has no mandatory "drying out" institutions, and there are no statistics on how many hidden alcoholics there may be.
(...)
~~~~~
AA as a quasi-religious organization is not acceptable for me and life-long abstinence is a) very hard to achieve and b) not really a very desirable goal as far as I am concerned.
The doc confirmed that there is really nothing at all available here, but he said that I may be overly anxious about the matter in any case. If I am able to reduce my drinking than I should just do that. He said that "social drinking" was acceptable and for the rest of the time I should try to stick to a maximum of two cans of beer per day.
So, after our little talk I checked out the information on "controlled drinking", the pros and cons and found all kinds of interesting information about the subject. One of the tidbits is that attitudes, even among professionals are very much determined by their cultural background. (Here we go again... :-)
~~~~~
Controlled Drinking versus Abstinence
www.peele.net/lib/cdvsabs.html
Why Do Controlled-Drinking Outcomes Vary by Investigator, by Country and by Era?
Cultural Conceptions of Relapse and Remission in Alcoholism
(...)Miller found that only in Germany among the European nations he visited, where alcoholism treatment was hospital-based and largely medically supervised, did the commitment to abstinence as the sole goal of alcoholism treatment approach the climate in America. (...)
www.peele.net/lib/cdoutcomes.html
~~~~~
Another was a link to an outfit called MM or Moderation Management, which seems to me to be a much more reasonable and evidence-based method of coping with excessive drinking. Here, abstinence is just one of the options and the focus is much more on damage-control. The big picture, so to speak.
But the best argument as far as I am concerned, seems to be this one: If you manage to stick to your plan of controlled drinking, then that's that. And if not, you at least know that a more radical approach may be required.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Depression, Anger & Alcohol (11/18/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so the story goes
Didadi, didadidadidadidadidadi
Even before I could open my mouth, the doc told me that it was time to change meds once more. Looks like the Dogmatil (Sulpiride) was only interim medication as it ain't such a good idea to switch just like that.
We were wondering whether the stuff was working at all, as I had begun gnashing my teeth again and started to act like a miserable old bastard once more. It was almost as if I wasn't taking anything whatsoever.
Soooo.... Now I am on 150mg Wellbutrin (Bupropion) per day, which will be raised to 300mg the second week. So far I have only noticed some mild side-effects (seeing shining golden "glowworms" and experiencing "earthquakes" which only exist in my head), but can't tell whether it has any effects on my mood. Time will tell.
~~~~~
I joined a few online discussion groups of www.moderation.org, especially the Abstar one and try to limit myself to two standard drinks (1 SD = one small can of beer at 5%) per day during the week. Easy when the mood and the weather are good, more difficult when not. As to the weekends, I refuse for the time being to give up my social drinking, especially as the doc is okay with it, too.
http://p196.ezboard.com/fhopsmaltyeast12305frm2.showMessage?topicID=124.topic
Christmas Eve (12/24/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am now on 450 mg Wellbutrin/Bupropion per day & it still doesn't really work - although I don't seem to be gnashing my teeth anymore. Tuesday I'll see the doc again and I guess he'll put me on yet another medication. As to the drinking... Look for "Holg" over here: http://www.moderation.org/abstar/
In general, I feel that things are going in the right direction - but they move slower than a tortoise with arthritis...
Merry Christmas everybody!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Went to see a psychiatrist today, who is of the opinion that I have a Major Depressive Disorder. He put me on 50 mg Zoloft and 10 mg Stilnox per day, told me not to stop drinking suddenly (but try to gradually reduce the daily amount) and to be patient for a month or so until the drugs to kick in.
Time for an update (11/10/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Been on that Zoloft stuff for three weeks now, but yesterday the doc changed the prescription to Dogmatil (Sulpiride). The Zoloft worked surprisingly fast and well, but the side-effects were simply too heavy. All day long I felt like I had drunk too much coffee, sleeping was only possible with Stilnox (Zolpidem), zero interest in sex and so on.
Since all the conversations had been in Chinese and I wanted to make sure that the doc really understood what was going on (and that I understood his replies, naturally :-) Liping came along to make sure of that. We had quite a little talk yesterday.
According to the psychiatrist, I will have to get used to the fact that I will have depressions for the rest of my life - but they aren't necessarily surfacing. And since there weren't any serious problems for so many years, he concluded that the added stress of having to take care of a baby is probably the main reason for my difficulties now. He also said that we should really re-consider whether it is a good idea to have a second child as that would make this period that much longer and make things much more difficult for me. Especially as I am not getting younger and as the quality of sleep also deteriorates the older one gets.
Another topic was drinking and alcohol. I have just found out that the sister of my ex-girlfriend has died because of drinking. That kind of explained why my ex was adamant that the only way to go is therapy and life-long abstinence. There are only a few problems with that.
~~~~~
www.sinorama.com.tw/en/show_issue.php3?id=200269106077e.txt&page=1
(...)
Alcoholism thus becomes the surface expression of, and behavioral escape from, the symptoms of their psychological case.
(...)
The incidence of alcoholism is about 1.5% in Asia, whereas it is as high as 25% in the West. The large difference between East and West is mainly due to the fact that there are differences among the body's enzymes that process alcohol, differences that vary with race.
(...)
Even the national health insurance program does not cover the costs of treatment for alcohol dependency.
(...)
Currently, Taiwan society offers little help to alcoholics. AA is not a compulsory organization, Taiwan has no mandatory "drying out" institutions, and there are no statistics on how many hidden alcoholics there may be.
(...)
~~~~~
AA as a quasi-religious organization is not acceptable for me and life-long abstinence is a) very hard to achieve and b) not really a very desirable goal as far as I am concerned.
The doc confirmed that there is really nothing at all available here, but he said that I may be overly anxious about the matter in any case. If I am able to reduce my drinking than I should just do that. He said that "social drinking" was acceptable and for the rest of the time I should try to stick to a maximum of two cans of beer per day.
So, after our little talk I checked out the information on "controlled drinking", the pros and cons and found all kinds of interesting information about the subject. One of the tidbits is that attitudes, even among professionals are very much determined by their cultural background. (Here we go again... :-)
~~~~~
Controlled Drinking versus Abstinence
www.peele.net/lib/cdvsabs.html
Why Do Controlled-Drinking Outcomes Vary by Investigator, by Country and by Era?
Cultural Conceptions of Relapse and Remission in Alcoholism
(...)Miller found that only in Germany among the European nations he visited, where alcoholism treatment was hospital-based and largely medically supervised, did the commitment to abstinence as the sole goal of alcoholism treatment approach the climate in America. (...)
www.peele.net/lib/cdoutcomes.html
~~~~~
Another was a link to an outfit called MM or Moderation Management, which seems to me to be a much more reasonable and evidence-based method of coping with excessive drinking. Here, abstinence is just one of the options and the focus is much more on damage-control. The big picture, so to speak.
But the best argument as far as I am concerned, seems to be this one: If you manage to stick to your plan of controlled drinking, then that's that. And if not, you at least know that a more radical approach may be required.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Depression, Anger & Alcohol (11/18/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so the story goes
Didadi, didadidadidadidadidadi
Even before I could open my mouth, the doc told me that it was time to change meds once more. Looks like the Dogmatil (Sulpiride) was only interim medication as it ain't such a good idea to switch just like that.
We were wondering whether the stuff was working at all, as I had begun gnashing my teeth again and started to act like a miserable old bastard once more. It was almost as if I wasn't taking anything whatsoever.
Soooo.... Now I am on 150mg Wellbutrin (Bupropion) per day, which will be raised to 300mg the second week. So far I have only noticed some mild side-effects (seeing shining golden "glowworms" and experiencing "earthquakes" which only exist in my head), but can't tell whether it has any effects on my mood. Time will tell.
~~~~~
I joined a few online discussion groups of www.moderation.org, especially the Abstar one and try to limit myself to two standard drinks (1 SD = one small can of beer at 5%) per day during the week. Easy when the mood and the weather are good, more difficult when not. As to the weekends, I refuse for the time being to give up my social drinking, especially as the doc is okay with it, too.
http://p196.ezboard.com/fhopsmaltyeast12305frm2.showMessage?topicID=124.topic
Christmas Eve (12/24/2004)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am now on 450 mg Wellbutrin/Bupropion per day & it still doesn't really work - although I don't seem to be gnashing my teeth anymore. Tuesday I'll see the doc again and I guess he'll put me on yet another medication. As to the drinking... Look for "Holg" over here: http://www.moderation.org/abstar/
In general, I feel that things are going in the right direction - but they move slower than a tortoise with arthritis...
Merry Christmas everybody!
Friday, December 03, 2004
The Teufelchen Event
Tuesday night I almost bought it, Stephen King style.
I was doing my midnight walk and was already halfway up the mountain, when I spotted Teufelchen - or at least a black cat very much resembling him. Years ago, when he was still a tiny kitten, I had picked him up in the middle of the city-highway and now he is roaming Garden City, where I live.
When I call "Teufelchen", he comes to me and wants to be petted, rolling around on the ground with obvious pleasure. I noticed a bunch of idiots driving their Honda Civic, Subaru Impreza or some such recklessly up and down the mountain. Very noisy special exhaust pipes and those guys were smack in the middle of a very quiet residential neighborhood. Did I mention that it was just past midnight?
Anyway, Teufelchen lured me to the other side of a parked car and just as I was bending down to play with him some more, there was a terrific crash. Splinters of glass were flying everywhere, the alarm system of the car I was standing next to was making an unbelievable noise and I got such a fright that I was shaking.
A car had smashed right into that parked car, its front resembled an accordion and the drivers head had smashed the front shield. Of course he was bleeding and of course I didn't carry my cell-phone. Fortunately I could flag down one of the irresponsible drivers, who carried his mobile phone with him and therefore could call for help. People came out of the neighboring houses, as they had been woken up by the crash.
That's when I realized that I would have been on the other side of the car - if it hadn't been for Teufelchen.
Tuesday night I almost bought it, Stephen King style.
I was doing my midnight walk and was already halfway up the mountain, when I spotted Teufelchen - or at least a black cat very much resembling him. Years ago, when he was still a tiny kitten, I had picked him up in the middle of the city-highway and now he is roaming Garden City, where I live.
When I call "Teufelchen", he comes to me and wants to be petted, rolling around on the ground with obvious pleasure. I noticed a bunch of idiots driving their Honda Civic, Subaru Impreza or some such recklessly up and down the mountain. Very noisy special exhaust pipes and those guys were smack in the middle of a very quiet residential neighborhood. Did I mention that it was just past midnight?
Anyway, Teufelchen lured me to the other side of a parked car and just as I was bending down to play with him some more, there was a terrific crash. Splinters of glass were flying everywhere, the alarm system of the car I was standing next to was making an unbelievable noise and I got such a fright that I was shaking.
A car had smashed right into that parked car, its front resembled an accordion and the drivers head had smashed the front shield. Of course he was bleeding and of course I didn't carry my cell-phone. Fortunately I could flag down one of the irresponsible drivers, who carried his mobile phone with him and therefore could call for help. People came out of the neighboring houses, as they had been woken up by the crash.
That's when I realized that I would have been on the other side of the car - if it hadn't been for Teufelchen.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
What exactly is "New Age"?
What exactly is "New Age"? And what are "New Agers"?
I've been wondering about this a bit recently, and I am having trouble separating New Agers from what the Hippies were doing in the 60s.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Age versus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippy
To tell the truth, I am still not entirely clear on the subject. It seems to me, as if New Agers were a subgroup of Hippies and that the groups of New Agers and Hippies still overlap in many areas, especially as far as religion, mysticism, magic and so on are concerned.
Can anybody shed a bit of light on this one?
http://www.hipforums.com/forums/showthread.php?p=655177
I've been wondering about this a bit recently, and I am having trouble separating New Agers from what the Hippies were doing in the 60s.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Age versus http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippy
To tell the truth, I am still not entirely clear on the subject. It seems to me, as if New Agers were a subgroup of Hippies and that the groups of New Agers and Hippies still overlap in many areas, especially as far as religion, mysticism, magic and so on are concerned.
Can anybody shed a bit of light on this one?
http://www.hipforums.com/forums/showthread.php?p=655177
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Saturday, March 13, 2004
Happy Birthday, Jack!
Exactly 82 years ago today Jean-Louis Kerouac alias Jack Kerouac was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Boy, did that guy ever have an influence on my life!
While he is most famous for "On The Road" and he himself apparently considered the books about his childhood and early life as the most important, I got inspired by his most commercial piece of work -- The Dharma Bums.
I was still a teenager living in my hometown of Flensburg when I first read a German translation. I was instantly on fire. Finally here was a guy who did exactly what I wanted to do! And not only that, he also opened a few doors and windows into realms I had not even considered. Zen? I didn't have the foggiest notion, but I was determined to investigate it.
California was a bit far away, living in a wooden shack would have been suicidal in our temperatures, but at least there was almost a whole continent open for exploration by hitchhiking. I crisscrossed that continent over the next few years, read more books by Jack and his friends and reread "The Dharma Bums" many times.
There was absolutely no doubt in my mind: I wanted to become a Dharma Bum myself. So, with only fifty bucks in my pocket, I ventured into Morocco and ended up without a penny in Marrakech. Fortunately I still had the ticket for the ferry back to Algeciras in Spain. That trip only wetted my appetite for the real thing.
Two days after I graduated from high school, I started on the trip of all trips. Overland to Asia.
My head full of lines from "The Dharma Bums", I met people who were looking for the same dream, people who had lived the dream and embodied it. Many strange and wonderful things happened, some rather more dangerous than I was aware of at the time and after three months I had decided that I would study Chinese just like Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder) had done in the book. I still very much wanted to be a Dharma Bum.
So I enrolled to study Chinese, went to China and after two years I moved to Taiwan where I still live now. I lived in an old Japanese wooden house with a wild garden full of bananas, bamboo and flying squirrels. I studied Kung Fu with an old Chinese master and after a while I spoke mostly Chinese. These days I even swear and dream in Chinese, but then again, by now I've been here for almost 22 years.
Somewhere along this time I realized that I in fact had become a Dharma Bum myself, not quite the same kind like the people in the book, but a Dharma Bum nonetheless.
So I bought a sailing boat, called it DHARMA BUM and went on a trip of a different kind. After that came DHARMA BUM II and right now I am looking for DHARMA BUM III.
And still, after all these years, I am looking. Looking for the dharma, the truth. Except that it is my very own personal truth which is not transferable to other people or even other circumstances.
Thank you for writing that book, Jack! And Happy Birthday!
© 2004 Holg / KrautHolg / Holger Jacobsen
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
Exactly 82 years ago today Jean-Louis Kerouac alias Jack Kerouac was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Boy, did that guy ever have an influence on my life!
While he is most famous for "On The Road" and he himself apparently considered the books about his childhood and early life as the most important, I got inspired by his most commercial piece of work -- The Dharma Bums.
I was still a teenager living in my hometown of Flensburg when I first read a German translation. I was instantly on fire. Finally here was a guy who did exactly what I wanted to do! And not only that, he also opened a few doors and windows into realms I had not even considered. Zen? I didn't have the foggiest notion, but I was determined to investigate it.
California was a bit far away, living in a wooden shack would have been suicidal in our temperatures, but at least there was almost a whole continent open for exploration by hitchhiking. I crisscrossed that continent over the next few years, read more books by Jack and his friends and reread "The Dharma Bums" many times.
There was absolutely no doubt in my mind: I wanted to become a Dharma Bum myself. So, with only fifty bucks in my pocket, I ventured into Morocco and ended up without a penny in Marrakech. Fortunately I still had the ticket for the ferry back to Algeciras in Spain. That trip only wetted my appetite for the real thing.
Two days after I graduated from high school, I started on the trip of all trips. Overland to Asia.
My head full of lines from "The Dharma Bums", I met people who were looking for the same dream, people who had lived the dream and embodied it. Many strange and wonderful things happened, some rather more dangerous than I was aware of at the time and after three months I had decided that I would study Chinese just like Japhy Ryder (Gary Snyder) had done in the book. I still very much wanted to be a Dharma Bum.
So I enrolled to study Chinese, went to China and after two years I moved to Taiwan where I still live now. I lived in an old Japanese wooden house with a wild garden full of bananas, bamboo and flying squirrels. I studied Kung Fu with an old Chinese master and after a while I spoke mostly Chinese. These days I even swear and dream in Chinese, but then again, by now I've been here for almost 22 years.
Somewhere along this time I realized that I in fact had become a Dharma Bum myself, not quite the same kind like the people in the book, but a Dharma Bum nonetheless.
So I bought a sailing boat, called it DHARMA BUM and went on a trip of a different kind. After that came DHARMA BUM II and right now I am looking for DHARMA BUM III.
And still, after all these years, I am looking. Looking for the dharma, the truth. Except that it is my very own personal truth which is not transferable to other people or even other circumstances.
Thank you for writing that book, Jack! And Happy Birthday!
© 2004 Holg / KrautHolg / Holger Jacobsen
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
Friday, March 12, 2004
Trying to get a new boat seems to be a lot more difficult than I thought....
Here are some of the cruising-catamarans I am considering at the moment:
Used boats for sale now:
1994 Jeanneau Lagoon 37 $119,000 http://tinyurl.com/2ejp6
1993 Jeanneau Lagoon 37 $124,900 http://tinyurl.com/yrces
1987 Catana 40 (v. old) $126,134 http://tinyurl.com/2hogn
1993 Antigua 37 Maestro $131.277 http://tinyurl.com/33pkv
1999 Admiral 38 $139,000 http://tinyurl.com/3bhd6
Here are some of the cruising-catamarans I am considering at the moment:
Used boats for sale now:
1994 Jeanneau Lagoon 37 $119,000 http://tinyurl.com/2ejp6
1993 Jeanneau Lagoon 37 $124,900 http://tinyurl.com/yrces
1987 Catana 40 (v. old) $126,134 http://tinyurl.com/2hogn
1993 Antigua 37 Maestro $131.277 http://tinyurl.com/33pkv
1999 Admiral 38 $139,000 http://tinyurl.com/3bhd6
Friday, February 13, 2004
Fun Links
Give Holg a score
Give Liping a score
Wanna meet her or her? ;-)
Or maybe join this community? If so, I will need your eMail address to invite you.
Give Holg a score
Give Liping a score
Wanna meet her or her? ;-)
Or maybe join this community? If so, I will need your eMail address to invite you.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
The Captain's Gone
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just found out that my old friend Robert Adair has died from complications of cancer. He lived aboard his trimaran EPICURUS in Bonbonon, Philippines.
*****
Sometime during the "Wirtschaftswunder" Robert Adair left Germany and started a boatbuilding yard in Canada. He fell in love with multihulls early on but developed a serious ulcer and on his doctor's advice took a break from his business. Said break consisted in Robert building the 36' trimaran TANYA in only 10 months. He then sailed it to the Caribbean and when his money ran out, Robert started doing charter business. Apparently this new life-style suited him, for he never went back to run a business. Instead he crossed the Atlantic numerous times, as he chartered out his TANYA in both the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. He didn't have any electronics, in fact, he had no electricity on board. No engine, either.
When modern times caught up with the Caribbean and tourists started arriving in ever-increasing numbers, Robert and his American wife Jerry went through the Panama Canal into the Pacific to explore new sailing grounds. Enroute they acquired a small seven-horsepower diesel engine - but it took many years until it was finally installed. They were also given an old echo-sounder, which got installed after Robert scraped across a coral reef somewhere.
The next few years were spent sailing the South Seas and finally TANYA arrived in the Kingdom of Tonga, where Robert started designing and building racing canoes for the king. Robert used modern CAD techniques and built the canoes (which hold 42 rowers) with very thin marine plywood and epoxy resin.
In 1987 I showed up in Tonga. I was going to buy a small sloop, but the seller reneged on the deal. Fortunately I ran into Robert, who was going up to Vava'u to see the race and join the birthday celebrations for the old king. At that time he had spent almost 20 years living on boats already. When I stepped aboard TANYA, it was actually the very first time I set foot upon a proper yacht as opposed to a sailing dinghy. I had read everything about sailing I could lay my hands on, had bought a sextant and was eager to try things out for real.
We hadn't even left the harbor when I got violently seasick. It may have had something to do with the exorbitant amounts of beer I had drunk at the farewell party the night before. And as soon as we were out of the harbor, Robert went below to sleep and left me to figure out how to sail a 36-foot trimaran.
When later I peeked into his cabin, I noticed that it was absolutely packed with books on philosophy. That's also when I found out that he was in fact German, for until that moment we had only spoken English.
We had a pleasant sail up to the northern island group of Vava'u and became good friends in the process. I considered having a boat built by him. His quotation was more than reasonable, it would be a state-of-the-art catamaran and it would be where I wanted to sail it, namely the South Pacific. But in the end I opted for a second-hand boat.
It turned out that the king didn't have any money to pay Robert for his efforts, so Robert got an island instead. Pangaimotu is right in front of the capital Nuku'alofa and the Adairs built two houses and a boatyard over there. Very cool, very relaxed and very romantic living. A 15-minute ride with Robert's little motorboat and you were in the middle of town.
*****
Robert and I stayed in touch and when I was in the Amazon delta with my catamaran DHARMA BUM, I got a postcard from him requesting a parrot, "to complement my image of Long John Silver." Turned out he had lost a leg, grown a beard and a long gray ponytail. It didn't stop him from doing whatever he had in mind, though.
*****
Our trimaran DHARMA BUM II got hit by lightning while we were sailing from Tahiti to Tonga in 1995. We couldn't hear Robert because of the damage to our antenna - it had been turned to melted chunks of orange metal which rained from above - but apparently he could hear us. Thus it happened that when we limped without an engine past the reefs into Nuku'alofa, that Robert was there in a little dinghy to welcome us. I was in a really foul mood as I hadn't slept for days because of the reefs and suffered from a pounding headache. The joys of sailing...
Robert stepped aboard and asked what we were moaning about. He praised the boat and with him there, the whole atmosphere quieted down. His Captain Ahab style wooden leg didn't seem to be a problem at all. Later I found out that the modern ones just couldn't handle all the sand at the beach.
Robert proudly showed off EPICURUS, which he had designed and built all by himself. I actually sailed on the machine, and though there was jut the tiniest breeze, she promptly lifted one of her three hulls out of the water and took off as if a whole swarm of hornets were after her. I was more than impressed. Speechless. While Robert talked of his impending voyage to New Caledonia, Micronesia and Asia aboard that boat, I had my private doubts.
There wasn't only the wooden leg, you see. EPICURUS was equipped with a wing-mast, which operates on the same principle as the wing on an airplane. That's also one reason why she sailed so damn fast -- even without any sails at all on her. And unlike sails, you can't easily take the mast down when you run into really bad weather.
We left Robert and Jerry to sell our boat for us and I was quite surprised when I found out that they had left Tonga. I got one eMail from New Caledonia - so they had made it - and that was that.
*****
Until I surfed the net and saw his boat for sale. Robert only got to be around 55 years old. But I think one can say that he didn't waste much of his time on this planet.
I am still trying to contact his wife, Jerry.
Holg / KrautHolg / Holger Jacobsen http://tinyurl.com/23fww
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just found out that my old friend Robert Adair has died from complications of cancer. He lived aboard his trimaran EPICURUS in Bonbonon, Philippines.
*****
Sometime during the "Wirtschaftswunder" Robert Adair left Germany and started a boatbuilding yard in Canada. He fell in love with multihulls early on but developed a serious ulcer and on his doctor's advice took a break from his business. Said break consisted in Robert building the 36' trimaran TANYA in only 10 months. He then sailed it to the Caribbean and when his money ran out, Robert started doing charter business. Apparently this new life-style suited him, for he never went back to run a business. Instead he crossed the Atlantic numerous times, as he chartered out his TANYA in both the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. He didn't have any electronics, in fact, he had no electricity on board. No engine, either.
When modern times caught up with the Caribbean and tourists started arriving in ever-increasing numbers, Robert and his American wife Jerry went through the Panama Canal into the Pacific to explore new sailing grounds. Enroute they acquired a small seven-horsepower diesel engine - but it took many years until it was finally installed. They were also given an old echo-sounder, which got installed after Robert scraped across a coral reef somewhere.
The next few years were spent sailing the South Seas and finally TANYA arrived in the Kingdom of Tonga, where Robert started designing and building racing canoes for the king. Robert used modern CAD techniques and built the canoes (which hold 42 rowers) with very thin marine plywood and epoxy resin.
In 1987 I showed up in Tonga. I was going to buy a small sloop, but the seller reneged on the deal. Fortunately I ran into Robert, who was going up to Vava'u to see the race and join the birthday celebrations for the old king. At that time he had spent almost 20 years living on boats already. When I stepped aboard TANYA, it was actually the very first time I set foot upon a proper yacht as opposed to a sailing dinghy. I had read everything about sailing I could lay my hands on, had bought a sextant and was eager to try things out for real.
We hadn't even left the harbor when I got violently seasick. It may have had something to do with the exorbitant amounts of beer I had drunk at the farewell party the night before. And as soon as we were out of the harbor, Robert went below to sleep and left me to figure out how to sail a 36-foot trimaran.
When later I peeked into his cabin, I noticed that it was absolutely packed with books on philosophy. That's also when I found out that he was in fact German, for until that moment we had only spoken English.
We had a pleasant sail up to the northern island group of Vava'u and became good friends in the process. I considered having a boat built by him. His quotation was more than reasonable, it would be a state-of-the-art catamaran and it would be where I wanted to sail it, namely the South Pacific. But in the end I opted for a second-hand boat.
It turned out that the king didn't have any money to pay Robert for his efforts, so Robert got an island instead. Pangaimotu is right in front of the capital Nuku'alofa and the Adairs built two houses and a boatyard over there. Very cool, very relaxed and very romantic living. A 15-minute ride with Robert's little motorboat and you were in the middle of town.
*****
Robert and I stayed in touch and when I was in the Amazon delta with my catamaran DHARMA BUM, I got a postcard from him requesting a parrot, "to complement my image of Long John Silver." Turned out he had lost a leg, grown a beard and a long gray ponytail. It didn't stop him from doing whatever he had in mind, though.
*****
Our trimaran DHARMA BUM II got hit by lightning while we were sailing from Tahiti to Tonga in 1995. We couldn't hear Robert because of the damage to our antenna - it had been turned to melted chunks of orange metal which rained from above - but apparently he could hear us. Thus it happened that when we limped without an engine past the reefs into Nuku'alofa, that Robert was there in a little dinghy to welcome us. I was in a really foul mood as I hadn't slept for days because of the reefs and suffered from a pounding headache. The joys of sailing...
Robert stepped aboard and asked what we were moaning about. He praised the boat and with him there, the whole atmosphere quieted down. His Captain Ahab style wooden leg didn't seem to be a problem at all. Later I found out that the modern ones just couldn't handle all the sand at the beach.
Robert proudly showed off EPICURUS, which he had designed and built all by himself. I actually sailed on the machine, and though there was jut the tiniest breeze, she promptly lifted one of her three hulls out of the water and took off as if a whole swarm of hornets were after her. I was more than impressed. Speechless. While Robert talked of his impending voyage to New Caledonia, Micronesia and Asia aboard that boat, I had my private doubts.
There wasn't only the wooden leg, you see. EPICURUS was equipped with a wing-mast, which operates on the same principle as the wing on an airplane. That's also one reason why she sailed so damn fast -- even without any sails at all on her. And unlike sails, you can't easily take the mast down when you run into really bad weather.
We left Robert and Jerry to sell our boat for us and I was quite surprised when I found out that they had left Tonga. I got one eMail from New Caledonia - so they had made it - and that was that.
*****
Until I surfed the net and saw his boat for sale. Robert only got to be around 55 years old. But I think one can say that he didn't waste much of his time on this planet.
I am still trying to contact his wife, Jerry.
Holg / KrautHolg / Holger Jacobsen http://tinyurl.com/23fww
Friday, February 06, 2004
ROAD RAGE
This ain't exactly about peace. It ain't about no boat drinks either.
*****
When the Suzuki Wagon R Solio tried to slide into the parking place I was about to enter, I was only slightly annoyed. After all these things happen all the time and every day. Being a stubborn SOB, I didn't intend to let him get away with it either. There was a little baby in the backseat and the driver looked like a normal harried family father on some errand or other.
He didn't wanna give up either, so things started to get a bit more heated, but when he started shouting abuse, I simply rolled up the windows and ignored him. The ridiculous part was that now none of us could enter the parking space. By now I was more than a bit annoyed, as it is VERY expensive to get caught standing next to a red line as I was doing. He, of course, was standing double-parked and blocked one lane of the heavy traffic.
When Liping came back, I pointed the @#%$ out to her and said joker suddenly went ballistic. He jumped out of his car, his face contorted with rage, at which point I locked my car. He kicked it. I drove away, but didn't get far as a red traffic light blocked my progress.
He jumped back into his car, followed, overtook me with screeching tires and tried to block my way. I drove around him and heard a thud. I decided to get out of there, stepped on the gas and turned right. Unfortunately the road was full of cars, too. He came after me again, overtook, and this time slid to a stop sideways so that he now blocked two lanes of traffic right in front of me.
He also jumped out of the car again, but this time the maniac had a baseball bat which he was swinging like a demented gorilla. By now I was getting worried and while I managed to swerve around him, I asked Liping to call the cops. Which is what she did. The fuckers were totally useless. Told us to phone a different department. Gangster-guy was by now behind us and throwing rocks at our car. More thuds, some of them rather frightening. The lunatic was completely out of control and trying to ram our car.
Phoned the police once more and those goons asked us to stop our car and wait for them. Also, we were supposed to take notes. Right! Guy coming at me trying to bash my brains in and I am gonna wait patiently for him to do his bit.
In a bit of rather rude driving I cut in front of a taxi which had the effect that his rocks now had to fly across that car -- and taxi drivers in Taiwan don't take kindly to that kind of attention. Still Mr. Solio didn't want to give up. I only saw one chance and that was to take yet another turn and then drive on the wrong side of the road as that road was just as full of cars as the other two. That finally did it and the police rapidly lost interest.
Now I've got a damaged car and when I went to the garage they told me that it is pretty much unfixable. Not worth fixing, they mean. And I don't even know whether the @#%$ got done by the taxi-driver or not.
Very annoying that.
Discussion
This ain't exactly about peace. It ain't about no boat drinks either.
*****
When the Suzuki Wagon R Solio tried to slide into the parking place I was about to enter, I was only slightly annoyed. After all these things happen all the time and every day. Being a stubborn SOB, I didn't intend to let him get away with it either. There was a little baby in the backseat and the driver looked like a normal harried family father on some errand or other.
He didn't wanna give up either, so things started to get a bit more heated, but when he started shouting abuse, I simply rolled up the windows and ignored him. The ridiculous part was that now none of us could enter the parking space. By now I was more than a bit annoyed, as it is VERY expensive to get caught standing next to a red line as I was doing. He, of course, was standing double-parked and blocked one lane of the heavy traffic.
When Liping came back, I pointed the @#%$ out to her and said joker suddenly went ballistic. He jumped out of his car, his face contorted with rage, at which point I locked my car. He kicked it. I drove away, but didn't get far as a red traffic light blocked my progress.
He jumped back into his car, followed, overtook me with screeching tires and tried to block my way. I drove around him and heard a thud. I decided to get out of there, stepped on the gas and turned right. Unfortunately the road was full of cars, too. He came after me again, overtook, and this time slid to a stop sideways so that he now blocked two lanes of traffic right in front of me.
He also jumped out of the car again, but this time the maniac had a baseball bat which he was swinging like a demented gorilla. By now I was getting worried and while I managed to swerve around him, I asked Liping to call the cops. Which is what she did. The fuckers were totally useless. Told us to phone a different department. Gangster-guy was by now behind us and throwing rocks at our car. More thuds, some of them rather frightening. The lunatic was completely out of control and trying to ram our car.
Phoned the police once more and those goons asked us to stop our car and wait for them. Also, we were supposed to take notes. Right! Guy coming at me trying to bash my brains in and I am gonna wait patiently for him to do his bit.
In a bit of rather rude driving I cut in front of a taxi which had the effect that his rocks now had to fly across that car -- and taxi drivers in Taiwan don't take kindly to that kind of attention. Still Mr. Solio didn't want to give up. I only saw one chance and that was to take yet another turn and then drive on the wrong side of the road as that road was just as full of cars as the other two. That finally did it and the police rapidly lost interest.
Now I've got a damaged car and when I went to the garage they told me that it is pretty much unfixable. Not worth fixing, they mean. And I don't even know whether the @#%$ got done by the taxi-driver or not.
Very annoying that.
Discussion
Friday, January 23, 2004
Grad School
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was the draft. And the only place where you couldn't get drafted was West-Berlin. Apparently seeing a psychiatrist for three years as a failed suicide hadn't been enough not to get drafted.
Berlin had the reputation of being the most left-wing (Rudi Dutschke had been there, hadn't he? Pity he got shot...), crazy and bad-assed university in all of Krautland. They had excellent China Studies/Sinology and Philosophy departments and it was far enough away from home to satisfy me. I had to check out a big city and what better city than Berlin to start with? (People over there think that only NYC could possibly be more interesting than Berlin.)
So I applied to grad school, got accepted, rolled four joints and got into a Mercedes with my old friend Burkhard and the incredibly sexy Tina. Since Burkhard had to drive, he couldn't partake in the perishables and since the border to the GDR was coming up rapidly, Tina and I had to hurry. We were flying in no time. We took this little country road - The Corridor - surrounded by the communist countryside and communist coal-smoke and every couple of minutes we had to cross some damn railway tracks which hit us like lightning in the head.
It took forever and when we finally rolled into Berlin, it was already evening. Everywhere I looked I saw concrete, and huge gray walls. My heart tried to emulate a U-Boat under attack while I asked myself what the fuck I had gotten myself into. So many people and so much construction? Being from a tiny village in the boondocks I felt overwhelmed.
If I had known then that it would take me almost a year to find a place to live, I would have probably left right away. I slept in lofts and on couches for ages, until my then girlfriend Sabine (also doing China Studies) and I found a tiny little hole in some backyard in a rather wild district of Berlin. We had to not only renovate, but rather re-build the place as it had been intentionally destroyed by the former tenants. Sabine, a really tough punk-girl (me, a hippie with long blond hair) was in tears when after ten days no noticeable progress had been made.
But we fixed it and turned it into a really cool place, right next to a canal with trees everywhere. Lots of Turkish neighbors and the market was 100% Turkish, where nobody spoke a word of German. It was a pleasant year. Sabine still lives in the same building and it doesn't sound as if she is planning to leave either.
As for the university.... The philosophy department was a total write-off, but the China Studies one was right on target. Located in the villa which originally belonged to a heavyweight boxing champion of the world in the thirties, Max Schmeling, it is the German equivalent of the FALCON program at Cornell, which again is sponsored by the DoD.
I did half a year of Sanskrit/Hindi as well, but those guys lived in the glory of the past with dust settling on the professors' spectacles, so I concentrated only on China after that.
And here I am now. Burkhard (M.A. Urban Planning) is a taxi-driver in Berlin, Tina went back to Flensburg and is a singer in a Latino band. Sabine is a head-nurse in some hospital in Berlin. Burkhard, Sabine and I all started our jobs to make some pocket money while we were still students.
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was the draft. And the only place where you couldn't get drafted was West-Berlin. Apparently seeing a psychiatrist for three years as a failed suicide hadn't been enough not to get drafted.
Berlin had the reputation of being the most left-wing (Rudi Dutschke had been there, hadn't he? Pity he got shot...), crazy and bad-assed university in all of Krautland. They had excellent China Studies/Sinology and Philosophy departments and it was far enough away from home to satisfy me. I had to check out a big city and what better city than Berlin to start with? (People over there think that only NYC could possibly be more interesting than Berlin.)
So I applied to grad school, got accepted, rolled four joints and got into a Mercedes with my old friend Burkhard and the incredibly sexy Tina. Since Burkhard had to drive, he couldn't partake in the perishables and since the border to the GDR was coming up rapidly, Tina and I had to hurry. We were flying in no time. We took this little country road - The Corridor - surrounded by the communist countryside and communist coal-smoke and every couple of minutes we had to cross some damn railway tracks which hit us like lightning in the head.
It took forever and when we finally rolled into Berlin, it was already evening. Everywhere I looked I saw concrete, and huge gray walls. My heart tried to emulate a U-Boat under attack while I asked myself what the fuck I had gotten myself into. So many people and so much construction? Being from a tiny village in the boondocks I felt overwhelmed.
If I had known then that it would take me almost a year to find a place to live, I would have probably left right away. I slept in lofts and on couches for ages, until my then girlfriend Sabine (also doing China Studies) and I found a tiny little hole in some backyard in a rather wild district of Berlin. We had to not only renovate, but rather re-build the place as it had been intentionally destroyed by the former tenants. Sabine, a really tough punk-girl (me, a hippie with long blond hair) was in tears when after ten days no noticeable progress had been made.
But we fixed it and turned it into a really cool place, right next to a canal with trees everywhere. Lots of Turkish neighbors and the market was 100% Turkish, where nobody spoke a word of German. It was a pleasant year. Sabine still lives in the same building and it doesn't sound as if she is planning to leave either.
As for the university.... The philosophy department was a total write-off, but the China Studies one was right on target. Located in the villa which originally belonged to a heavyweight boxing champion of the world in the thirties, Max Schmeling, it is the German equivalent of the FALCON program at Cornell, which again is sponsored by the DoD.
I did half a year of Sanskrit/Hindi as well, but those guys lived in the glory of the past with dust settling on the professors' spectacles, so I concentrated only on China after that.
And here I am now. Burkhard (M.A. Urban Planning) is a taxi-driver in Berlin, Tina went back to Flensburg and is a singer in a Latino band. Sabine is a head-nurse in some hospital in Berlin. Burkhard, Sabine and I all started our jobs to make some pocket money while we were still students.
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
Thursday, January 22, 2004
World Travel & Understanding
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As world travel should provide an understanding of other cultures....
Unfortunately that doesn't always work out. I've known that for a long time, but it was made very clear to me by a post on the Mechanical Investing board at TMF quite a while ago. A guy who grew up in the Middle East mentioned that understanding happens only very rarely. What happens much more often, is that either prejudices get reinforced or illusions get shattered and sentiment makes an about-turn.
My own cousin is a very good example of the latter and I have known hundreds of people who came out here because they were fascinated with ancient Chinese art and culture in general. They were thinking in terms of Taoism or (much more rarely) Confucianism, of Kung Fu or T'ai Chi Ch'uan and a whole host of other typically Chinese endeavors. They conveniently "forgot" the other aspects of Chinese culture and were not at all pleased with the general selfishness that usually comes with it.
"If you don't like the way they drive, get off the sidewalks!" was a joke for some, but an offense for others. Getting an elbow rammed into the solar plexus because an old lady wanted to be first on the bus was generally not appreciated. The crowds, the noise, the chaos, the dirt, the unbelievable ugliness of the cities and the constant talk of money, money, money had the effect to turn the erstwhile Chinese-lovers into Chinese-haters with an attitude.
And it ain't only China or Asia where this happens. The same is true in the Middle East, when tribal cultures come into contact with modern civilization, and everywhere else on the planet.
What I am trying to say is that understanding doesn't necessarily come about by world travel, especially not if the contact is brief. And it sure as hell doesn't come about by reading books alone. It needs time, a whole lot of time, it needs actual contact "on the ground" and more than anything else it needs constant effort to try and understand the other side.
This may seem a bit harsh, but I would say in 99% of the cases the understanding is merely superficial. I am talking of long-timers here. (Just asked Liping and she thinks so too.) This comes to light when trying to predict how a person of a particular culture might react to a certain dilemma, say the divorce of a daughter or the inheritance of a distant relative and things like that.
These things have always fascinated me, so much so that I started doing my original master's thesis on something called "cultural dimensions". I worked on it for a couple of years, but in the end decided that marketing would be more useful in a career as I still thought I wanted to be a manager then.
*****
When I first started China Studies/Sinology I vowed to be different. I would have plenty of Chinese friends and not only hang out with other foreigners. I would learn the language, learn how to read and write and I would integrate. Above all other things, I would try to understand.
Well, I have failed. I do have Chinese friends, quite a few and more than a handful of them have been my friends for two decades. I have lived almost all of my adult life over here and if I stay but a few more years and my hair turns even grayer, some people might call me an old China hand. And still I have not learned to enjoy Mah Jong, or Shaohsing Wine, I still get pissed off by the thoughtlessness and selfishness and I more then ever question the way this society is going.
I have not learned to share their values, I do not think that working 365 days a year is the way to go and I still don't get it why people place so much value on that damn face-thing of theirs. And while I am saying all this, Liping and other Chinese people call me the most Chinese of the foreigners they know. And I think they are right on target, too.
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As world travel should provide an understanding of other cultures....
Unfortunately that doesn't always work out. I've known that for a long time, but it was made very clear to me by a post on the Mechanical Investing board at TMF quite a while ago. A guy who grew up in the Middle East mentioned that understanding happens only very rarely. What happens much more often, is that either prejudices get reinforced or illusions get shattered and sentiment makes an about-turn.
My own cousin is a very good example of the latter and I have known hundreds of people who came out here because they were fascinated with ancient Chinese art and culture in general. They were thinking in terms of Taoism or (much more rarely) Confucianism, of Kung Fu or T'ai Chi Ch'uan and a whole host of other typically Chinese endeavors. They conveniently "forgot" the other aspects of Chinese culture and were not at all pleased with the general selfishness that usually comes with it.
"If you don't like the way they drive, get off the sidewalks!" was a joke for some, but an offense for others. Getting an elbow rammed into the solar plexus because an old lady wanted to be first on the bus was generally not appreciated. The crowds, the noise, the chaos, the dirt, the unbelievable ugliness of the cities and the constant talk of money, money, money had the effect to turn the erstwhile Chinese-lovers into Chinese-haters with an attitude.
And it ain't only China or Asia where this happens. The same is true in the Middle East, when tribal cultures come into contact with modern civilization, and everywhere else on the planet.
What I am trying to say is that understanding doesn't necessarily come about by world travel, especially not if the contact is brief. And it sure as hell doesn't come about by reading books alone. It needs time, a whole lot of time, it needs actual contact "on the ground" and more than anything else it needs constant effort to try and understand the other side.
This may seem a bit harsh, but I would say in 99% of the cases the understanding is merely superficial. I am talking of long-timers here. (Just asked Liping and she thinks so too.) This comes to light when trying to predict how a person of a particular culture might react to a certain dilemma, say the divorce of a daughter or the inheritance of a distant relative and things like that.
These things have always fascinated me, so much so that I started doing my original master's thesis on something called "cultural dimensions". I worked on it for a couple of years, but in the end decided that marketing would be more useful in a career as I still thought I wanted to be a manager then.
*****
When I first started China Studies/Sinology I vowed to be different. I would have plenty of Chinese friends and not only hang out with other foreigners. I would learn the language, learn how to read and write and I would integrate. Above all other things, I would try to understand.
Well, I have failed. I do have Chinese friends, quite a few and more than a handful of them have been my friends for two decades. I have lived almost all of my adult life over here and if I stay but a few more years and my hair turns even grayer, some people might call me an old China hand. And still I have not learned to enjoy Mah Jong, or Shaohsing Wine, I still get pissed off by the thoughtlessness and selfishness and I more then ever question the way this society is going.
I have not learned to share their values, I do not think that working 365 days a year is the way to go and I still don't get it why people place so much value on that damn face-thing of theirs. And while I am saying all this, Liping and other Chinese people call me the most Chinese of the foreigners they know. And I think they are right on target, too.
Peace & Boat Drinks Discussion Board
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Time To Quit?
A successful friend of mine recently advised another friend to quit his job and live more according to what he would really like to do instead of slaving away for money. Which reminded me of the situation I was in many years ago in Mexico. I had quit and gone to live the way I envisioned, only to be taught .....
Here I was in Cabo San Lucas surrounded by senoritas and margaritas with a big smile on my face. It was exactly the kind of country and the kind of weather that I had been looking forward to and as I walked around, I considered myself lucky for actually having quit and gone to live my dreams.
That state of affairs lasted for several days and it didn't bother me one bit that I couldn't afford all the souvenirs which were for sale all over the place or the Mexican clothes or the fancy dinners or even the colorful drinks. It was great to go to the beach at "Happy Hour", order a couple of truly giant-sized margaritas for altogether 99 cents to share with Liping. We looked out at our boat and the sea beyond and felt like royalty, especially when tourists swam out to the boat expressing their envy for our new lifestyle.
Little did those tourists know that I spent every day going from ferreteria to ferreteria to get the best deal on some kind of hardware essential for the boat. Or that Liping spend day after day at various supermarkets comparing prices for food and other supplies. They did not know that we had to lug all that stuff for many kilometers through semi-desert, because we couldn't really spare the cash for a cab. I really felt that I deserved one of those Dos Equis beers after completing such a trip.
Of course, if we had had the cash, we could have stayed in the marina, which is right downtown and spare us all the trouble. But with about 500 bucks a month, marinas tend to make serious inroads into the cruising budget. Still, before leaving Cabo for the long haul to the South Seas we would have to stock up on drinking water as well as diesel-fuel for the engine. And that's where thing really started to get unpleasant. Liping carried 20 liters while I carried 40 liters and it took hours to get them to the beach. Then by dinghy on to the boat. It was so miserable that we didn't feel like speaking to each other any more -- rather more like sitting down and having a good cry. All because we didn't have enough cash.
Well, at least ours was an adventure and adventures are supposed to make you feel miserable at times. Friends of mine were not so lucky. He had quit his well-paid job and suddenly couldn't find another one. Neither could she. Ever been in a situation where you simply don't have the cash to pay the rent? Or pay for heating while the winter has just begun in earnest? Not fun, I can assure you. One of my friends took to burning old fences in his woodstove to keep warm. Fortunately he didn't have to pay rent, as he was squatting in an old abandoned building. The stories are countless.
But you don't even have to be in truly dire straits in order to experience anxiety about your finances. The prospect alone is quite sufficient. You still have money to pay the rent, and while you would like a couple more degrees in your living room, at least you aren't freezing to death yet. And eating the same monotonous cheapo food of spaghetti with ketchup and corned beef is probably not one of the highlights of your life, but hey, at least you aren't starving. Yet.
But when you lie awake at night and you see no solution except maybe go and get a job way below what you were expecting originally, well, it kind of ruins your sleep. Never mind the nightmares when you find yourself in a situation where even those jobs don't materialize.
You think I am making this up? Fake, all fake? One of my old friends is in a situation like that right now and he is even considering toning down his resume because whenever he goes looking for a job, people tell him that he is overqualified. He is not exactly having a good time, either.
*****
But you have enough stashed away, you own your house or apartment and you have paid off the mortgage. Why not quit? Why not indeed. Except that some people don't feel satisfied relaxing all the time. Some people don't relax well, as I recently read it expressed by a friend. My parents definitely fall into that category. They remind me of the guy who gets told by his doctor that he has to take life a little easier or else. "But what can I do?" he asks desperately. "I don't know!" comes the answer. "Work in the garden or something." So the guy works in the garden, reads up on gardening and soon he has the most beautiful of all gardens and is justifiably proud of it.
He doesn't stop there, though. He gives friends advice, passes packets of seeds around and before he knows it, his gardening exercise has blossomed into a little business, then a respectable business until he finds himself just as stressed out as before. I sure hope I will never experience that one for myself.
*****
But then so what? If he likes it that way, fine. Better than walking off into dreamland with both eyes wide shut. Actually, I can only think of one situation worse than that. And that is never having the guts to aim for dreamland. Existing all your life instead of trying to live it. Finding yourself on your deathbed with the realization that you have wasted it all. Now that is something to weep for. That is truly sad.
How do you know that you are not procrastinating? How do you know when you are ready? For myself, a simple rule of thumb is that you will continue to need just as much money when you aren't working any more as you need now. If it's a couple or three thousand bucks a month right now, then it will probably stay in that vicinity after you've quit your job as well. And if it's double that, it will probably stay that way too.
*****
The really weird thing about my own plans is that they run counter to my own personality. Unlike my parents, I feel very happy just relaxing. Sitting around and daydreaming, reading a good book, doing a little bit of writing when I feel like it. Taking walks and chatting with friends. And yet I intend to go sailing one more. Which entails more work than your usual day job and costs a lot of money to boot. I know now that I will at times curse myself for the course I have set and wish for "the good old days" (now) where I could look forward to a peaceful evening at home. I will long for that balcony in front of the jungle mountains and I will call myself a moron, an idiot and a lot of worse things when I have to change the engine oil in bad weather or when I have to fix a toilet in heavy seas. But not doing it? Out of the question!
http://tinyurl.com/2sqfy
Quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze
than it should be stifled by dry rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack London (1876 - 1916)
A successful friend of mine recently advised another friend to quit his job and live more according to what he would really like to do instead of slaving away for money. Which reminded me of the situation I was in many years ago in Mexico. I had quit and gone to live the way I envisioned, only to be taught .....
Here I was in Cabo San Lucas surrounded by senoritas and margaritas with a big smile on my face. It was exactly the kind of country and the kind of weather that I had been looking forward to and as I walked around, I considered myself lucky for actually having quit and gone to live my dreams.
That state of affairs lasted for several days and it didn't bother me one bit that I couldn't afford all the souvenirs which were for sale all over the place or the Mexican clothes or the fancy dinners or even the colorful drinks. It was great to go to the beach at "Happy Hour", order a couple of truly giant-sized margaritas for altogether 99 cents to share with Liping. We looked out at our boat and the sea beyond and felt like royalty, especially when tourists swam out to the boat expressing their envy for our new lifestyle.
Little did those tourists know that I spent every day going from ferreteria to ferreteria to get the best deal on some kind of hardware essential for the boat. Or that Liping spend day after day at various supermarkets comparing prices for food and other supplies. They did not know that we had to lug all that stuff for many kilometers through semi-desert, because we couldn't really spare the cash for a cab. I really felt that I deserved one of those Dos Equis beers after completing such a trip.
Of course, if we had had the cash, we could have stayed in the marina, which is right downtown and spare us all the trouble. But with about 500 bucks a month, marinas tend to make serious inroads into the cruising budget. Still, before leaving Cabo for the long haul to the South Seas we would have to stock up on drinking water as well as diesel-fuel for the engine. And that's where thing really started to get unpleasant. Liping carried 20 liters while I carried 40 liters and it took hours to get them to the beach. Then by dinghy on to the boat. It was so miserable that we didn't feel like speaking to each other any more -- rather more like sitting down and having a good cry. All because we didn't have enough cash.
Well, at least ours was an adventure and adventures are supposed to make you feel miserable at times. Friends of mine were not so lucky. He had quit his well-paid job and suddenly couldn't find another one. Neither could she. Ever been in a situation where you simply don't have the cash to pay the rent? Or pay for heating while the winter has just begun in earnest? Not fun, I can assure you. One of my friends took to burning old fences in his woodstove to keep warm. Fortunately he didn't have to pay rent, as he was squatting in an old abandoned building. The stories are countless.
But you don't even have to be in truly dire straits in order to experience anxiety about your finances. The prospect alone is quite sufficient. You still have money to pay the rent, and while you would like a couple more degrees in your living room, at least you aren't freezing to death yet. And eating the same monotonous cheapo food of spaghetti with ketchup and corned beef is probably not one of the highlights of your life, but hey, at least you aren't starving. Yet.
But when you lie awake at night and you see no solution except maybe go and get a job way below what you were expecting originally, well, it kind of ruins your sleep. Never mind the nightmares when you find yourself in a situation where even those jobs don't materialize.
You think I am making this up? Fake, all fake? One of my old friends is in a situation like that right now and he is even considering toning down his resume because whenever he goes looking for a job, people tell him that he is overqualified. He is not exactly having a good time, either.
*****
But you have enough stashed away, you own your house or apartment and you have paid off the mortgage. Why not quit? Why not indeed. Except that some people don't feel satisfied relaxing all the time. Some people don't relax well, as I recently read it expressed by a friend. My parents definitely fall into that category. They remind me of the guy who gets told by his doctor that he has to take life a little easier or else. "But what can I do?" he asks desperately. "I don't know!" comes the answer. "Work in the garden or something." So the guy works in the garden, reads up on gardening and soon he has the most beautiful of all gardens and is justifiably proud of it.
He doesn't stop there, though. He gives friends advice, passes packets of seeds around and before he knows it, his gardening exercise has blossomed into a little business, then a respectable business until he finds himself just as stressed out as before. I sure hope I will never experience that one for myself.
*****
But then so what? If he likes it that way, fine. Better than walking off into dreamland with both eyes wide shut. Actually, I can only think of one situation worse than that. And that is never having the guts to aim for dreamland. Existing all your life instead of trying to live it. Finding yourself on your deathbed with the realization that you have wasted it all. Now that is something to weep for. That is truly sad.
How do you know that you are not procrastinating? How do you know when you are ready? For myself, a simple rule of thumb is that you will continue to need just as much money when you aren't working any more as you need now. If it's a couple or three thousand bucks a month right now, then it will probably stay in that vicinity after you've quit your job as well. And if it's double that, it will probably stay that way too.
*****
The really weird thing about my own plans is that they run counter to my own personality. Unlike my parents, I feel very happy just relaxing. Sitting around and daydreaming, reading a good book, doing a little bit of writing when I feel like it. Taking walks and chatting with friends. And yet I intend to go sailing one more. Which entails more work than your usual day job and costs a lot of money to boot. I know now that I will at times curse myself for the course I have set and wish for "the good old days" (now) where I could look forward to a peaceful evening at home. I will long for that balcony in front of the jungle mountains and I will call myself a moron, an idiot and a lot of worse things when I have to change the engine oil in bad weather or when I have to fix a toilet in heavy seas. But not doing it? Out of the question!
http://tinyurl.com/2sqfy
Quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze
than it should be stifled by dry rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor,
every atom of me in magnificent glow,
than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack London (1876 - 1916)
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Today 128 years ago....
One of my favorite Jacks was born. The Lvgdvnvm one. Mostly known as a fiction writer - he still didn't get enough credit for it - he wrote also at least one piece of excellent non-fiction. Primarily of interest to sailors it should still be good for a laugh for other people as well.
He was an alcoholic, just like the other Jack, he was overweight and I am sure he had all kinds of character flaws. I don't really care though, as he made up for it with his writing as far as I am concerned.
Can't proofread what I am typing here, as my monitor has packed up and just to make things interesting the mouse has ceased to function in sympathy.
Cheers!
Holg
One of my favorite Jacks was born. The Lvgdvnvm one. Mostly known as a fiction writer - he still didn't get enough credit for it - he wrote also at least one piece of excellent non-fiction. Primarily of interest to sailors it should still be good for a laugh for other people as well.
He was an alcoholic, just like the other Jack, he was overweight and I am sure he had all kinds of character flaws. I don't really care though, as he made up for it with his writing as far as I am concerned.
Can't proofread what I am typing here, as my monitor has packed up and just to make things interesting the mouse has ceased to function in sympathy.
Cheers!
Holg