Wednesday, 26 April 2006

Person's Story

When Person was a child, Person had Mother and Father. Later came Brother and Sister. A Family. With its ups and downs. The essence of every relation.


When Person turned into an adolescent, Person saw things differently. There were differences and clashes. Person thought nobody cared. Person fought a lot with brother and Sister, Mother and Father. Person vowed to do everything in order to be able to escape from Family and be alone. Nothing like being alone.


Soon after finishing studies paid by both Mother and Father, Person took off.
Great life.


Person goes far enough from Family so they don't drop over unexpected. Person sends one card, two cards, three cards then zero card back home. Mother and Father call because they are worried. Person changes phone number and forgets to communicate new number. Mother and father receive a postcard from different places of the planet.


When asked by neighbours about Person, Mother and Father proudly smile and say “Person is a Big Person now, hangs around the VIPs”.

The neighbours are jealous because their children haven't made so well in life.


Person's favourite song goes like this:

"I live in MY own apartment
paid by My own money
I come home when I want to
invite whoever I want
make MY own food
with My own hands
eat what I like
go where I want
and then I blog about it all
on MY blog
about MY life
I don't need nobody, no no no, nobody”

One day Mother and Father die. Funeral. Brother and Sister are there. They are inconsolable. The neighbours wonder where person is. Nobody knows. They don't ask Sister. She was so upset the last time they asked her. They don't ask Brother either, he'd turned so red when they'd asked him. The neighbour wonder what happened to Person. Nobody knows.

Person cannot be contacted since there's no address and phone number. Person hears about it through the relative of a person who knew someone who knew someone else who has someone who lives in Person's childhood town.
Person is distressed. There were so many things that haven't been shared with the Parents. Person tries to explain it all to Soul Mate. Soul Mate is puzzled “you never ever mentionned them, I never asked because I thought they were dead!”

Person contacts Sister. A child answers then shouts “Mummy! Phone! A person! Daddy, call Mummy!”

Person is shocked, Sister has a child? Sister is married?
- Hello, says Person.
- .....
- Sister, it's me.
- (crying, sobs)
- Sister, please (crying) am sorry... am so sorry...
- SORRY? You're sorry? Shouts Sister.

Sister slams the phone down.

Person does not call Brother. Person thinks, it's no use.
The years pass and Sister and Brother talk about Person. Maybe the phone would ring one day and it would be Person. Maybe person would realise that Sister was sad and that's why she'd slammed the phone down and not because she hated Person. Person is Family.

Brother has another opinion. He thinks Person cares about one person on earth and that's Person. Person, the forever sorry for Person's own ass. Person, who thinks that the whole world revolves around Person.

The years pass and Person thinks they hate Person to death. Person's favourite song is still the same but it lacks... its lacks warmth, affection, understanding... Person has friends but at the end of the day they all go back to their families. Person is Lonely.

“Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family.

Whatever you call it, whoever you are,

you need one.”


Jane Howard

Saturday, 22 April 2006

Blogging for a while

I've missed this! The two previous posts (if they can be called so) where sent via my mobile phone. Which is also on the verge of rendre l'âme. Am technologically ruined.
What has been happening to my PC is that it keeps on reseting by itself. No time to switch in on and its already resenting by itself. You have no idea how frustrating this can be.
The PC is my one and unique outil de travail. All my work is computerised and I have since the beginning of the week the sentiment of being paralysed. I read and read and read till my head hurt and answered calls and made calls till my ears hurt. Then I'd sit and look and my dead PC, raise my arms to the heavens and wail My? Oh mon Dieu, Why? (sobs)
The timer says I have 3 minutes to go. Phewww am out and posting this while I can!
Thanks for your support guys and vive The International Slap Your PC Day! Do it for me!

Wednesday, 19 April 2006

Hi all! Zut et zut! My PC blogged down! For those of you wondering, thats why am not around! Mince!
I wanna bloooooog!
Peace

Thursday, 13 April 2006

He loves me, I love you not anymore

The rate of divorce is exploding. There are talks about four days marriages. Yes, you read me right, FOUR days. Four as in: 1+3, 2+2, 3+1. It’s not sad anymore. It’s plain absurd.

“I made a mistake; I should never have gotten married to you!”
“We made a mistake; we should have never gotten married!”

We’re human and mistake making prone, is this reason good enough to justify divorce?

One of the conclusions I’ve come to is that getting married is not the mistake people think they make. The mistake they actually make is fall in love. What? You don’t agree? I see you shaking you head there! You’re appalled and you’re thinking “what’s getting into Fitèna?! She’s going bananas? It’s normal to fall in love. It’s great….”

Hear me out.


What do we fall in love with anyway?

The way she walks. The way he cocks his head when he’s listening to you. They way she says your name. The way he talks about his brothers’ kids. The way she puts her hair up. His smile. Her throat laugh. His sense of humor. Her joie de vivre. His zodiac sign. She loves football. He real looks at you. She does not look through you and gives you her full attention.



You’re in love. You date. The sky is blue, the love is true and whom you love is “you”.

Forgot the package didn’t you?

“The way she walks. The way he cocks his head when he’s listening to you. They way she says your name. The way he talks about his brothers’ kids. The way she puts her hair up. His smile. Her throat laugh. His sense of humor. Her joie de vivre. His zodiac sign. She loves football. He real looks at you. She does not look through you and gives you her full attention.”

You get all of that plus the person.


Person as in: Bad hair days. Is a vegetarian and you’re not. Is a cleanliness freak and you’re not. Brother-in-law not a very nice person. Sister-in-law calls at all times because sibling was there for her before you came along. Mother in law calls you “mon enfant” and you hate that but can’t bring yourself to tell her. You tell other party. Other party thinks you’re exaggerating. Because other party THINKS and your thought s and his/hers might clash. As is it, you don’t like his red shirt, the one he wore on your first date and you thought it looked great. As it is, he thinks you should cut your hair. As is it, you think he should grow up and quit making jokes all the time. You forget that that’s what you fell in love with.

You wake up one morning and you definitely don’t recognize the other party. “I made a mistake” you think.

You think wrong. You just fell in love with 15% of the person and forgot the 85% essentials.

Trying to change the other into someone who corresponds more to what the ideal partner is for us. Being always together, doing everything together, going everywhere together. These are the other factors which, I think, lead to divorce. To overcome them shouldn’t be a very very arduous task, if you believe in your couple but “Its over, you’re a good person and am sure you’ll find someone…” blablablabla….

“Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

(Kahlil Gibran)


But what do I know anyway. I’ve no experience in the matter. Maybe you’d care enough to enlighten me.

Monday, 10 April 2006

Money, Money, Money, must be funny....

Yesterday I understood what “little pleasures” of life mean. I wondered why we always carve for more. Why we are never content with what we have. Why when its cold we're mad and wish it were hot and when its hot we're mad and wish it were cold. Human nature. I guess.


My sister and me went to the market. “La Foire” (the bazaar). The end of the month is long gone and we're broke but we went anyway. Just to browse and ohhh ahhh at the displays. It was real fun. I then treated us with Kebabs. We took yogurts and decided to go sit in the municipality's garden and enjoy lunch. Which we did. Immensely. We made up lives for the people around us. Reminisced about life in Niger, Côte d'Ivoire and Sudan. Remembered a picnic we had December of last year with friends who came to mean a lot to us. It was beautiful. There were pigeons around. The sky was so blue and the weather so good. And I started wondering. Why are we never satisfied?


The French news reported about this 16 year old kid who is in coma for rescuing another teenager. The latter was on the point of being racketed at the gate of their high school. The aggressor is 14 years old.


Can you believe that? What can possibly drive a 14 year old to such violence. To say that its materialistic gain would be simplist but it is the case. He went on this kid with the intention of getting off with a mobile phone, an i pod, money.


On Envoyé Spécial, there was a doc on “Mules”. Its a term used to name those who transport drugs inside their bodies from one country to another. With the ultra sophisticated devices used in airport now, many are found out and arrested.


They interviewed this woman who said that t the time she did not measure the consequences. She had trouble making ends meet and decided why not go ahead with the transaction. She was going to get paid for it. The money would be welcome. Only, she got arrested. In a foreign country. With no money. With her children left motherless back home.


When I was a kid, someone mentioned Dalida to me. They told me she committed suicided and explained that it meant that she killed herself. I was horrified and fascinated. Since I'd been told about all the places she sang and the very important people she met and the money she had, i concluded that she got bored and went to see what the hereafter looked like. This belief strangely stayed with me for a very long time. All the people who were committing suicide and whom I was hearing about were all rich. I now know that people chose to end their lives for many reasons. Many of which we might never know, so incomprehensible it seems at times.


Killing for more. Stealing for more. Trafficking for more. Lying for more. Betraying for more. More money, more power, more standing, more appreciation.


I think that Jean Jacques Goldman is absolutely right when he sings

"If I had this,
If I had that,
I would be this,
I would be that
Without things I would not exist
I don't attract attention
Am envious of what others have
I die from what I don't own
....
Things give me an identity”

My mind is created for my own thoughts, which am sharing above, you're entitled to yours. And I want to hear them.

Thursday, 6 April 2006

A Ball Story

Once upon a time in a little village of the World. Man walking down the street. He's happy, he's merry. He seems so. But he has a secret. A terrible, terrible secret. A secret not to be told even to the wind lest it tell it to the trees. He wants to talk about it but talking about it would be even more dangerous than what the secret is about. So he keeps it to himself.

One day, Man trips. There's a “fil indienne” of Women heading back from the market in front of him. Man, did not do it in purpose but he stumbles into Woman One, then Woman Two, Then Women Three. The Four of them turn into a human Ball which goes racing down the road.

The Ball passes into towns and villages of World and takes any Person in its way along with it. The Ball gets bigger and bigger. It is black, white, yellow and red.

A yard with Children playing football. A shadow falls across them. They look up. Its the Ball, its coming down on them. They have no time to run and the Ball isn't slowing. The Ball passes and the Children are no longer there. They've been taken too.
Mother humming a lullaby to Child. The Ball does no come near them, its trajectory is different and then, Mother is Man's wife. He'd stumbled into her first.
Man is gone. Had things been different he would have prevented the tragedy and been a hero. But he couldn't because the World's society does not allow it. He would have been miserable. He would have lost his job. He wouldn't have been able to feed his family. Wife would have left him. Friends would have deserted him. Even those whose job it is to help him would have turned away from him. He would have explained it all. Explained that they could touch, hold and kiss him. That they could love and help him. But they weren't, are not and might never be ready to listen.
Those who saw the Ball passing swore they heard Man sobbing. Asking to watch out for other Balls.

[This week the Sidaction had a number of activities, in France. Line Renaud was guest at the Grand Journal de Canal + to discuss the Sidaction's activities, the problems faced by those infected by the virus of HIV. The story is actually a 40 seconds an ad which was run.
Informative links:
UNAIDS & AMfar
This is a post to celebrate The International Quelque Chose Day]

Tuesday, 4 April 2006

Allô

What's the day today? April 4! Happy International Be Reliable Day. Voilà, that's done!


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I've been meaning to post about this for a long time. The fact that I don not own a digital camera to post the relevant illustration put off the idea. I thought about it again yesterday and decided to go ahead with the post... When I get a picture I'll post it, the literature should do for the time being.


I live in a town called "Quatre-Bornes"; right in the centre of the island. When you live in "Quatre-Bornes" you have easy access to any part of the island. I guess that's where the name came from. They also call it "La Ville des Fleurs"; Flower Ville. Many of the avenues bear flower names. My avenue is Glaieules Avenue. I've yet to see a single Glaieules along the Avenue.



Now, I think it was two years ago, a branch office of the local phone company (BOLPC) was opened on Quatre Bornes Route Royal. Two cabins; one local and the other international have been set in front of the BOLPC. Great, everybody thought. There was no phone cabin there before and you had to walk to upper town to make calls if you did not have a phone.


I always thought there was something wrong with the phone cabins. I never could figure out what. I'd pass in front of the cabins on the way to the bakery or the bus stop and giggle for, apparently, no reason. The people using the cabin would make me laugh. There had to be something wrong. I don't think am a mean person and I laugh WITH people rather than laugh AT them .


It took me a while but I finally figured it out.


Now, the two cabins are situated on the Route Royal. The main road. The road almost every car uses to go from one point of the island to the other. The cars go vrrrrroming and brooooming all day and night long.


The people calling are forever shouting: "Parlez plus fort, je vous entend mal!!!" Speak up, I cannot hear you. They glare at the passing cars and at you when you pass by with a bunch of loud friends.


"Allô? Allô? Allô?" shout they.
"Cling, cling, clang..." goes in the coins.
"Mince. Oh lala!"
"#%$^^&**&"
"Tsst. tsst. tsst" go those who are waiting for the turns, shaking their heads.


They do the "tsst. tsst. tsst" thing more when its a foreigner using the cabin. They must think that the poor devils have no idea how to use the cabin. Only, they too go:

"Allô? Allô? Allô?"

"Cling, cling, clang..."

"Mince. Oh lala!"

"#%$^^&**&"

when its their turn.


I wonder how long its going to take everyone to realize that there's absolutely nothing wrong with the phones. It is the cabins they're in.

You see, they're open cabins situated on a main road where cars and motorcycles go vrrrrroming and brooooming all day and night long .