First Published on February 18, 2012, here it is again. I am silenced. At the enormity of my own life, sometimes. As I take in the reality of how much land I have covered in my travels and how many people I have had decent, and often times deeply meaningful conversations with. How many of them have shared their lives with me. This deep desire for human connection. That gives meaning to it all, the working, the living, the struggling.
In between, it is the human connection, that I see myself in the other.
Sometimes, sometimes, as said the author, my life is beyond my imagination!!
The last few years,
have brought me a realization that I use travel to bring a sense of peace and
rest to my restless soul. That right before I travel I get all nervous,
but I truly rest when I am in trains, in planes, and buses. In these places
I am stuck and cannot be anywhere else. That is the time to truly enjoy,
being in the moment. However, I must say that in the last few trips, I
have brought work with me. Computers and constant availability of WiFi
usurp our peace or beingness. We feel obligated to continue with
the mindless activity that constant link to the world provides us. It is
like being connected to all the 'going-ons' in the world that are of no
consequence to our immediate life.
In between, it is the human connection, that I see myself in the other.
Sometimes, sometimes, as said the author, my life is beyond my imagination!!
From the Left: The little boy, the Hungarian man, the German man, little boy's father.
Berlin, July 2010.
Ever since I can
remember, 'volunteering' has excited me. So when a friend asked me to
volunteer for the World Culture Festival in Berlin, especially with putting
together a documentary, I could not resist. I knew I had to be in
Thailand by middle of July and yet I decided to go Berlin for three days.
Thanks to Ryan Air, and a friend who let me crash at her place to make
the early flight, I could make it.
'You have a wanderlust,
and you need to acknowledge it' my friend said to me the last time I was in the
US.
I never did, but for
some reason, I do have it now. May be, as one gets older one fears that
the world needs to be explored to be understood. May be because
there are too many of us who live outside the norm, and want to
legitimize our existence by knowing trivial details that will never make it in
literature and popular culture. Whatever that may be, I do feel that
places call me. I can hear their whisper. I can hear them call my name.
And I feel a sense of newness every time I step onto a new land. I
breathe the air very deliberately, as if it will infuse a new life in me.
And hope that it will push some of the restlessness, resulting from the
existential angst out through my pores.
But, beyond that
travel-addiction or 'wanderlust' as my friend defined for me, I have the
need to talk to strangers. To know of their lives, to understand the human
condition. And for the last six years I have been rewarded very well.
Some of those strangers have ended up becoming e-pals, some I have shared
some deep emotions with, many I have taken pictures of, but most I leave
behind. And more than most, because of lack of time, hardly even get mentioned
in my journals.
However, what I have
realized in the last decade is that there is a new world that is birthing.
The process is slow, excruciatingly painful, but it is happening and very
welcome. And here is how we recognize it. We cannot tell (or even right guess) simply by looking at people, where they have come from?. The way they talk, the way they live, has little connection to the way they look.
I have met Korean
Germans, African Swedes, Iraqi Kiwis, and many many more who have moved through
several countries before settling in one. I am certainly one of them.
And I always get asked, 'So, where are you from?"
This world that is birthing
is very brave. It is unpredictable, and unlike the one before has no rules.
While all that is scary and unsettling, it is freeing in the sense that
it has little expectations of us, and often is less restricted than the times
of our parents. But its unpredictability does not ensure equality or
happiness. We still have to work at both.
Following is the
account of my first evening in Berlin, when I was returning to the hostel,
after having spent a day helping out with the organization of World Culture
Festival.
July 1st--- arrived in
Berlin in the morning. Finally made it to the Prasier strasse, based
on what Eduardo from the hostel told me. In the train met Paulina, a
french girl who is moving to Germany to study. I could hear some Indians
who had come for the World Culture Festival as well. Only they were
coming from Moscow. As usual, I arrived at my hostel, after getting lost,
and asking a few questions…just as in life…
My dorm was a mixed
dorm. After all these years, I still get quite nervous in mixed dorms.
Interestingly this time there was a young boy from Brazil, J, staying at the
same room. May be because I am older than he is, may be because he is so
polite and kind, I was quite comfortable talking to him. This was his
first time to Europe. Unlike others he had decided to stay only in Berlin
and see the entire city for the next three weeks. And to my surprise I
met, R and D, two boys from India. The boys, who were brothers, were are
little more worldly than I was at their age, even though I had travelled a bit
by their age. But the difference is probably that I did it all on my
own. One of the brothers was actually looking into studying in the US, including
PSU.
Shortly after the
introductions, I headed to meet F, to ask for my volunteer assignment. I
had been in touch with him for over a year and this was the first time to meet.
We had no time to talk, but I was happy to be of service. So, during the
day, I met B, a young documentary maker from NZ, P from Brazil, who had been
living in Spain for the last 6 months had hitchhiked from Spain to Germany to
attend the event. She showed me a bag of nuts and raisins, which was all she
had eaten since she left Spain a few days ago. P currently teaches
English in Spain, and told me that the Art of Living has changed her
life. And Nati, lovely Nati from Poland. (After two days of
me praising her earrings, she came up to me a few minutes before she left and
put her earring in my hands. I had just met her, and have not talked to
her since.)
However, the
highlight of the day was when I was walking back from metro to the hostel at
the end of the evening. I saw two grown men, probably in their
fifties if not older, sitting around a small coffee table, playing chess.
After I stopped, said hello, I found out that one was originally from Bolivia and the other from
Germany. I wanted to record their voices, but instead ended up taking just taking one
picture. The gentle man from Bolivia said that he had been in Germany, 'mas
de curenta anos' More than 40 years.
‘Cansada con alemania?
Oh, are you married to a German?"' I asked.
‘Ungarian' 'Hungarian'
he chuckled.
'Nem todem madyar', I
said, and they laughed. (I don’t know Hungarian. (I used to have a Hungarian
roommate. And my neighbors in Fiji were Hungarian. So I remember a few things,
including ‘Seretlak’ –I love you in Hungarian).
‘Do you know a little Finnish too? said the German guy, sort of
impressed by my one line Hungarian.
‘No, men lite svenska. No, but little Swedish.’ I showed off
without really stating that my Swedish vocabulary is only good to converse with
two year olds.
The Bolivian man told
me that he was fluent in German since he had been living in Germany for Forty
years. I had met someone in Dresden, in 2006, who was a Bolivian and was
married to a German. His child was the blondest boy you could imagine,
and one would never associate fluent Spanish with him.
The German man told me
that he had been to India many times. He thought India was beautiful but something was missing. And when he arrived in Africa, he said, ‘I thought, that is where life started.’ He
explained, ‘India was all tea. Africa was beer and dancing.
‘Beer and dancing all
life?’ I thought. For me, I would switch Beer for ginger tea!!
The German man told me that his son is a good chess player. The
cute boy with a soft-afro, who was fluent both in German and French, blushed
when his dad talked about him.
I had walked towards
them only because I saw them playing chess on the street. But that mere
stopping for a few seconds and taking a picture resulted in such a beautiful
human exchange. It also reaffirmed my faith in this ‘Brave New World’ of
no rules, and no expectation that is scary as hell, and knows no limits on the
joy it can create.
All in all it was a
good conversation. Good for me --to confirm that I am right in thinking
that sometimes people just need a good conversation. It was a joy to talk
to both of them. I had to pull myself away because I was so tired and had an
early day. On my way back to the hostel, I could not help but think that
this mixing and blending of races and cultures is unstoppable and
happening at an unprecedented pace. While one place will maintain its culture
its culture and might be known for artifacts, history, cuisine.....and racially it will become so diverse that one will not be able to predict what people living there might look like. Racial difference will gradually reduce, hopefully bringing more beautiful people, and sturdy homo sapiens ...Africans looking people will spout German, dark haired boys will
sing in Swedish…and hopefully some day North Indians will be fluent in Tamil…..and language will not be a barrier for people who hold the same passport.
That evening I spoke
with J about Brazil, and all that my friends and students from Brazil had told
me about it. We were talking deliberately, using English and Spanish
words. While we were chatting, he waved his hand, asking me to wait ….ran
to the room and brought me back a Brazil’s rugby team shirt. Bright
yellow and green. Probably not my style, but I was so touched by his
gesture. I could not refuse it, because he offered with such genuine love. I will keep it for a long-long time, as a beautiful memory of
the young polite Brazilian boy I met in Berlin, who had just acknowledged his
wanderlust and was ready to experience, the Brave New World…..
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