I cover my eyes and nod my head, I am ashamed of you western world!

On my latest Cuban tour someone had the brilliant idea to gather a bit of money to contribute with goods for the poorest families in Baracoa. It was with a sincere desire to help and an open heart that the idea was accepted and everyone contributed to it.

Once asked what could be a good item to buy, our guide suggested cooking oil, which is an expensive supply and generally doesn't last the whole month if the family depends exclusively on the rations provided by the government.

Money in hand we bought twenty bottles of oil and distributed them while driving through the area of Barracoa. The decision where and when to stop was entirely up to the driver and guide, we stopped mainly in front of the poorest houses and in front of residents talking on the street. 

Every person who received a bottle showed appreciation for the gift, some got emotional, others looked rather confused.

The delivery of bottles quickly shifted from an act of goodwill to a circus. Reclined on my seat, I take a sneaky picture, trying not to be noticed by the old man that looks incredibly surprised by the sudden stop of the tour bus and the consequent delivery of a bottle of golden liquid. ‘Make it quick and fuss free this time’, I whisper, but no, once again, half a bus descends with their cameras and tourist eyes. They make people pose for their cameras holding the bottles of oil. 

Bottom line was when the guide approached a woman washing clothes in the river and handed her his shirt in exchange for the bottle of oil that he had placed on the rocks just beside her. Puzzled, the woman took it and was going to wash the shirt but he stopped her saying that he was joking.

I cover my eyes and nod my head, I am ashamed of you western ego!

Is it right to make fun of poverty????? A bottle of oil is not going to change their lives. A bottle of oil certainly doesn't entitle us to flash people with our fancy big cameras while they pose, reticence and shyly for the tourists (and guide), that suddenly think they are gods and so have the right to invade people's privacy in one click that immortalises that moment that should have been subtle and egoless.

The 'white' man syndrome is still very much alive these days, it is shameful how we think we can rate ourselves from  the amount  of goods we own or can have access to. I saw 'richer' people in Cuba than I see around me, I saw people who value and respect each other more than money could ever buy! 

...it's all new and wonderful but I can only think of the other one...

He's sitting in the corner of the room. So full of hopes and expectations, it's all new and wonderful but I can only think of the other one, the one I know inside out and I wish I could just bring  back to life to avoid having to deal with the newness of a new computer. In the meantime I use the old iPad that has limited functionality and doesn't allow me to edit text. 

Change?! It used to be incredibly easy for me, change country, change job, change hobbies, change hair colour, lately I realised that I take the idea of change with some resistance. 

Is it a sign of maturity (thinking about the long term goals instead of instant gratification), or a sign that I've accommodated to my life? 

December 2002 I climbed the stairs ecstatic. My flatmate was home and I went straight to the kitchen to give her the wonderful news. 'I was accepted...hurray, I am off to Hungary for a pos graduate experience!' (well it ended up being Ireland but that's a whole new story...).

'What? Really? Her face saddened, she started crying and locked herself in her room. 

Glued to her door I said but 'Hey, but I got it, you should be happy for me, not sad.... I'll be back, don't worry!' I did come back but it was for a couple of months and I've been living abroad ever since. 

Two days ago my best friend said she was moving to the countryside and even if I didn't run out the door or cried, inside I felt something cracking. ' You can't do that, said the little silent voice in my heart', ' Ah that's awesome' I vocalised genuinely as I know she has been feeling like moving for a while. Actually we have both been feeling like that but hey she is moving ahead of me which sucks (as it is the part of being left behind that is painful). 

Then it hit me that for the last couple of years I've been resisting change, and oh boy, it is so overdue. Every time I get bored I start off another course and that keeps me motivated but that doesn't change the fact that I've been postponing my future because I am avoiding what will certainly be a huge change.

I now understand how my best friend felt in 2003, change hurts people, but it will hurt you even more if you don't move because you are afraid of it. 

I shall be brave! Now, Lenovo Yoga, come here let's be friends..

I'll miss him, longest relationship i've ever had!

So, what's the diagnosis? 

It's bad! 

A virus? 

No, not a virus. 

Oh no... Manflu? 

Worse... 

What's worse than manflu?

I am afraid it is terminal. 

Terminal?? Cancer you think? 

Lymphatic!... It spread to the whole RAM

This is terrible, how long?

Get your external drive for a backup. 

Jzzzz..that bad?! 

I have hidden the harddrive in such a brilliant place (robbers will never think of it), well now I can't think of it. 

I am becoming my mum, she would find Easter eggs around Christmas and we still eat them, along with Santa. Chocolate is chocolate, never mind the wrapping! Speaking of wrapping, I've bought chocolate in Cuba from a local artisan and it came wrapped on the chemistry school work of her daughter. The first tablet unwrapped had the cover of the exercise (pic)' the second contained notes of what it looked like a chemistry recipe.

'What happened to your homework Laila, the teacher asked?'

'My mum needed the paper to wrap chocolate tablets for some greedy tourists.'

The big bars were disgusting, I've offered one to K&G bragging the deliciousness of the product and the poor guys reacted better than I did when I first tried (spit the whole thing). I am sorry.....the tiny bars were soo tasty! 

He died peacefully in his sleep last night, after the backup. I'll miss him, longest relationship i've ever had! I've dropped it on the first week I've bought it, he reacted well. A few months later I spilled a whole cup of tea on top of the keyboard, it took him three days to recover. I think he realised from the start that he needed to be sturdy if he wanted to last so he did just that and because of it I started treating it better, no more falls or drops and we lasted almost seven years. Should apply the same technique to men I think! 

I need to engulf big chunks of air to expel the excess fire from the stormy heat

I've been sitting on the most uncomfortable chair ever made (too long to allow my feet to reach the ground, too short to allow me to lean backwards and still be able to read). The backs of my knees hurt from the wooden support against the legs, but it is just too hot  and humid to move elsewhere or to even move any muscle.
Sweat drips down my back and my skirt is glued to my legs. Every couple of minutes I feel like I need to engulf big chunks of air to expel the excess fire from the stormy heat.

I can hear the dominos clashing against one another on the improvised table set on the street downstairs, while I can visualise the four old men that play every day on the same place for hours in a row.

From the pateo of 'casa Tony', my presence seems to mingle with the afternoon atmosphere. The noise that would have otherwise annoyed me elsewhere; here it just feels natural, it is the sound of living.

Republic's street in Baracoa isn't the noisiest but certainly not the quietest either in this stormy cloudy afternoon. Spanish tv is audible from the neighbours house, the cock sings at four in the afternoon and the dominos now being shuffled, topless and barefeet kids play with marbles after stripping off their impeccably clean communist school uniforms.

House doors and windows are left open, allowing the passants to peep inside, greet the babies that nah nha nha in their own language. Door to door sellers announce their passage by beeping their bike or van horns. House ladies come to the windows and doors to buy fruits and bread for their guests.
Casa's particulares share the similar concept of B&B in the western world, except that here the family life seems to intertwine with the tourists that come through family spaces such as living rooms and kitchens where people snooze and cook.

There is constant movement, Cuban late afternoons are packed with activities. Cigars are more a myth than reality. They are offered at fancy hotel lobbies and tourist shops but are certainly not seen hanging from the mouths of many Cubans and in fact I have only noticed two or three being smoked on the streets.

The 'system' gives me mixed feelings. Everyone is fed, at least half of the month. ( rationed food isn't enough to feed a family for the whole month), school is free and mandatory, healthcare is also covered. Having some needs met, a good share of Cubans aren't too pushed to make money and instead begging for pens, clothes and exchanges between cuban pesos and cucs (foreign currency).

It is a fascinating place, full of colour, life, beauty and rhythm

May McDonald's, Ikea and supermarket chains never invade this country!

As if it was an alien voice I am surprised by that discovery

I am sitting inside a pitch dark dome at 10:30 pm. The only glimpses of light that once in a while reach the place are the result of silhouettes that come and go, opening and closing the heavy curtains behind them.

I am enjoying the experience of just being here until the moment I start thinking… Are there spiders around? I slip the shoes back on and focus on the soothing drumming sound that resembles a heartbeat and is gently leading me to a lovely comforting place inside my mum’s womb.  I feel protected and cared for and somehow lose track of time and even space. Swirling white and golden filaments can be seen in front of me. 'Is this really happening I wonder?' I stretch my hand and try to touch them but they evaporate. Once I come back to the physical realm I realise that the drumming has ceased and the room isn't only pitch dark but also incredibly silent. 'Am I alone here?' Heart starts racing imagining all sorts of demons but somehow manage to quiet the dragon as I stand up and find my way out.

Outside the bonfire is still burning and my shamanic partner persists in drumming to the last flames. There are a couple of people chatting in the circle but oblivious to the fire. I can see a few ambulating through the grounds showing up from around bushes and tops of trees as the night falls upon us in the forest. I stand there with E observing the flames until the cold takes over my humanity I walk inside for a warm shower before falling asleep in the dorm. Can't recall when was the last time I shared one.. luckily I brought the earplugs as sound sensitivity makes  me a nervous sleeper if I hear snores in the vicinity.

Sunday morning I am told to connect with the energy of the plants, trees and nature. We are let to wonder for an hour under a drizzly sky. The grounds are beautiful and lively and I decide to follow the opposite route to the previous morning. My final destination is the majestic tree near the arches that I sat by the earlier day in meditation.

To connect with the elements we are told to use a rattle a drum or a song. ‘Singing? Are you mad…I can't sing!’ I grab a tiny rattle and follow the path along the lake in a slow pace and contemplative mode.     

I am stopped by a beautiful bushy tree whose branches reach all the way down to the lake, connecting earth and water in the gentlest way.

I sit down by the lake edge just beside the tree’s root and before I notice a humming melody has originated in my chest and is being vocally expressed.My tree doesn't want to be rattled, she wants a song. As if it was an alien voice I am surprised by that discovery. The humming continues with different tones and I feel it reverberate in my heart. It feels good! At the distance another humming echoes mine. It is an exquisite experience that my self conscious mind has been denying to my adult persona. ‘Did I sing as a child? I am pretty sure I did.’ We used to sing, dance and even choreograph our own theatre shows for the parents and neighbours.   

I return to the room full of people in wonder and exploration mode, the shamanic journey continues until later in the afternoon.  

The energetic dancing, drumming, journeying and connecting for over two and a half days finally takes over me and I pass out on Sunday evening happily convinced that Shamanism isn’t a distant practice but very much something that has been within me ever since I first read those Castaneda books in University. Fifteen years passed and I am reminded of the Anthropological curiosity that lead me to go beyond the initial fear of death and darkness as a youngster and the search for that truth and strength that lies within. The Journey of self-discovery lasts a whole life time. Looking forward to find what lies around the next corner in the forest or that rabbit hole in the trickiest lands. The lioness in me has never been this fearless!

At this stage my hands are as dirty as mechanic's hands......

Could you do this for me now he asks? Why is it always an after hours request I wonder? I should have left work on the dot! 
When i put the yoga bag on the back of the bike i check my pocket for the phone, 5:10 dammit i am already late. Suddenly the bike stand gives in and the bike collapses on the ground breaking my mini pink rear-view mirror. Argh I pick up the bike and as I stand up, the high vis jacket grips on to my tights and as I briskly pull it back it rips off my tights. The bike slides again and I hear a crack. Noooo this can't be happening? The bike chain pops out!  My bike is a cute thing but the fact that there's a yellow rail protecting the chain it makes it really hard to bring it back in place without removing the protection rail and I obviously don't have the tools with me. 

At this stage my hands are as dirty as mechanic's hands and I am getting frustrated thinking that I will have to give up and walk. 

A colleague that I had never come across offers his help. After a few attempts we eventually manage to fix it. When I finally put the bag back on the bike he is already cycling at the speed of light so I can't thank him properly.

As I am leaving the work gate I realise it is now  5:20 which means that I've missed my class. This was the only thing I was really looking forward today! 

Feeling defeated I cycle home, as am arriving at the complex a black cat crosses my path and as I am reaching the gate yet another dark cat chances his luck in front of the wheel.

Cutie pie ( my cat) is waiting at the door with meows that say: ' I really don't care about your day, feed me now!' 

I walk in and go straight to the bathroom to wash my hands, the shirt is stained, the tights are ripped and as I look in the mirror I can't help but laughing when I see what it looks like a 'Dali' moustache on my upper lip.

Note to self, do not touch your face with dirty hands, do not put a heavy bag on the back of the bike, but ultimately ignore your boss's  request after hours! 

A To-Do Awaits you..

Was talking to a friend the other day about the amount of information we share online and how our data is sold to companies when we accept ‘cookies.’ How can someone reject cookies? This is the kind of word that makes us smile, it is embedded in our brains, we want more cookies (with hot chocolate preferably). Whoever came up with the idea of calling the data collection ‘cookies’ is a pretty smart person,(and probably fat)!

We have a new platform at work that apparently contains all our data. I had no interest in exploring it until my boss said that I should check if the salary information was correct. Dirty trick as that made me look at all the other tabs and review my information, which I am pretty sure it was her objective.

For some reason my profile was showing my marital status. I clicked there and searched for the option ‘none of your business’, but there wasn't such an option so I left it blank. 

A couple of minutes later the ‘smart’ platform sent me an email: ‘A To-Do Awaits you: Provide supporting documents for your personal data change request’

What??? WTF? That's a bit offensive! 

Is there a single certificate out there? 

Artificial intelligence isn't always that intelligent and neither is predictive texting. 

My phone is a bloody prude who can't spell f***ing so I end up with duckling which hinders the message and when I write my name ‘he’ autocorrects  it to Abs or Bob...nice!  

Thanks for giving her some food, and thanks for the message, made my day!

Last night as I was exiting my neighbour’s lift I noticed a poster of a missing cat and immediately recognised the kitty in the picture as the regular furry legged creature that visits my patio for a pet any odd day.

This afternoon while de-weeding the garden, the kitty showed up, I could sense he was hungry (he never asked for food before) so I fed him some Portuguese gourmet tuna (that was the only fishy thing I had in the cupboard). While he was having lunch I took a picture of his cute figure and send it to the number on the ad. 

                                          An hour later the person who posted the ad replies.

                                                       2 hours later my flatmate texts:

I guess we have just inherited a Kitty!...it's a girl 

I want you to get the h*** out of here, you don't live here

The new flatmate texts asking if he can postpone the move from 2 pm to 4/5, which I agreed; the later the better as I am having cold feet about the whole idea.

3.30, I am in the middle of my yoga practice and he is ringing the bell. This is not a good start!

He is very apologetic but by now he managed to see me in chilled pants, no makeup, messy hair and somehow a bit sweaty. Surely the day would have arrived at some stage or another so at least we are done with this, get used to my home face.

After he finished implanting his things in the kitchen and bathroom I gently reminded him that we have a storage room so boxes go in there, not on top of kitchen boards (feng shui must be maintained).

He does have a sort of nutribullet smoothie maker (which I have been meant to buy for quite some time) so I dispatch my old juicer to the storage room. Brownie points here!

When I was out of the shower he asked: ’What’s your plan for the evening, I can  cook dinner if you want.’ My mind answered: ‘I want you to get the h*** out of here, you don't live here yet my protective mind says but I managed a diplomatic: ‘thank you but no thank you’   

Sitting in silence in the living room while reading the paper I eat leftovers for dinner and enjoy the last Sunday of aloneness whilst closing yet another chapter of my life.

You know you have been spending too much time online when you try to scroll down on a book....

You know you have been spending too much time online when you try to scroll down on a book....

I have spent a couple of evenings over the last month with the Ipad on the left, the iphone on the right and the study book in front of me but was feeling restless and out of focus  and skilfully used all the excuses to distract myself from achieving what I needed to do.

This afternoon my phone suddenly died, not only I could not check the time as I don't wear a watch but in addition I didn't even know my friends number or anyone’s phone number as a matter of fact.  It hit me that I hadn’t memorised a single phone number from my phone list and wasn't sure which number to dial in case of emergency was it 911 or 111? (it is actually 999 and 112 in Ireland). ‘Gosh, I must work on that, I thought.’ I grabbed the phone, oh yes ok, you are dead.        

So I did the unexpected, instead of window shopping I sat down for two hours in a cafe reading the Yoga book (that I put in the bag out of guilt before leaving the house), those were the two most productive hours I had in a long time. No internet, no computer, no phone. I scribbled 5 answers from the long list of 50 of the Yoga course while sipping tea. On my way to the appointment I remembered the world when there were no mobile phones and where we had to go to libraries to do the research for assignments.

Is the internet and the immediate access to information making us learn things that we could never have access to in such a fast way so allowing us to absorb more knowledge than previous generations or is it giving us all ADD from ultra stimulation?

Once home I managed to resuscitate the poor oldie phone and memorised my father’s phone number. 'Dad, you should be happy to know that you are my only free pass from jail!'

No switch off and go... 

This brings as much ethical concerns as artificial intelligence

So.. Yes I am late but by now we all know that time isn't a linear concept anyway so it makes no difference. Although if you give this excuse to your boss he might not be too pleased!

Time...I have be wondering about it since watching ‘While we were young’ but it was recently reinforced in therapy when I was asked by a patient to regress him to the past since there was something he had done that wasn’t happy about it and wanted to undo it. Staring into his eyes for a second it occurred to me that this might not be safe territory to go. Where’s the exit? Had he killed anyone? I proceeded with care asking indirect questions to find out exactly what he was determined to rewind.  I am used to ‘regress’ patients with the intention of healing traumatic events or to reveal the cause of a particular symptom but never to actually change the conduit of life events.

According to my beliefs we can’t undo an action, all we can do is to minimize the consequences by talking to the person that we have harmed but if he/she doesn't want to be contacted we just have to accept and respect.  Hopefully we will learn with the mistake and know better next time.

Can we change the course of history by the use of astral travelling or any other projection techniques?

If there’s such a thing called destiny, can we turn away from it altogether and create a completely new canvases by manipulating the past? This brings as much ethical concerns as artificial intelligence. There are certain things that scare me and one thing is for sure, fate seems to have a very tricky way to show up unexpectedly. Ask Oedipus! 

Is my house made of sugar or what?

 After a few weird prospects that I was afraid of looking in the eyes in case my psychic abilities would suddenly kick in and allow me to see the murders they committed, I ordered the man in the sky to stop sending me freaks. Friends are worried for my safety as they know it is quiet at night around here and there’s a river in front (for easy disposal of bodies). So that evening I asked the universe for a yogi flatmate as I figured the monk was a bit unrealistic. 

The day after I was sent a 28 year old Indian playboy who paints, plays guitar and whose father is a yoga teacher. Although, to make things interesting he (the master eye, always does this to me), also sent another Indian guy who practices yoga, cooks and dances salsa. Thank you for your effort Universe, I suppose that is the closest you found to my request in such a short notice (you still have to work on that winning the lotto deal, it’s now two months since I've started playing...just saying) .

As you know, I am famous for being impulsive (let’s move to Brazil next month- sort of thing) but also for my bad decisions in picking men (30daysforonlinemenshopping blog) so I decide to sleep on it. This is not someone you can easily dump, friends warned; they'll be signing a contract. (I get the fears and wonder if getting a flatmate is the right way to go after all).

I wake up knowing that the second man is the best option (if only I had followed this rule on dates).   

Easter Sunday and I am sitting in the yard  reading the paper while unwrapping my second chocolate egg from its fancy paper. Can't help feeling accomplished with the creation (making healthy gourmet chocolate is my thing these days). There are tons of kids running around, ok not tons, 3 but still they make as much noise as 10. They open the gate, close the gate, and scream like caged animals wanting to get in. Is my house made of sugar or what?

The squishy noises echo in my ears.  I could always play the weeds game with them and use these little creatures to clear the garden from the unwanted weeds that have grown over the winter but eventually their mum came to rescue me from the noisy mini people. 

Useless... as soon as she goes back inside they run towards my gate again. AHHHH go away.. In despair I throw them chocolate eggs, their eyes shine and they retreat...HAPPY EASTER!     

What? you are kidding me???!!

Where’s all my travelling money gone I wonder? It is the 29^th of March and I haven't yet booked a trip away, apart from London in January for a conference and a weekend in Lisbon in February but that was to visit the folks. Ok fine 2 trips... and I did go to Scotland for work but that doesn't count either. I mean real exploration, holidays, somewhere new and cool! Last year I went to Copenhagen in March, Turkey in May, Portugal in August, Northern Ireland In September, Cyprus in October and Iceland in December so enhm.. you see what I mean.   

A house facing the river with a guest room, a real kitchen and a fireplace sounded such a fantastic idea for an upscale but unfortunately my salary didn’t go through the same upgrade so 11 months into the change I realise that I need more travelling cash and the simpler way to do this is to find a flatmate. Shock, disbelieve...it is how my friends reacted to the ‘sudden’ decision: ‘What?...You???? You said you never ever, ever, again would live with a flatmate!’  

Having lived alone for the past 5 years it is kind of scary to embrace the idea of having a flatmate again. In over my 10 year career of sharing I have lived with psychos, food stealers, dirty f***ers, drama queens, loud nymphomaniacs and depressing zombies  but also really cool people who made me dinner when I had to study, put the bin outside once it was full and removed all the hair from the bathtub after the shower. Some became really good friends as they brought music, dancing, laugher and unexpected moments to my life.

So, fingers crossed..Here’s the add...is it going to be as difficult to find as the perfect man?  

Looking for the 'perfect' flatmate'. Preferably a man (as you guys have fewer things). Someone who is active and isn't always in (there's no TV) and that respects peace and quiet.

I am into arts and crafts, reading, cooking, practicing yoga, dancing and meditating. Someone who is into this and respects this lifestyle...

A person who is tidy, clean, friendly, interesting and fun!

If you are loud, drunk, eat with your mouth open and have spiders as pets stay away!

Cheers,

A