Trip to MOCA

Last weekend, Lianda and I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art. I am certainly no Fancy Pants Art Critic, but I like looking at cool stuff and pretty colours, so this should have been fun. After seeing this museum, I now believe that many contemporary artists are playing a huge joke, and trying to see just how bizarre a creation they can make, give it a description like, "Is it what it is. Just be." or "I like to allow the viewer to draw their own conclusions about reality and society," or any such bullocks. Then, and this is the tricky bit, convince some unsuspecting Patron of the Arts with more cents than sense to pay them vast sums.

I've attached a few shots, so you can see my fave parts of the exhibition:

You may know that I am familiar with rhino dung, after one of my trips to Africa. I saw this picture, and thought, "Hey, wait a sec....those huge lumps look awfully familiar." I checked the listing of the media used to create the art, and saw this was multi media using acrylic, push pins and elephant dung.

Lianda is for scale, so you can tell just how big this is. She is 5`10 plus platform flip flops, so about 6`1 here.

Also, the picture is sitting on little feet....of dung.

detail....of an Elephant Sex Bomb from the Monkey's Bong??

OK, now what is this? Feel free to submit your best guess. Here are mine:

a) ritualistic dance from Papua New Guinea

b) exerpt from a leaflet: How to Be a Hot Homosexual Lover

c) doodle from a Grade 8 notebook

d) a comment on the Cold War Super Powers

e) none of the above

f) all of the above

I like the helpful up and down arrows. And the great haircuts.

I took this picture myself, outside the museum. I have no idea what that guy is doing. Feeling the feeling from the Art, I guess.
This must be worth a cool $2 million USD, doncha think.

Repent. The End is Nigh!

It's April 20. Yesterday, Julie sent the photo of the SNOW on her back deck. She lives in Summerland, BC. Catch that - SUMMERland!

Now, all those who are not from Canada are probably saying, "Wow, the weather in Canada is really bad. No wonder they get around by dogsled and live in igloos." I don't want to to tell you that's not true. It is.

But, here's the deal - heavy snow in Summerland in February would be a drag. Heavy snow in March would be exceptional and crazy. Heavy snow in late April is PURE MADNESS and likely marks the start of Armageddon. I can only assume Noah is building a boat right now.

I have received requests for some beach photos, so that folks at home can live vicariously through me. So here you go:

Me at

Manhattan

Beach Pier

Santa Monica Beach

Venice Beach

(notice the dread locks? Venice is supposed to be soooo cool. But actually, it's a lot like visiting the stalls at any folk fest in BC. So you've really already seen it, know what I mean?)

Don't hate me for my beautiful life. B-))

Touristing

I spent a few days in London. I love London. So much history of humanity, which I like to explore in the form of great storytelling. I took a whole bunch of walking tours with the London Walking Tour company, and there were all awesome. The guides are really knowledgeable, and I believe they are all actors, as they are animated and fascinating to listen to. And very funny, in that terrific dry english way.
www.walks.com
I learned a tonne of cool stuff, like that London was first named Londonium when it was founded by the Romans. I cannot believe I never clued in that London was a Roman city - of course it would have been! I did one tour inside the ancient city walls. The wall is 95% gone now, but we did walk on a street called 'Wall Street" (in the financial district, coincidentally enough). The old Londoners were pretty literal in their naming of streets, so you can guess what business was done on Shoe Lane, or Stonecutter Street. When I spotted Love Street, and asked about that, he said that during those times, there were 2 streets with legalised prostitution: Love Street and ............ Cock Street. :-P

Could Be True

[For those who have been reading my emails for a while, you will already know the term 'tubab'. It's a slang term for 'white person', pronounced 'TOO-baab'. It's used extensively in The Gambia, as in children see me and shout "Tubab! Tubab! Tubab!" The Congolese know it as well, so maybe it's a common word in Africa?]

A taxi driver told me the story of where the word 'tubab' comes from. He said that a small amount of money in the UK used to be two bob. This is true. So, when people saw a white person, they would say 'give me [in local language] two bob'. Over time, this has changed to just shouting 'twobob, twobob, twobob' with an accent. Tubab.

I guess now I should be called "Five pound! fivepound! ...fiepown! fiepown! fiepown!"

Making My Own Fun #1

While cooling my heels, waiting to Fulfill My Life Goal of Working Internationally, I stay with my 85 y/o aunt at her "Assisted Care Facility" in Llandudno, North Wales. A young person here would be 70. So I have to make my own fun!


The ladies (they are mostly old ladies. Such are the demographics of old age.) have generally led very interesting lives. And I talk to them about that. Here are some highlights:
1. one lady used 'vagina' in a scrabble game recently. She said, "Well, it's really tough to get rid of a V."
2. Mrs. E is 90, walks with 2 sticks, has a stooped neck, and terribly arthritic feet. But she told me one night that she used to love doing the charleston and swinging her long charleston pearls. She kind of mimed it, actually - she flicked her wrist, and wiggled her hips a little. I offered to help her up onto the table to give us a demo, but she just laughed, and politely declined. Bummer.
3. Mrs. L told me about an old movie she had seen. It's called Blonde Bombshells, and it's about an all-girl band formed in 1943. There was 1 guy in it, and he dated each band member, except one. He ran into her years later, and asked her, "Are you sexually active?" Mrs. L said it was really shocking, but of course, the second time she saw the movie, they knew to watch for it.... "Are you sexually active?" tee hee hee, peels of girlish laughter....
4. Mrs. H worked with her husband, distributing war rations immediately after the end of WW2. In 2 weeks, they travelled through London to Belgium to France, and helped to devise a way to distribute too few rations to too many war survivors. Then, they went to Berlin, and worked to distribute rations to the refugees that were streaming into Berlin. The situation was pretty grim, and her husband penned a report detailing it, that was read out in the UK Parliament. She hoped that this contributed to the Allies all working together to try to increase their efforts to help refugees. Years later, in the 70s, she was invited back to Berlin as part of a delegation in celebration of the International Year of the Woman. She was in the German Parliament Building, the Bundesrat, and could look down on the Wall and The Death Strip. She said it was incredible. And awful.

Here Are The News

This is an info post, rather than just a regular entertainment post. I've had a few people ask me the same questions, so here are the news.

Q1: What's going on with the Congo job?
A1: Things are very much parked at 'hurry up and wait' for the Congo job. The history was that I pushed the company a little, and proposed that I do a little investment fund-raising for them, and then accompany the funds to Congo. My point was that I was already booked and leaving to go find work in Africa, they had work, they liked me, I like them, yadda yadda. The timing was not perfect, as I already had my ticket booked, and the Berlin conference arranged. Oh well, why let a few details stop us?
We frantically got stuff kinda ready, but realised that we really needed some face-to-face time to define roles and responsibilities, get to know each other, etc. We had hoped that some deals would complete very quickly in Congo, evryone would go to Kinshasa, and we'd do planning and strategising in Africa. Just to be helpful, but hoping not to be serious, I said maybe I could come back to LA later.... Famous last words.
Africa being Africa, the deal has not gone through yet. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems it should be. They should sell patience in the market there. Actually they probably do, but the side effects would likely be terrible.....headaches? upset tummy? dramatic hair loss??
As well, W, who founded the company, has been really busy and frantic in DRC, waiting for deals to come together, creating new deals, working with people, renting a house, etc. etc. etc. Although it would be awesome if I could fly down and help him, now is not the time to have a white girl turn up who knows no one, doesn't speak the local language, doesn't know the area. I'd be a burden.
So........ I've been cooling my heels, and waiting in the UK for weeks now. I stay with my 85 y/o aunt at her assisted care facility. I make my own fun there, but....I'm the youngest person around by three decades. Going a little looney, actually.
So, me being me [impatient], I proposed that I fly back to LA. So right this second, I am using my groovy mobile broadband dongle, and posting on the net from a train heading for London. This afternoon, I'll fly to LA. We'll have that meeting of all the company members who are still waiting in USA to go to work in DRC. I hope we'll figure out how we'll function together, define roles and responsibilities, etc. Because my background is a little of this, and a little of that, we are not sure how I would best be used.
The options include: A) I run a branch of the company that primarily focuses on humanitarian works such as community development, public health, education, and that sort of thing. Or B) I could be responsible for whatever natural resources business dealings we choose to pursue. I'd liaise with western business types, and help them to be in touch with appropriate people in the DRC. Or C) I could work with one of the other company members, assisting them in what they are doing. Hmmmm, lots of possibilities. Pluses and minuses to each, but all appealing.
Yes, it is exciting! And frustrating.

Q2: What the heck is going on with Mutarr and me? What caused me to break things off?
A2: Long story. I just spent a week in The Gambia. I went to see my friends and colleagues and get some sun. That part was great. And I went to sort stuff out with Mutarr, plus pick up all my African clothes that were at his place. That part of the trip sucked.
It had been a year since I last saw Mutarr. Obviously this is a ridiculous way to try to have a "relationship". We've had lots of fights over the year, the most serious from my perspective were about money. When I met him, he had lots of it, for a poor African. Over the 2.5 years that we've been seeing each other, I've sent lots to help him and his family. Suddenly last fall, he told me he had nothing left in his savings account. This was particularly a big deal to me because when he submits his visa application to attempt yet again to come to Canada, they review his account statements. It's easy: no money = no visa. And WHY does he have less money now, than before I met him?

We fought about all this, and many more topics. How sordid.
He now has more money than ever! How? He was initially really vague about it ("My friend sent me money, and I bought and sold goods") and when I accused him of selling drugs, he then put some further details in: "I bought 4 or 5 goats and sold them." Was it 4? Was it 5?
Anyway, the long and short of it is that I am suspicious. There are too many inconsistencies in so many stories, I have no idea what's true and what isn't. I don't know what is a result of culture, what is dishonesty, or what might be a result of a circumstance I don't understand. Regardless......not a healthy thing for me to do.

Lesson learned (again)
2 very important things for me in a life partner/husband/whatever: money management skills and honesty.

OK, this took a while, I'm now at Heathrow, and they will call my flight pretty soon. California, here I come!!

A peculiar compliment

Mutarr noticed that I had lost weight. In Africa, this would mean a loss of muscle, so he assumed I was really wimpy now.
He said, "When I first met you, you had very big muscles. I thought maybe you were a soldier, in the Army."

Yah right, that's me. Being all I can be. In the Aaarrr-my.

And since you may be wondering, I grabbed my stuff, and this chickie flew the coop. Will wait to see if he communicates via email... Good thing I trained for this huge effort with all my 20 mile runs with 60 kg pack and my automatic weapon. In the Aaarrr-my.

I Like Big Butts...

...and I cannot Lie
Perhaps you know this song by Sir Mixalot?
My African Mom, Muna, was singing a similar type of song to a little baby who is learning to walk. She is a chubby little thing, really healthy and gorgeous. It goes like this:

gye fond day
gye fond day
[something that I don't know enough local language to remember so I can write down]
wong wong
wong wong wong
wong
wong

The translation:
really big butt
really big butt
you can't go wrong with a really big butt!
bum bum
bum bum bum
bum
bum

It's very rhythmically sung, so the baby generally shakes her 'really big butt' and nearly falls over.
Absolutely hysterical.

Yes, this is making our own fun in the village. :)

Gambian Dumping Summit - Part II

the gambian fiance dumping summit was a mess.
it would be easier to negotiate a solution to the security problems in darfur!it's been emotional and horrible. i'm exhausted. too exhausted for capital letters on this sticky keyboard.
there has been an embargo on the said dumping as of now...but i don't feel 100% secure about my decision, so we'll see what happens over time.
today, i was at my family compound (who are on my side), and one of the ladies was dancing at the news that i went to stay at his house last night. how can i stand up to dancing ladies?

siiiiggghhhhh