http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/ What's on the minds of young leaders from around the globe? en-us http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/543759
THE SWISS BOOK PRIZE 2008 (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)

Books galore at Basle 08. An author named Wolfang Bortlik went even so far as to say,
“books have now ( after the fixed price went down) the same character as commodities like socks and toothpaste.” Thereby implying that touching a book is like touching any other ware. It’s not a sacral but a profane object of delight. Which reminds me of the publisher who started reading a manuscript, then went to change his clothes and came out wearing a dark suit and a bow-tie to show reverence towards the would-be author. The book was a classic. ‘Education,’ said Dr. John G. Hibben, a one-time President of Princeton University,‘is the ability to meet life’s situations.’ He could have added the word ‘aqequately.’

‘What’s the difference between BookBasle and Book 08?’ you might ask. BookBasle is a thing of the past and was more or less a well-organised Fair. But Book 08 has new ambients, and for the first time Switzerland has created a Swiss Book Award for established and aspiring writers of this ravishingly beautiful Alpine Republic. I went to Morschach in Central Switzerland during the Summer holidays and thought I was already in Heaven, you know. Alone in 2007, 110 organisers and 152 participating publishing houses (small and big) were interested in Book 08. Now it’s over 400 publisher-stalls and rather international. ‘International’ in the Swiss context means, of course, publishers from big German and Austrian cities like: Munich, Frankfurt upon Main (not Frankfurt upon Oder), Berlin and Vienna. Lübbe is a good name, for instance, with Dan Brown’s ‘Sacrilege’ and others. If you prefer listening rather than talking or reading, there are author forums where the authors read from their latest books.

Now the question: who’s gonna read at Basle 08? I find Friday 14,2008 rather interesting not only because Cornelia Schinzzilarz, Adam Davies, Slavenka Draklic and György Dragoman will be reading and answering questions, but also this year’s Man Booker Prize recipient Aravind Adiga with ‘The White Tiger’ (German title ‘Der Weisse Tiger’ published by C.H. Beck, 2008. Aravind works as a correspondent for the newsmag Time and The Financial Times. He was born in 1974 and the protagonist of his first novel is Balram Halwai, (I love halwa from Mumbai, you know) who tells his story in the first person singular. Halwai has a fantastic charisma and shows you how you can climb the Indian mainstream ladder as a philosopher and entrepreneur---and ends as a murderer. The worst part of it is that he even justifies it and doesn’t have a conscience that pricks him.

You’ve probably read ‘Goodbye Lenin,’ dear reader. This time it’s ‘Goodbye Lemon,’ a touching novel with dark humour about memories, mourning and forgiveness written by Adam Davies.

In this fast-living, egoistic consumer society, relationships tend to be fragile. It’s often touch and go. A series of wrong words and the partner looks for and finds another. The Swiss journalist Karin-Dietl-Wichmann knows what she’s talking writing about in her ‘Lass dich endlich scheiden,’ (published by Heyne 2008) which means ‘File a divorce for Heaven’s Sake.’ She was married thrice and knows how to go about it and admonishes women, without batting an eye-lid, to evaluate their marriages and shows that there’s no reason to uphold a partnership where there’s no fundament. Do check your basis.

‘Leben Spenden’ published by Zsolnay, 2008, which means ‘Donate Life’ is a book by one of the most well-known Croatian authors: Slavenka Drakulic. She had to go to the USA in September 2004 to get a kidney-transplantation. It wasn’t her first, you know.

‘Der weisse König’ which means ‘The White King’ is György Dragoman’s second novel. The first one was ‘The Book of Destruction’ with the German title ‘Das Buch der Zerstörung’ which received a literary prize. The current book is being translated at the moment into fifteen languages. Dragoman was born in 1973 in the Seven-Hills of Romania (Siebenbürgen) and lives since 1988 in Budapest. His books have been published by Suhrkamp, a German publishing house.

At last year’s BuchBasel Fair you could find strange books like: Das Kifferlexikon, a compact encyclopedia on Cannabis sativa (hash) and others books like ‘Das Joint Drehbuch’ with a pun on the verb ‘drehen’ and even a cooking book with the title ‘Das Rauschkochbuch.’ Thomas Kessler, an author from Basle, has even written a book with the title ‘Hanf in der Schweiz.’ At the moment Kessler is responsible for the Integration of Migrants at the Canton-Basle City. Another interesting character at the past BookBasel was Tom Kummer, a journalist, who’d written interviews with Hollywood stars. The problem was he’d met them only in his mind. Herr Kummer had an explanation: he said he was representing Borderline-Journalism in which reality is consciously mixed with fantasy. His incredible book? ‘Blow Up: The Story of My Life’. I personally think he made a hash of the genres. I’ve heard about borderline medical cases during my medical and social science studies, but this really beats it. A wonderful example for students of Creative Writing classes how not to create and stir fiction with non-fiction. If you do, then please declare your ingredient as fiction and you’re on the safe side.

Can a book, film or PC game have the same negative effect on small readers? There have been discussions about the Grimm Brothers and their Fairy Tales which are said to be ‘too brutal at times.’ I had a talk with a bespectacled, elderly Freiburger European ethnologist, Frau Schaufelberger, who lectures on the subject and she said, “No, I think that it’s good to have bad or scary tales also, otherwise we’ll be giving a wrong picture about real life to the children.” Compared to what the kiddies watch in TV and DVDs, the Grimm and other Fairy Tales around the world are tame, not-so-scary and have educational values for they uphold values and norms of the concerned societies and their cultures.

So who’s going to win the Swiss Book Prize 2008? There are five favourites. Lukas Bärfuss, Rolf Lappert, Adolf Muschg, Peter Stamm and Anja Jardine. It’s evident that the Swiss ladies are underrepresented in the alpine literary world. The Swiss Book Prize involves a matter of 50,000 Swiss Franks (the German Book Prize offers 25,000 Euros) and the four losers will go home with 2,500 Swiss Franks in their pockets, which is indeed a great discrepancy compared to the first prize. Well loser can’t be choosers, oder? But one thing is sure: all five authors will cash in on publicity, honour, privilege and special presentations at other diverse Book Fairs.

Anja Jardine, is a newcomer and her book carries the title ‘Als der Mond vom Himmel fiel’ which in English means ‘When the Moon fell from the Sky’ published by Klein Aber, Zürich.). Lukas Bärfuss has written an explosive political book on Ruanda ‘Hundert Tage’ published by Wallstein, Göttingen. Author Adolf Muschg is already prominent and is known for his minimal writings that have maximum effect. His book has the title ‘Kinderhochzeit,’ a love story and a portrait of a family based in the Upper Rhine, published by Suhrkamp, Frankfurt. Peter Stamm is billed as a typical Swiss author with his normal tales about everyday life and his book ‘Wir fliegen’ has been published by S. Fischer, Frankfurt. Rolf Lappert has penned a major novel based in Ireland among other places, and he combines great story-telling with experimental makings. His book ‘Nach Hause schwimmen’ has been published by Carl Hanser, Munich. Lappert was nominated for the German Book Prize but didn’t make it. He’s 50 and lives in Ireland. Perhaps he’ll swim home to win the Swiss Prize. I wish him luck. This year’s German Book Prize winner is Uwe Tellkamp, a sympathetic fellow who also lives in Freiburg, like Yours Truly, and will also read from his prize-winning book ‘Der Turm’ which means ‘The Tower.’

Unlike the jury decisions of the Man Booker Prize in UK, the Swiss Jury has a Swiss yardstick called quality. The prize will be announced on November 15,2008 at the Book 08 in Basle.

The five critic in the jury are: Martin Ebel from the Tages-Anzeiger, Sandra Leis from Der Bund, Manfred Papst from the excellent NZZ am Sonntag, Hans Probst from Radio DRSZ and the free-lance critic Martin Zingg. Switzerland is small and everyone knows the other, and whether the literary prize will be renowned or not will naturally depend on the reputation of the jury and its sense and idea of excellence, curiosity and independence in decision-making and choosing a winner. Swiss TV will carry out the entire spectacle, of course, because it has to be a big event. To borrow a line from P. B. Shelley: if November comes, can the Christmas book-business be far behind?

Grüezi! Hope to see you there.

* * * *


About the Author: Satis Shroff is the published author of three books on www.Lulu.com: Im Schatten des Himalaya (book of poems in German), Through Nepalese Eyes (travelgue), Katmandu, Katmandu (poetry and prose anthology by Nepalese authors, edited by Satis Shroff). His lyrical works have been published in literary poetry sites: Slow Trains, International Zeitschrift, World Poetry Society (WPS), New Writing North, Muses Review, The Megaphone, The Megaphone, Pen Himalaya, Interpoetry. Satis Shroff is a member of “Writers of Peace”, poets, essayists, novelists (PEN), World Poetry Society (WPS) and The Asian Writer.

Satis Shroff is a poet and writer based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) who also writes on ecological, ethno-medical, culture-ethnological themes. He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Sciences in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and the United Kingdom. He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. Since literature is one of the most important means of cross-cultural learning, he is dedicated to promoting and creating awareness for Creative Writing and transcultural togetherness in his writings, and in preserving an attitude of Miteinander in this world. He lectures in Basle (Switzerland) and in Germany at the Akademie für medizinische Berufe (University Klinikum Freiburg) and the Zentrum für Schlüsselqualifikationen (University of Freiburg). Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize.






]]> Mon, 01 Dec 2008 15:59:00 EST http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/543759 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/486377
As tradition demands in the Swiss Alps, the cattle were decorated with pine-branches, big bells on their necks, silk roses and, of course, small Swiss flags. After enjoying the freedom of the Alpine meadows in the Flumserbergen, the cows trudged reluctantly again all the way to the Valleys---and eventually the stalls in their cowsheds. What a lovely end to the Alpine summer.

It was also on Saturday that the Swiss Fastnacht’s symbolic character named Brother Fritschi returned to his homeland Lucern after languishing for eight months in the custody of the Basler merry-makers of Fasnet or Fastnachtlern, as we call ‘em here. Some 250 inhabitants of Central Switzerland came to Basle on Saturday to free Fritschi from his imprisonment. It might be mentioned that Fritschi was given a sumptuous meal before he was set free. He was nabbed robbing and the custodians were lenient and he was allowed to watch a soccer match at the local St. Jackob’s Park. When he arrived in Luzern, he was greeted by his spouse and he rejoiced and danced on the Rathausstegbrücke ( a bridge to the town council) with his spouse Fritschene. Prior to that Fritschene had admonished and battered him for his bad ways.

This story of Fritschi’s imprisonment dates back to 500 years and the Basler servants of war (Kriegsknechte) kidnapped Fritschi in those days.

What a coincidence. It’s still September but in Munich the Octoberfest is going on in full swing. It was declared open by the Oberburgermeister Christian Ude, who hammered a peg into a keg of beer and said: “O’zapft is!” which is the Bavarian way of commencing the Octoberfest. On this 175th Octoberfest, the first person to take a swig of beer was the politician Günter Beckstein, who’s a real Bavarian. He was under fire in the German media recently for he’d said: “You can drive a car even if you’ve had two krugs of beer.” No one seemed to be amused. The traditional alpine dirndl-look is very ‘in’ for visitors to the Octoberfest. And you’re allowed to smoke as much as you like in the beer-tents and the meadows. Poor non-smokers and cows.

That was Saturday and I’m on my way to Staufen also known as the Faust-town. As I wait for for the red bus to come in Kappel, a lovely Black Forest area, I talk with a sweet old lady who’s also on her way to the railway-station---the Hauptbahnhof.

“Autumn is with us now, isn’t it?” I ask her.

She replies in the affirmative. The flowers are still in the fields, ready to be plucked, and so is the maize. Nearby, the grass has been cut with the help of a harvester and you see big rolled bundles of prospective hay scattered like in an oil-painting by Vincent van Gogh. Last week the grass was green and now the leaves have taken on different hues:yellow, brown and russet.

‘Do you like winter?’ I ask her.

‘I love all the seasons, especially autumn and winter,’ she replies.
She adds: “You know what, I’ve even composed a poem about autumn (Herbst).

‘Oh, indeed? Then let me hear it,’ I tell her.

She clears her throat and begins to recite her own poem in a trembling voice:

Herbst

Es wenden sich die Blätter
Die Wälder sind schon leer.
Bald kein einziges Mücklein,
Im Strahl der Sonne mehr.
Es naht der kalte Winter,
Mit seine weißen Pracht.
Und so freuen sich die Kinder
Zu eine Schneeballschlacht.

Translation:

Autumn

The leaves flutter and turn
The forests are already empty.
Soon there won’t even be a small fly,
In the rays of the sun.
The cold winter approaches
With its white mantle.
And the children rejoice,
To enjoy a snow-ball fight.

I thanked her for the poem and we parted. I’m sure we’ll meet again in the bus someday. At the main railwaystation I take the regio train to Basle. The train speeds past the hillocks with vineyards of Ebringen and I get off at Bad Krözingen, not bad-crossing, but a place known for its spa. I take a smaller train to Staufen. And here begins a journey like in the story of Hellmut Holthaus which is incidentally also the introduction to the traditional town-stories (STAdtGESchichten), which the Staufener prefer to call STAGES.

“Paint a fairy tale town for me…” goes the story of a town called Staufen. It is a lovely little town with cobbled streets, located below a Burg, a castle which is in ruins now, but has been pepped up with mortar on a side of the castle-wall for different events. You discern the troops of the town as they come marching to the tune of drums and flutes. They march from the Chaplain Gate to the marketplace, where they get an order from the town-carer (Vogt) to guard Staufen. The market-in-charge proclaims the strict rules addressed to the owners of taverns and inns and the market-vendors. The town-guards in their quaint costumes bringe the People’s Tower under their control, the Malefiz Tower and the Baders Loch too.

It being the Middle Ages, you can hear the fiddles, tambourines and wonderful music, smell and try the tasty wines and get a whiff of delicious meat being roasted in the open fires, and other appetising Middle Age specialities being prepared in the frying pans.

Some 600 people of Staufen are dressed in colourful long gowns and the males have hats on, the maidens with braided or long flowing hair. There are earnest and motley clothed people in the streets: a man with a beige coloured sloppy hat and long gown and jacket goes past you. He could be a rich merchant. A charcoal-smeared old woman with a white cloth on her head, white smog and prussian blue tunic.

Along the Hauptstrasse and Kirchstrasse are vendors selling jewellery, clothes, leatherware, historical music instruments. Staufen’s marketplace dates back to the Town Laws passed in the 14th Century and they’ve retained this feature even today. Meanwhile, cavalier with a rouge feathered hat, set at a rakish, white shirt with laces and a fine cape saunters by. He smiles that cynical smile of the arrogant gentry. A knight wearing a chain-armour struts by, armed with a lance and a heavy sword. All the people go aside where, and when, he appears. A red haired woman plays the tambourine---selfconscious and proud. Red-headed women were ridiculed and burned as witches formerly. This woman is strong, defiant and admirable. A wonderful person.

A squire and his timid wife float by and she gives you a broad grin. She’s wearing a blue and maroon dress and holds her spouses’s arm, lest he look at other damsels. Jolly drinking peasants with jugs in their hands and ale and beer in their bellies. A young maiden with a face that hauntingly similar to Angelina Jolie has a falcon on her right hand. A bearded German comes along playing bagpipes and he stoops to thank a generous lady with a beautiful hat, red lips, blue eyes and golden dress, nods and disappears in the crowd.

There’s music in the air. Music and dance have changed through the centuries. The atmosphere is filled with tones from bagpipes, guitars, mandolins, drums, flutes and beckon you to dance. There’s almost every music to suit one’s taste: boogie woogie, stepdance, from the peasant’s polka to the courtly menuette. You can’t help being infected by the rhythms and tunes.

Cannon-fire, jugglers, vendors, the poor and the rich, people belonging to different epoches at a hiatus in Staufen. The torch bearers march through the inner part of the town, followed by the musicians, the display of the badges of Staufen on the flags and shields, the knights of Staufen. The talk is about the courage of the heroes (Heldenmut), followed by a clashing of swords, the honour of the knights, even quarrels among the neighbours. Everything of significance seems to be unfurling in this Staufener kaleidoscope right before your eyes.

It was in September 24, 1848 that the freedom fighters under the command of Gustav Struve and his wife Amalie marched from Lörrach to the town of Staufen. Whereas Struve’s fighters are fired with thoughts of freedom, the people of Staufen have their fears. You see Gustav Struve demanding a republic from the Town Council’s balcony as the revolutionary fighters build barricades on the streets and bridges. A general named Hoffmann comes to Staufen with the government troops of the duke of Baden and what results is a fierce battle. Cannons and muskets are fired from the gate-walls of Staufen by the revolutionists and the government guards. The revolution has begun and the people sway the tricolour flag: black, red and yellow. A lot of people die or are wounded and as the veil of smoke from the cannons vanishes, so do the republican hopes of the people who fought for a revolution 160 years ago. Gustav Struve manages to flee. What remains are the dead musicians, citizens, debris and smoking cannon balls on the Staufener facade.

If you ask me whether I’ll go to the next Zeitreise in Staufen (time travel), you bet I surely will..]]> Thu, 25 Sep 2008 05:00:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/486377 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/478195 Zeitgeistlyrik: The Gurkhas Are With You (Satis Shroff)

Ayo Gurkhali!
The Gurkhas are upon you!
This was the battle-cry
That filled the British heart,
With pride and admiration,
And put the foe in fear.

Now the Gurkhas are not upon you.
They are with you,
Among you,
In London,
Guarding the Queen at the Palace,
Doing security checks
For VIPs
And for Claudia Schiffer,
The Sultan of Brunei.
Johnny Gurkhas
Or as the Brits prefer:
Johnny Gurks.

Sir Ralph Turner,
An adjutant of the Gurkhas
In World War I said:
‘Uncomplaining you endure
Hunger, thirst and wounds;
And at the last,
Your unwavering lines
Disappear into smoke
And wrath of battle.’

Another General Sir Francis Tuker
Spoke of the Gurkhas:
‘Selfless devotion to the British cause,
Which can be hardly matched
By any race to another
In the whole history of the world..
Why they should have
Thus treated us,
Is something of a mystery.’

9000 Gurkhas died
For the Glory of England,
23,655 were severely wounded
Or injured.
Military glory for the Gurkhas:
2734 decorations,
Mentions in despatches,
Gallantry certificates.

Nepal’s mothers paid dearly
For England’s glory.
And what do I hear?
The vast silence of the Gurkhas.
England has failed miserably
To match the Gurkha’s loyalty and affection
For the British.

Faith binds humans
The Brits have faith
In the bravery and loyalty,
Honesty, sturdiness, steadfastness
Of the Gurkhas.
Do the souls of the perished Gurkhas
Have faith in the British?
Souls of Gurkhas dead and gone
Still linger seeking injustice
At the hands of Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth II,
Warlords, or was it warladies, they died for.
How has the loyalty and special relations
Been rewarded in England
Since the Treaty of Segauli
On March 4, 1816 ?
A treaty that gave the British
The right to recruit Nepalese.

When it came to her own kind,
Her Majesty the Queen
Was generous.
She lavishly bestowed lands,
Lordships and knighthoods
To those who served the crown well,
And added more feathers to England’s fame.
A Bombay-born Salman Rushdie
Gets a knighthood from the Queen,
For his Satanic and other verses.
So do Brits who play classic and pop.

When it comes to the non-British,
Alas, Her majesty feigns myopia.
She sees not the 200 years
Of blood-sacrifice
On the part of the Gurkhas:
In the trenches of Europe,
The jungles of Borneo,
In far away Falklands,
Crisis-ridden Croatia
And war-torn Iraq.

Blood, sweat and tears,
Eking out a meagre existence
In the craggy hills of Nepal
And Darjeeling.
The price of glory was high,
Fighting in the killing-fields
Of Delhi, the Black Mountains,
Khyber Pass, Gilgit, Ali Masjid.
Warring against Wazirs, Masuds,
Yusafzais and Orakzais
In the North-West Frontier.
And against the Abors,
Nagas and Lushais
In the North-East Frontier.
Neuve Chapelle in France,
A hill named Q in Gallipoli.
Suez and Mesopotamia.
In the Second Word War
Battling for Britain
In North Africa, South-East Asia,
Italy and the Retreat from Burma.

The Queen graciously passes the ball
And proclaims from Buckingham Palace:
‘The Gurkha issue
Is a matter for the ruling government.’
Thus prime ministers come and go,
Akin to the fickle English weather.
The resolute Queen remains,
Like Chomolungma,
The Goddess Mother of the Earth,
Above the clouds in her pristine glory,
But the Gurkha issue prevails.

‘Draw up a date
To give the Gurkhas their due,’
Is the order from 10 Downing Street.
‘OMG1,
We can’t pay for the 200 years.
We’ll be ruined as a ruling party,
When we do that.’

A sentence like a guillotine.
Is the injustice done to the Gurkhas
Of service to the British public?
It’s like adding insult
To injury.
Thus Tory and Labour governments have come
And gone,
The Gurkha injustice has remained
To this day.
Apparently,
All Englishmen cannot be gentlemen,
Especially politicians,
But in this case even fellow officers.2
Colonel Ellis and General Sir Francis Tuker,
The former a downright bureaucrat,
The latter with a big heart.
England got everything
Out of the Gurkha.
Squeezed him like a lemon,
Discarded and banned
From entering London
And its frontiers,
When he developed gerontological problems.
‘Go home with your pension
But don’t come back.
We hire young Gurkhas
Our NHS doesn’t support pensioned invalids.’
Johnny Gurkha wonders aloud:
‘Why they should have thus
Treated us,
And are still treating us,
Is a mystery.’

Meanwhile, life in the terraced hills of Nepal,
Where fathers toil on the stubborn soil,
And children work in the steep fields
A broken, wrinkled old mother waits,
For a meagre pension
From Her majesty’s far off Government,
Across the Kala Pani,
The Black Waters.

Faith builds a bridge
Between Johnny Gurkhas
And British Tommies,
Comrades-at-arms,
Between Nepal and Britain.
The sturdy, betrayed Gurkha puts on
A cheerful countenance,
And sings:
‘Resam piriri3,’
An old trail song
Heard in the Himalayas.


About the Author: Satis Shroff is the published author of three books on www.Lulu.com: Im Schatten des Himalaya (book of poems in German), Through Nepalese Eyes (travelgue), Katmandu, Katmandu (poetry and prose anthology by Nepalese authors, edited by Satis Shroff). His lyrical works have been published in literary poetry sites: Slow Trains, International Zeitschrift, World Poetry Society (WPS), New Writing North, Muses Review, The Megaphone, The Megaphone, Pen Himalaya, Interpoetry.
Satis Shroff is a member of “Writers of Peace,” poets, essayists, novelists (PEN), World Poetry Society (WPS) and The Asian Writer. He is a regular contributor on The American Chronicle and its 21 affiliated newspapers in the USA, in addition to Gather.com etc.
]]> Mon, 15 Sep 2008 05:15:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/478195 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/453557
Beware the Ides of September
Manchester will be a milestone
In Gordon Brown’s polit-life.
Your economic ‘competence’
Has become an Achilles heel,
Your weak point.

The people’s party of New Labour
Wants to get rid of you.
These are the rumours,
Heard in the trendy streets of London.

Twelve months ago Gordon Brown
Was the Messiah of Brit politics,
After Blair’s disastrous role in the Labour,
Unpopular, depressed,
His energy absorbed by Iraq.

Alas, even the new Messiah
Has lost his face,
Within a short time.
His weakness: decision making.

England is nervous, fidgety,
For Labour fears a possible loss,
Of its 353 Under House seats.
Above the English cabinet,
Looms a Damocles sword.

Will Labour watch
And drink Darjeeling tea,
Till a debacle develops?
Labour is in a dilemma.

Hush, help is near.
David Miliband is going vitriolic.
A silly season indeed,
Drinking Darjeeling tea in England.


FROM LICHHAVIS TO MAOISTS (Satis Shroff)

Lichhavis, Thakuris and Mallas have made you eternal
Man Deva inscribed his title on the pillar of Changu,
After great victories over neighbouring states.

Amshu Verma was a warrior and mastered the Lichavi Code.
He gave his daughter in marriage to Srong Bean Sgam Po,
The ruler of Tibet, who also married a Chinese princess.

Jayastathi Malla ruled long and introduced the system of the caste,
A system based on the family occupation,
That became rigid with the tide of time.

Yaksha Malla the ruler of Kathmandu Valley,
Divided it into Kathmandu, Patan and Bhadgaon for his three sons.

It was Prithvi Narayan Shah of Gorkha,
Who brought you together,
As a melting pot of ethnic diversities.
With Gorkha conquests that cost the motherland
Thousands of ears, noses and Nepalese blood.
The intrigues and tragedies in the palace went on unabated.

The Ranas usurped the royal throne
And put a prime minister after the other for 104 years.
104 years of poverty, isolation and medieval existence.

Times have changed.
The Ranas and even the Shahs
Are ghosts of the past.
The Maoists won a military and political battle,
Nepal is a republic,
With Cantons instead of Anchals,
Is Mother Nepal going apart?
The madhisays want a separate Terai,
The parbatays want their share of the cake,
Denied to them since generations,
The Newars, Tamangs, Gurungs, Thakalis,
Sherpas all want their share of power,
The federal idea has served well
In Switzerland and Germany.
Are the Maoists ready for a republican federalism?
Or do they insist on all men and women are equal
But some men and women are more equal
Than the others when it comes to power politics?



About the Author and poet: Satis Shroff is a writer based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) who also writes on ethno-medical, culture-ethnological themes. He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Sozialarbeit in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and Manchester. He is the published author of three books on www.Lulu.com: Im Schatten des Himalaya (book of poems in German), Through Nepalese Eyes (travelgue), Katmandu, Katmandu (poetry and prose anthology by Nepalese authors, edited by Satis Shroff). His lyrical works have been published in literary poetry sites: Slow Trains, International Zeitschrift, World Poetry Society (WPS), New Writing North, Muses Review, The Megaphone, The Megaphone, Pen Himalaya, Interpoetry. Satis Shroff is a member of “Writers of Peace,” poets, essayists, novelists (PEN), World Poetry Society (WPS),The Asian Writer and Boloji.

He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. He is dedicated to promoting and creating awareness for Nepal’s literary heritage and culture in his writings and in preserving Nepal’s identity in Germany. Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize.
]]> Tue, 12 Aug 2008 06:25:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/453557 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/449151 Memoir: IN THE STREETS OF PRAGUE (Satis Shroff)

‘It’s awfully nice to see you in Czech surroundings’ said my long-lost friend Kundan, as he raised his massive, ornate glass of pivo, the famous black Czech beer. That was in 1976 and the Czechs and Slovaks were a single nation. Kunda Dixit was “Our Man Behind the Iron Curtain” and wrote a column in The Rising Nepal named “Prague Prattles.” Kanak might have the gift of the gab, but I’d always enjoyed Kunda’s literary articles during my Katmandu days, when Hippies and Flower Power people were everywhere, mostly to be seen in the high temples and pagodas, stoned with Cannabis sativa, wearing deshi clothes with the word “Ram” printed on them a thousand times.

In Katmandu it was a delight to go to the many psychedelic cafes, where you could drink tea and relish Katmandu’s “special” cake baked with hash. After that, and a round of charas smoking, Katmandu looked different. Fantastic, psychedelic Katmandu, made immortal by Cat Stevens in those days.

The place was U-Thomas, a well known beer tavern in Prague, and seated on a long table were five Nepalese male students and two female Germans. It was good to hear Nepalese being spoken, because over the months I’d had been in Germany, I’d heard only German, French, Spanish or Italian. The joint reminded me of a disco-cellar called ‘Le Caveau’ in Freiburg, a small town in southern Germany, except that there wasn’t any music. However, the din that arose from the tables loaded with loquacious and jolly Czechs would have drowned any type of music, and their presence only heightened the noise.

And who bothers about music, especially when old friends meet in a tavern 9000 km away from the Himalayas. It was one ‘cheers’ and ‘prost’ after another. That’s the wonder of the excellent 13% pivo. They say in Prague beer foamed in the tankards of its citizens long before Columbus discovered America.

When abroad, the Nepalese are always confronted with the question: ‘how do you say ‘cheers’ in your language?’ Which is quite embarrassing, because Nepalese always say ‘pyuno hos!’ (please feel free to drink) or ‘pyunu paryo!’ (let us drink), ‘huncha?’(shall we?) huncha! (we may). The whole affair is carried out non-verbally with a lot of affirmative head shaking from left to right, smiles and the eyebrows taking off like a pair of boomerangs..

The tavern just wasn’t a place where one could do any serious talking because of the general clamour. and we had to contend ourselves with small-talk that passed in the name of conversation. There were a good many interruptions when curious Czechs, high on beer, would stop over at our table and ask us where we came from. One could imagine their curiosity since we looked very different from the usual European foreigners in stature and complexion and, of course, sense of humour, for there we were rollicking with what the Germans call ‘Lebensfreude’ and the French ‘vivre’.

One burly, rosy-cheeked Czech, with a receding forehead, wearing a sailor’s uniform, who had plainly drunk one pivo too much, came every now and then asking for cigarettes. Either there were no cigarette-automats in the tavern or the fellow was broke. When we ignored him, the Czech began to pantomime a Sherpa-porter carrying a load on his back. We didn’t react. After a short while he got bored and left. We also left U-Thomas.

It was winter and there was snow everywhere in the city, and icy gusts of wind blew incessantly, as we walked along the slippery streets of Prague. We boarded the rickety red-coloured state-run tram.

‘That’s the Eiffel Tower of Prague,’ said the jolly Gurung friend, as he pointed to the look-out tower on the Petrin, which formed an impressive background to the grey student hostels, where our Nepalese friends were residing. The amiable Gurung was entertaining the two German ladies in good German, and I noticed that he’d started the conversation with a game of associations: German associations. He mentioned the positive images of Germany: Beckenbauer, Bayern Munich, the VW Beetle (which was still in production at Wolfsburg then), Berlin as a wonderful city, Karel Gott the Czech singer who sings successfully in German, and soon he’d found a tenor which amused the Teutonic ladies. He was doing famously.

I noticed that quite a few Nepalese students had married blonde Czechs and settled down in Prague. There they were, out in the cold, fresh air with their wives and prams, exchanging greetings in Nepali, Newari and Czech languages. The idea appealed to me. Bilingual or multilingual children who visited Czech or Nepalese schools in Czechoslovakia or Nepal. Why not settle down in a foreign country? Or bring your foreign wife or husband home? You could decide where you wanted to live later. There was also the possibility of oscillating between two countries to counter the people who shout “brain-drain!” Or open a travel agency and send Czech tourists on guided trekking tours to the Himalayas? A good many Nepalese students from the Lumumba-Friendship University and Moscow University have brought their Russian spouses along, and they run elite-schools in Katmandu, where the children learn English, Nepal and French. It’s not unusual to see foreign females teaching in Nepalese schools since decades. The number of foreign women married to Nepalese males is rising. And also the number of foreign males taking a Nepalese bride.

On the next day we were invited to a Nepalese lunch: dal-bhat-shikar cooked by one of the brahmin students, and it was delicious. The German ladies Andrea Okewitz and Antonia Trapp relished it. Their only complaint was: ‘Es war scharf!’ (It was hot with chillies). But what’s an Asian meal without chillies? Or sambal olek? Or chutney and achar? Most Germans have a mild taste indeed, and prefer plain boiled potatoes and lot of sauerkraut, in addition to mountains of meat.

While waiting for a bus near the student hostel, I couldn’t resist the temptation of scooping handfuls of snow and confronting the others with snowballs. Soon we had, what the German ladies called a big ‘Schneeballschlacht’ in progress. It had snowed heavily the night before and was awfully chilly.

‘Do you have any samachar (news) from Nepal?’ I asked my pale, bespectacled friend Kundan, who was a brahmin, a high-caste Hindu, and could easily pass off as a European from the north. He’d been home and had mentioned that the policeman at the Pashupatinath hadn’t let him through into the sanctum sanctorum becaus they’d thought he was a foreigner, a “quiray: He Who Has Grey Eyes,” as Nepalese are wont to call westerners. My friend Kundan had reassured the policeman in fluent Nepali but the man had retorted with, ‘A lot of foreign development workers speak better Nepali.’ It was only after Kundan had produced his janai (sacred thread), which most high caste Hindus wear after an elaborate ritual-ceremony, that the policeman waved him past.

“When I left Nepal about two months ago, Nepal was rotting. It was dying. One of those slow painful processes, complete with rattles and groans,” said my long lost friend

‘Was it so dramatic?’ I asked him, for ever since I’d been living in Germany I had only heard of Nepal in the German media when some German expedition had climbed a peak or some crazy yeti-search expedition had thought they’d sighted the abominable snowman.

‘I won’t go through the morbid details and make your life miserable,’ he said with a beneign expression and a twitch of his facial muscles, as he went on to say: “Frankly, I’ve been so anaesthesized by time and instance. I couldn’t express the horrors of contemporary Nepalese life, even if I wanted to. I’m not a pessimist, neither a fatalist, but I don’t see any hope for my beloved motherland. Don’t expect any news coming from that direction to be good news.’

That sounded very pessimistic indeed. Perhaps the Nepalese are survival artists. I couldn’t find another explanation. In the past we have adapted to different dynasties of rulers in Nepal, and in modern times have survived the rule of the arrogant Ranas and the greedy Shahs. And now the republic-minded Maoists under Prachanda. I like to compare politics in Nepal as an eternal game of chess in which the players change after the shuffle of power but the plights of the poor farmer and common man remains miserable all the while. At the moment, the Maoists (tigers) are making the move, but the democratic goats are fighting for the political rights as equaly in the republican parliament. Meanwhile, the Madhesi goats in this political game of bagh-chal (Tiger Move) want to quit the chess board called Nepal and want a pro-Indian state of their own.

‘Just a week ago the Nepalese rupee was devalued 16%. Imagine the plight of an ordinary Nepalese civil servant, who is by comparison much better off than his fellow men financially’, said Kundan.

‘He’ll have to pay 16% on basic commodities like rice and dal. It’s saddening.’

He was right. There was no real democracy in Nepal. The Panchayat System, with its intricate, archaic network of nepotism, corruption and couldn’t-care-less mentality was bleeding the country. The Nepalese intellectuals were playing it safely, and those who cared were living in exile in India in those days. The entire media was controlled by the Palace Secreta­riat, and letters, pleas and petitions to the government for justice went unanswered. If you had connexions in the government or the palace, you could climb the career ladder fast, and if you didn’t have what the simple, honest Nepalese calls “source and force” or “afnu manchey” in the higher echelons of the government and the Narayanhiti palace, you could slave all your life, and still remain in the same job. Now that the king has been ousted and declared a common citizen of Nepal with the previlige of having to pay tax like all mortals, chakari has changed sides and, like in all socialist countries, it helps to have connections in the Maoist-cadre and among the democrats among the Congress and other parties.

A Nepalese king, Prithvi Narayan Shah who was declared the founder of Nepal, had described Nepal as a ‘yam between two big stones’ meaning thereby Tibet (later China) and India. The small country has had a tough time trying to keep a balance between its two gigantic neighbours, who had already fought a Himalaya-war in 1962, which the Chinese had won. After China had annexed Tibet, India did likewise in a­nnexing Goa and Sikkim. And now Nepal was in the news again. There was an article in the French Le Monde datelined New Delhi about the Indo-Nepalese trade and transit agreement which was to expire in August that year (1976).

“The Empress has not forgotten the Nepalese indignation over Sikkim, and demands that Nepal should pay for oil in dollars,’ said my friend. ‘Transit duties have also been raised.’ The word ‘Empress’ was reserved for Indira Gandhi. She was known for her constitutional chicanery and her almost totalitarian Emergency of 1975.

I remember my New Yorker journalist friend Paul Wohl, who used to write for the Christian Science Monitor, quoting from a Parisian newspaper and telling me, ‘On April 2, 1976 Nepal signed a treaty with Bangladesh providing for use of the port of Chittagong for transit shipments to Nepal, but India is taking advantage of the narrow strip of Bengal which separates Bangladesh from Nepal.’ Thus Le Monde.

Whereas the Chinese had their own problems with Tibetans and the implementation of maoistic-ideology, and in maintaining a strict border policy, Nepal’s southern border with India was open for smugglers, tradesmen and border-dwellers from both sides. The government carried out a programme of resettlement of hill tribes in the flatlands, but the recent Madhesi movement which has gained momentum shows a different trend. The Madhesis, as the people of the Terai call themselves (and hill people are called Paharis), have a lot in common with the Indian culture and would like to see themselves integrated with the big neighbour to the south, for Katmandu has ignored them in all those years. Be that as it may, a peaceful compromise has to be found.

After India’s two major border conflicts with Pakistan, and the storming of East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), the Indian armed forces were getting bolder. Nepal and the other Himalayan nations wouldn’t be able to put up much resistance against the newly created mountain-divisions of the Indian Army. The diplomatic and peaceful channel was the call of the hour. And thus King Birendra’s fervent wish to have Nepal declared as ‘a zone of peace’ guaranteed by international treaty’ like Switzerland in Europe, which was recognized by all warring countries as a neutral territory. Even though China, USA and a host of countries supported the proposal, its immediate neighbour Indian didn’t.

India, through an inspired article, put it this way: ‘The pre-condi­tion for an improvement of Indo-Nepalese relations is the unequivocal acceptance that Nepal, which forms an enclave on the Indian side of the Himalayas, must belong to the defence system of the subcontinent.’ Thus Her Gracious Imperial Majesty...’, said Kundan, with bitterness in his voice. There was no doubt that Nepal was India-locked and not only land-locked. Mrs. Gandhi made also insane internal attempts at social discipline of the Indian masses through licensed thuggery and mass sterilisations.

All that was a long time ago. Indira Gandhi, the uncrowned Empress of India, is dead. Rajiv Gandhi has been murdered. (And so is Benazir Bhutto recently). There was democracy and a multiparty-system in Nepal. A congress party, which had operated all those years in exile in India, held the maximum number of seats in the Nepalese parliament in those days, and Indo-Nepal relations were flourishing with new trade and joint ventures, despite the protests from the communist faction that Nepal was selling out to the neighbour from the south. In the Panchayat era, Katmandu’s beggars were rounded up and transported to the south. They turned up two days later after a long return-march along the Tribhuvan Rajpath. This only showed that you can’t drive people away. They wanted their rights. Human rights, which was long ignored in this kingdom of the past.

Then came Katmandu’s ecological-minded mayor, who wanted to drive the hawkers and peddlers away from Asan Tole and Indrachowk, without much of an alternative, apparently because Katmandu has sister-cities in the western world. But will driving away hawkers and beggars alone be a lasting solution to the problems? After all, what is a hawker or a beggar or a leprosy patient? A human being, a Nepalese in search of a better means of existence and medical treatment. Promising a better quality of life to one section of the population at the cost of the other? There are too many unanswered questions still floating in the Himalayan air. Since King Gyanendra has been stripped of his power, but still prefers to pay his ritual homage to the Katmandu Kumari, the Living Goddess, there are some democrats who still want him as their monarch. The Maoists, however, have took a no-nonsense course and have enforced their idea of turning the former kingdom as the republic of Nepal. Instead of the Anchals or zones we have Swiss Cantons now. The disarming and disbanding of the militant Maoist warriors is another social problem in Nepal. Does the new nation need so many ex-Maobadi fighters in the Nepalese Army? Can the former fighters be recruited to work for the development of Nepal in different development projects? The would be in interest of the country for the youth of Nepal need to be given a future and their destructive energy acquired during the decade-long war be, to borrow a Freudean expression, sublimised towards creativity.

We in the west have to wait and see what unfurls in the years to come with curiosity, anguish and interest. Meanwhile, the first thing that my old friend did when he returned to Nepal with a Slovanian degree from Bratislava, was to build a gobar-gas installation for our dear Deviji.l creation. I’m sure Door Bahadur Bista was delighted to see Kundan’s technologic The food was excellent., as usual, but the kitchen smelt a bit of Landluft, as we say in the German-speaking word. It’s a pity Deviji doesn’t cook for lesser mortals. Her cuisine is the best in Patan. I’d even go further---in the whole Kathmandu Valley.

Another dear friend Christa Drigalla who runs the Interplast hospital at Sankhu mentioned that she has also started a new kitchen production for Nepalese moms, this time a German designed one.

]]> Tue, 05 Aug 2008 10:46:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/449151 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/428453
Oh, Kanchenjunga (Satis Shroff)

A splash of the crimson rays of the sun appeared on the tip of the 8598m Kanchenjunga Range. Then it turned into orange and was gradually bathed in a yellowish tint, becoming extremely bright. You could discern the chirping of the Himalayan birds in the surrounding bushes and trees, amidst the clicking of cameras. I was on Tiger Hill. But my thoughts were elsewhere.

I was thinking about Kanchenjunga, my Hausberg as we are wont to call it in Germany, and the former memories of my school-days in the foothills of the Himalayas. These mountains had moulded and shaped me to overcome odds, like other thousands of other Gorkhalis, Nepalese, Lepchas, Bhutanese, Tibetans and Indians, from both sides of the Himalayas. I have watched the Kanchenjunga ever since I was a child in its different moods and seasonal changes. Cloud-watching over the Kanchenjunga was always a fascinating pastime whether from Ilam, Sikkim or Darjeeling´s Tiger Hill or even Sandakphu. To the Sikkimese the Kanchenjunga has always been a sacred mountain, and on its feet are precious stones, salt, holy sciptures, healing plants and cereals. It is a thousand year belief and tradition that the Himalayas, the abode of the Gods, should not be sullied by the feet of mortals.

Oh Kanchenjunga, you have taught us Gorkhalis and Nepalis to keep a stiff upper-lip in the face of adversity created by humans in this world and to light a candle, rather than to curse the darkness. To adapt, share and assimilate, rather than go under when the going gets tough in foreign shores. The Himalayas have taught us to be resilient and to bear pain without complaining, to search for solutions and to keep our ideals high, and not to forget our rich culture, tradition and religious beliefs.

After a brisk drive through pine-forested areas and blue mountains, I was rewarded by a vision of the Kanchenjunga Massif in all its majesty. At Ghoom, which is the highest point along the Hill Cart road, we went to the 19th century Buddhist monastery, about 8km from Darjeeling. In the massive, pompous pagoda-like building with a yellow rooftop, was a shrine of the Maitree Buddha, with butter lamps and Buddhist scarves in gaudy scarlet, white and gold.

It´s was a feast for the eyes. Tibetan art in exile. You go through the rooms of the museum which has precious Buddhist literature, traditional Himalayan ritual masks and a numismatic collection in the centre of the room, with coins and currency from Tibet that were in circulation till 1959. A small friendly lama-apprentice posed for a photograph of the tourists. And another little Buddha,with jet-black hair, suddenly came up, behind a mask of a Tibetan demon with ferocious-looking teeth, and sprang in front of us to get photographed for posterity.

A blue coloured Darjeeling Himalayan train built in 1881 by Sharp, Steward Co, Glasgow, chugged along on its way to Kurseong (Khar-sang), another hill station along the route from Darjeeling to Siliguri in the plains of India. There were young Gorkhali boys from Ghoom, having a jolly time, jumping in and out of the running toy-train, with the conductor shouting at them and doing likewise, and trying to nab one of them. But the Ghoom boys were far better and faster than the ageing, panting train-conductor, whose tongue almost hanged out of his red face. It was a jolly tamasha indeed. A spectacle for the passengers amidst the breath-taking scenery in tea-country.

I thought about my friend Harka, who used to live in Ghoom, and who was one of those boys during my school-days. The last I heard of him was when he and his dear wife invited yours truly and a student friend named Tekendra Karki, now a physician in Katmandu, to have excellent Ilam tea with Soaltee Oberoi sandwiches. Tek and I were doing our BSc then at Tri Chandra college in Katmandu.

Along the side of the mini railway track, reminiscent of the Schwabian Eisenbahn from Biberach , were groups of vendors of Tibetan origin selling used clothes, trinkets, belts, bags and most other accessoirs that you find being sold along the Laden La road, leading to Chowrasta in Darjeeling.

A short drive to the Batasia loop, where the blue train made a couple of loops during its descent to Darjeeling, and suddenly you saw the clouds above the silvery massif, rising languidly in the morning.

The families of the British officers used to retreat to the hills of Darjeeling, Simla, Naini Tal to escape from the scorching heat of the India summer, and carried out their social lives and sport under the shadow of the Himalayas. Cricket, polo, pony-riding,soccer. You can still go to the Gymkhana and do roller-skating, try out a Planter's Punch and, of course, a First Flush or dust Darjeeling tea to suit your pocket. The Chogyal of Sikkim gave the hill-station Darjeeling to the British as a gesture of Friendship, for the Sikkimese fought with the British troops against the Nepalese in the Anglo-Nepalese Wat (1814-15). The British government thanked the Chogyal of Sikkim and rewarded him with a handsome annual British pension.Didn't he become a vassal of Great Britian after this act?

I went with my burly Gorkha school-friend to Dow Hill via Kurseong, past the Tuberculosis sanatorium, in a World War II vintage jeep driven by a Gorkha named Norden Lama, who had blood-shot eyes and a whiff of raksi. There´s no promillen control (alcohol-on-wheels) in Darjeeling, and in the cold winter and rainy monsoon months it isn´t unusual to find jeep and truck-drivers stopping to take a swig of raksi, one for the road, to keep themselves warm. I must admit, I felt relieved when we reached our destination in one piece.

Driving along the left track of the autobahn at 150 km per hour is safe compared to all the curves that one has to negotiate along the Darjeeling trail on misty days. We were rewarded with excellent ethnic Rai-cuisine comprising dal-bhat-shikar cooked with coriander, cumin, salt, chillies, garlic, ginger and love. My school friend who´s a Chettri, a high caste Hindu, known for the ritual purity and pollution thinking, had married a Rai lady, much to the chagrin of his parents, but unlike Amber Gurung´s sad song "Ma amber huh, timi dharti," they were extremely happy and had come together after the principle: where there´s a will, there´s a way. Or "miya bibi raaji, to kya kareyga kaji."

As is the custom among Gorkhalis, we ritually washed our hands, sat down cross-legged, put a little food symbolically for the Gods and Goddesses, and relished our meal without talking. Talking during meals is bad manners in the Land of the Gorkhas, Nepal and the diaspora where the Gorkhalis and Nepalese live.Gorkhaland is a dream of people who cam from Nepal through migration to the British tea gardens, roads and toy-train workshops in Tindharia, and since the roads have gained importance after the British left and in the aftermath of the Indo-Chinese conflict in 1962, there was a need for the roads to be repaired by the Indian government and what better workers to hire in the foothills of the Himalayas than the sturdy, willing helpers of Nepalese origin who have lived in the area since generations.

Just as the government of Nepal under King Mahendra and Birendra carried out resettlement programms for the hill people who were eternally foraging for work in the plains (Terai) and India, the Bengal government did the same through its bureaucratic rules of transferring the Nepalese of Darjeeling district who had worked in the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway to the plains at Katihar and other places. It was a difficult transfer for the Gorkhalis, and they not only had to battle with the beastly and scorching sun of the the Indian plains but also had to learn to communicate in Hindi, Bihari, Bengali and English with the arrogant Bengalis. On the other hand, the Bengali babus started coming in teeming numbers to the hills of Darjeeling fleeing from the plains of Calcutta, and delighted at the prospects of living in the hills of Darjeeling, Kurseong and Kalimpong with perks and enjoying the fresh air and Nature, especially Kanchanjunga. The mountain took a new meaning for the Bengalis and Satyajit Ray was inspired to produce and direct a film with the title Kanchenjunga. It became „Amar Kanchanjunga" for the Bengalis.And thereby hangs a tale.]]> Fri, 18 Jul 2008 09:00:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/428453 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/401171 Applied Ethnotherapy 2008 in Munich, Germany(Satis Shroff)

Blurb:Satis Shroff introduces you to the world of Ethnomedical therapies that are used by Practitioners of Traditional Medicine, and the seminar to go with these therapies in Munich, Germany. The Ethnomed therapy sessions are a regular affair organised by the Universities of Heidelberg and Munich.Traditional Medicine should go hand in hand with Modern Medicine. The Health Insurance organisations and medical school authorities have yet to recognize this form of alternative, traditional medicine,which is based on Nature and so-called supernatural phenomenons.

Die Ethnomedizin wird auch in diesem Jahr wieder in München ein Forum haben. Dass die Ethnomedizin/Ethnotherapien in Heilungs- und Gesundheitsprozesse von Menschen verstärkt in die sogenannten klassischen Behandlungsmethoden integriert werden und Eingang finden müssen wissen wir längst.
Die Chancen, die sich für das gesamte Gesundheitssystem ergeben können, wenn die seelische, psychische und auch spirituellen Ebenen von Menschen im Heilungs- und Gesundheitsprozess integriert werden sind unübersehbar.
Trotzdem haben die ethnotherapeutischen Methoden, Behandlungsformen und Rituale nicht den Stellenwert, der ihnen und ihrer Bedeutung entsprechen würde. It would be necessary to work towards this end and to make the concerned authorities change their attitude towards this end.

Dass der Schwerpunkt in diesem Jahr auf den angewandten Ethnotherapien liegt, ist sehr spannend und bietet wieder einmal die Chance, die Potentiale der Ethnotherapien zu erkennen. Ich wünsche allen Teilnehmerinnen und Teilnehmer der Fortbildung Ethnotherapien viel Spaß und viele gute und interessante Begegnungen, Erkenntnisse und Erlebnisse und den OrganisatorInnen viel Erfolg für das Seminar.
Lydia Dietrich
Stadträtin München

Rabia Schirrmann und Pragya Sabine Erlei (Körpertherapeutinnen, Tibetan Pulsing Yoga, D.) vermitteln das Tibetan Pulsing Yoga, eine Bewusstseins- und Heilarbeit, die Körper, Emotionen und Gedanken miteinander in Einklang bringt. Diese Methode hat ihre Wurzeln in den tantrischen Klöstern Tibets als auch in den taoistischen Klöstern Chinas.

INTENSIV-PRAXIS-SEMINAR 9.-12. OKTOBER 2008
FORTBILDUNG  ETHNOTHERAPIEN
Wissen – Erkennen – Heilen
in der Universität München und im Eibenwald Paterzell
9.-12. Oktober 2008 Times
ETHNOMED Institut für Ethnomedizin e.V.

ETHNOTHERAPIEN – HEILVERFAHREN DIESER WELT
Seit Jahrtausenden sind das Verstehen der Sprache der Natur und die Kommunikation mit der „anderen Welt“ das Geheimnis alten Heilwissens. Lassen Sie uns in drei Tagen die Grenzen des „normalen“ Erlebens überschreiten und neue Dimensionen heilerischen Schaffens ergründen.

Erleben Sie in dieser praxisnahen Fortbildung intensiv das Wirken von Heilern aus Peru, Mexiko, Kasachstan und unserer eigenen Kultur. Wir laden Sie ein, die vorgestellten Methoden selbst zu beobachten, zu erfragen und zu üben. Diese reichen von handfesten chiropraktischen  Anwendungen der Mochica, einer Prä-Inka-Kultur, über archaische Heilrituale bis hin zum Aufspüren der spirituellen Wurzeln einer jeden Krankheit.

Mitten im Naturschutzgebiet des Paterzeller Eibenwaldes erfahren Sie das Orakeln und „Raunen“ der Runen, hören das Wispern der Pflanzengeister und erforschen die Botschaften aus Ihren eigenen inneren Tiefen. T

Die Eibe war in der germanischen und keltischen Kultur ein heiliger und mächtiger Baum, im alten Ägypten wurde sie mit dem Jenseits verbunden und war ein Begleiter ins Totenreich. In der modernen Medizin erhofft man sich, aus der Eibe Wirkstoffe für die Krebstherapie zu gewinnen. Die Eibe erneuert sich immer wieder selbst. Daher steht sie im Volksglauben für ewiges Leben, für Tod und Wiedergeburt. Für Magier, Druiden, Ärzte früherer Zeiten, Seher und Heiler war sie Helfer und Begleiter. 

PROGRAMM

DONNERSTAG 9.10.2008
19.00 Uhr bis ca.21.00 Uhr
Abendvorträge der Referenten und Heiler in der Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München, Pettenkoferstr. 11

FREITAG 10.10.2008 BIS SONNTAG 12.10.2008
GenevaIntensiv-Praxis-Fortbildung im Paterzeller Eibenwald
Ende: Sonntag ca. 17.30 Uhr

INTENSIV-PRAXIS-FORTBILDUNG 2008Times
Referenten (alphabetisch)

Maria-Elisabeth, Medium, Deutschland
Jede Krankheit basiert auf Ursachen, die im Feinstofflichen zu suchen sind oder spirituelle Auslöser haben. Fast alle Heiltraditionen ursprünglicher Völker kennen Trancezustände um Krankheitsursachen zu kennen. Der Heiler oder Schamane stellt dabei eine besondere  Verbindung zum Kranken her und kann damit intuitiv den Auslöser oder  den Anlass der Erkrankung finden und Impulse zur Heilung geben. Noch einen Schritt weiter geht der schamanische Röntgenblick. Dabei geht das Medium in einem veränderten Bewusstseinszustand mit einem speziell geschulten Blick durch alle Ebenen des Körpers und sieht
dabei den Zustand der Organe und Körperregionen. Es zeigt sich dabei auch die ganz konkrete physische Beschaffenheit. Eine feinere Wahrnehmung ist bereits bei vielen Menschen vorhanden und kann geschult und geübt werden. In der Fortbildung führt Maria-Elisabeth in das Thema und ihre Arbeitsweise ein. Persönliche Fragen sind  möglich. Ziel der Übungen ist die Erweiterung der Wahrnehmungsfähigkeit und die Hinführung an die medialen Fähigkeiten Teilnehmer. Einzigartig ist dabei die praktische Selbsterfahrung  
als auch die hellsichtige mediale Begleitung bei den Übungen.
 
Spirituelle Wahrheiten werden hier lebendig und können direkt selbst  erfahren und im Gespräch nachvollzogen werden. Maria-Elisabeth  praktiziert ihre Arbeit als Medium seit vielen Jahren, erläutert und  demonstriert ihre Techniken in der praktischen Anwendung und bringt dabei die Teilnehmer an die eigenen intuitiven heilerischen Fähigkeiten.

Hardy Hoffmann, Runen- und Meditationsexperte, Deutschland
Die Druiden wirkten in früheren Zeiten mit den Heilströmen der Runen, durch die sie zu innerer Kraft kamen, Reinigungen vornahmen oder auf Krankheiten einwirkten, mental und physisch. Runen sind universelle Kraftsymbole der Nordmeervölker. In unserer Heimat wurden Runen seit uralten Zeiten eingesetzt, um das Wissen um die Kräfte der Natur zu erlangen und sie leicht im Alltag zu nutzen. Mit Abschluss in der Transzendentalen Meditation T.M. und Studienreisen nach Indien, SO-Asien und Australien spezialisierte sich Hardy Hoffmann auf die Techniken der Natur-Religionen der alten Nordmeervölker Europas. Er ist heute führende Größe im Bereich der Runen-Magie und vermittelt ihre Fertigkeit in Verbindung mit Schulung der Intuition und dem Erkennen der Vorsehung. Mit diesen Fertigkeiten üben wir das Aufspüren von Energiefeldern, das Aufnehmen von energetischen Strömen und die praktische Anwendung der Erdkraftfelder. So werden Sie in diesen Tagen Ihre persönliche Rune finden und die Kräfte der Natur und ihrer Wesenheiten in und um sich spüren, sowie viel Wissenswertes über die Kräfte der Natur entdecken. Dieses uralte Wissen soll hier zu neuem Leben erweckt werden.

Kokopelli, Traditioneller Tänzer der Azteken Anthropologe, Mexiko
Jorge A. Kokopelli Guadarrama, Sohn von Nopaltzin, wurde früh von seiner Familie getrennt um die aztekischen Traditionen zu lernen. An der National School of Anthropology and History studierte er
Anthropologie. Aus persönlicher Überzeugung setzt er sich dafür ein, die Wurzeln seiner Kultur zu vermitteln, damit die Welt einen Teil dieser wunderbaren Tradition kennen lernt. Die Azteken, auch Mexicas genannt, waren eines der bedeutendsten Völker im präkolumbianischen Mexiko. Kokopelli zeigt in diesen Tagen die bis heute lebendigen Rituale seines Volkes. Es werden Mythologien weitergegeben über das indigene, spirituelle Erbe der Azteken sowie Visionen des Volkes über die Zukunft in unserer modernen Welt. 
Rituale zur Reinigung des Energiekörpers oder der Aurareinigung nehmen einen besonderen Stellenwert ein. Mit aztekischen Rhythmen und dem Klang der Medizintrommel werden Reisen in andere Bewusstseinszustände unternommen, um den Energiekörper zu reinigen und die täglichen Blockaden zu lösen. Mit einem speziellen Ritual –Gebet zur Erde -  ruft man nach aztekischer Vorstellung Energie aus  
dem Kosmos, die Krankheiten heilt, Gebete oder Danksagungen übermittelt oder Antworten auf wichtige Fragen gibt. Es ist ein lebendiges Gebet an die Erde, uns zur universellen Größe des Seins zu  erheben. Eigene Trommeln können mitgebracht werden.

Laura Pacheco, Heilerin, Peru
Laura Pacheco hatte in jungen Jahren einen schlimmen Verkehrsunfall mit Knochenbrüchen, Lähmungserscheinungen und Nervenausfällen. Verletzungen im Gehirn bedrohten ihr Leben, die Schulmedizin war machtlos. Nach langer Suche fand sie einen erfahrenen alten Heiler der Mochica, einer prä-inka-Kultur Perus. Er behandelte sie, und Laura Pacheca genas in kurzer Zeit vollkommen und konnte Sport und Studium wieder aufnehmen. Sie bat den Heiler inständig, ihr dieses Wissen zu vermitteln, doch er weigerte sich zunächst, die alte und bisher geheime Tradition seiner Vorfahren weiterzugeben. Schließlich
gab er Lauras drängenden Bitten nach, und es folgten viele Jahre des intensiven Lernens und Praktizierens. Der Lehrer sprach nicht über sein Wissen, er schulte Laura durch Fühlen, Beobachten und Anwenden.  Ihr Meister starb 2006 und hinterließ nur Laura sein einzigartiges Erbe. Laura Pacheco nimmt die große Verantwortung zur Heilung der Menschen in der Welt wahr und möchte diese alte, sehr effektive Heilmethode gerne an engagierte und interessierte Menschen weitergeben.

Saira Serikbajewa, Heilerin, Kasachstan und  Maria Gavrilenko, Professorin für Sprachen, Kasachstan
Saira Serikbajewa steht seit früher Kindheit mit der traditionellen Medizin ihres Volkes in Verbindung und arbeitet seit 20 Jahren als Schamanin. Die Kasachen sind von je her ein Volk der Nomaden, das seit Urzeiten eine Vielfalt von Heilverfahren aus der Natur entwickelt hat und durch die medizinische Erfahrung anderer Völker Zentralasiens, Chinas, Indiens und des arabischen Orients ergänzte. Die Therapie, die Saira und Maria demonstrieren werden, ist die Wachstherapie. Diese Therapie kann jeder anwenden, verstehen können sie jedoch nur die "Feuer-, Wasser-, Luft- und Erdmagier",diejenigen, denen sich durch ihr langjähriges Praktizieren die Sprache  der Natur offenbart hat. Der Therapie liegen die Eigenschaften des Bienenwachses zugrunde. Durch diese Therapie kann man Menschen, Tieren, Pflanzen und sogar Autos oder Häusern helfen. indem man bei der Behandlung  die Kraft des Feuers und des Wassers anspricht und in die Therapie mit  einbezieht. Jegliches Problem kann gelöst, Betrug aus Licht gebracht werden, Magie, Hexerei und böser Blick verlieren ihre Macht. kann eingeleitet werden., Hilfe vermittelt, das Leben zu meistern, den Weg zu öffnen, frei zu machen,  manchmal sogar auch das Leben retten. Die Wachstherapie kann niemandem schaden, sie kann nur helfen. Die Biene - die Mutter vom  Wachs, findet in der Blume nur den Nektar, die Spinne jedoch nur das Gift. Das ist die gute Eigenschaft der Biene - das Böse zu übergehen, das Gute vom Bösen trennen zu können, die Wahrheit von der Unwahrheit zu unterscheiden. Diese alte Heilweise, von uns tiefgründig studiert und  vervollkommnet, hilft uns, den Patienten zu reinigen und zu heilen: auf der physischen, emotionalen, mentalen und geistigen Ebene.

Dr. Wolf Dieter Storl, Ethnobotaniker, Schamanenforscher, Deutschland
Die indigenen Wurzeln der europäischen Heilpflanzenkunde. Die indigenen Völker nördlich der Alpen, die  Germanen, Slawen und vor allem die Kelten, prägen Aspekte der Volksmedizin  bis zum heutigen Tag. Nicht nur wurde im ländlichen Raum das Wissen um die endemischen Kräuter - darunter auch die Archäophyten, die mit den ersten Bauern kamen - überliefert, sondern auch verschiedene Sammel-  aund  Ausgrabrituale, sowie Rituale der Zubereitung und der Einnahme. Träger dieser „kleinen“Tradition waren vor allem die Frauen. Dieses indigene Heilsystem war in einem archaischen Weltbild eingebettet, das sich erheblich von der kulturellen Matrix  der „großen“ Tradition der offiziellen Kloster-,  Apotheker- und  Ärztemedizin, unterschied. In diesem Seminar wollen wir etwas über diese Heilkunde erfahren, indem wir, während einer Exkursion in freier Natur, endemische Pflanzen im ethnomedizinischen Kontext vorstellen.

INTENSIV-PRAXIS-FORTBILDUNG 2008

Orte: 
9.10.2008: Vortragsabend in der Universität München, Pettenkoferstr. 11
10.-12.10.08: Intensiv-Praxis-Fortbildung, Seminarhaus Eibenwald, nahe München (Anfahrtsbeschreibung und Unterkunftsmöglichkeiten werden mit der Anmeldebestätigung verschickt)
Zeiten:
Do. 9.10.08: 19-21 Uhr 
Fr. 10.10.08: 9-19 Uhr 
Sa. 11.10.08: 9-19 Uhr
So. 12.10.08: 9-17.30 Uhr

Hinweis: Traditionelle Heiler und Referenten anderer Kulturen denken oft nicht in unseren westlichen Strukturen. Wir bitten deshalb verständnisvoll und flexibel mit sich verändernden Programminhalten und Zeitplänen umzugehen. Unerwartetes und Überraschendes ist erfahrungsgemäß im Bereich der Ethnomedizin unausweichlich.

Anmeldung bitte schicken/faxen an  +49-89-40 90 81 29
ETHNOMED e.V. • Melusinenstr. 2 • D-81671 München
]]> Thu, 03 Jul 2008 05:38:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/401171 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/394715
ADIEU ROYAL FAMILY IN NEPAL (Satis Shroff)


König Birendra fragte mich: "Gefällt es Ihnen hier?"

Ich war so überwältigt von der neue, einmalige Situation, daß ich gar nicht wußte, ob ich in Nepali oder in Englisch reden sollte. Ich neigte mich ein bißchen und machte eine Namaste. Eine Namaste bedeutet eigentlich "Ich begrüße das göttliche in Dir", denn in Hinduismus glaubt man, daß in jeder Mensch etwas göttliches beiwohnt. Aber vor mir stand ein König der meine Schule besucht hatte, in Eton und Havard gewesen war, und für 23 Millionen Nepalis als die Reinkarnation der Hindu-Gottheit Vishnu verkörperte.

Ich antwortete: "Ich bin vor einigen Jahren gekommen und mir gefällt es sehr hier, weil ich in der Schwarzwald mit eine Schwarzwald Mädel lebe und es ist genau so schön wie in Nepal. Mit fehlen bloß die Himalayagipfeln."

Ich erzählte auf Englisch, daß ich mit Prinz Dhirendra in St. Josephs zur Schule gegangen war.

"Oh, St. Joseph's? War Pater Stanford noch in der Schule?"

"Jawohl, Your Majesty, und Pater Burns und Mr. Bannerjee." Mr. Bannerjee war ein indische Rektor mit Fulbright (USA) Erfahrung und die anderen waren Jesuitenpriester, die eine Eliteschule leiteten.

Seine Majestät lachte herzlich und fragte: "Kahile pharkaney? Wann kehren sie zurück?"

Ich war verlegen und sagte: "Das weiß ich nicht." Ich habe damals nicht gewußt, daß ich eine Zähringerin heiraten wurde und vier bezaubernde Kinder haben wurde. Nun bin ich in Freiburg geblieben und schreibe nach und über Nepal und mache Nepal-Watch durch das Internet, denn ich interessiere mich immer noch sehr für die gesellschaftspolitische und wirtschaftliche Entwicklung Nepals, und vor allem Nepals literarische Szene. Demnächst bringe ich ein Buch über die Lyrik und Kurzgeschichten Nepals bei Horlemann Verlag (Bad Unken) heraus, weil ich gute Beziehungen in der literarische Szene Kathmandus habe. Ja, man kann mich als ein Dozent mit eine literarische Flair für Englisch, Nepali und Deutsche Literatur nennen.

Starb mit König Birendra auch die Hoffnung?

Die Nachricht, daß es ein Blutbad gegeben hat im Narayanhiti-Palast von Kathmandu und daß der Krönprinz Dipendra seine Eltern König Birendra und Königin Aishwarya und andere Familien Mitgliedern, war ein Schock für mich. Ich konnte es nicht fassen.

Daß es Dissidenten in Nepal gibt und daß die maoistische Guerillaorganisationen sehr militant und aktiv sind im westlichen Teil Nepals war mir schon bekannt. Aber daß der Kronprinz sein Vater König Birendra Bir Bikram Shahdev 55 und seine Mutter Aishwarya Laxmi Devi Shah geboren Rana (51), Bruder Niranjan (22) und Schwester Shruti (24), ein Schwager sowie eine Cousine des Königs, erschossen hat war unglaublich. Dies in einem Land, wo Buddha geboren war (Lumbini) und wo Frieden und friedliche Koexistenz, sowohl in Nepals Außen- und Innenpolitik groß geschrieben ist.

Was bedeutete König Birendra für Nepal?

Birendra Bir Bikram Shahdev, wie der König von Nepal genannt wurde, hatte seine Schuljahren in St. Josephs (Darjeeling) verbracht und danach ging er nach Eton College (England) und war auch ein Jahr in Havard als Gasthörer. Von den 23 Millionen Einwohnern Nepals sind 90 Prozent Hindus und der König von Nepal wurde, seitdem der Gurkha König Prithvi Narayan Shah das Kathmandutal mit List erobert hatte im Jahr 1768 als der Reinkarnation von Vishnu, der Hauptgott in Hinduismus, verehrt. Nepal ist das einzige Land mit Hinduismus als Staatsreligion.

In Nepals chaotische, unsichere politische Landschaft, wo es ständige Regierungswechsel gibt, hat man gesehen, daß die Regierung von Nepal unter Girija Prasad Koirala (Kongresspartei) der maoistischen Rebellion im Westen des Landes nicht Herr werden kann. Seine Idee, als Sozialdemokrat, die Maoisten mit einer 15 000 Mann Eliteeinheit zu bekämpfen, ist ein Schritt in der falsche Richtung. Probleme wie Armut, Mißwirtschaft, Korruption und Vetterwirtschaft kann man nicht, wie es in der Vergangenheit ohne Erfolg gemacht war, mit Gewalt und Macht gelöst werden.

Meine Erinnerungen an König Birendra und Königin Aishwarya?

Ich habe gute Erinnerungen an den König und Königin. Ich bin von der Nepali Botschafter Singa Pratap Malla in Bonn zu einem Empfang für den König und Königin von Nepal in La Redoute eingeladen worden. Ich habe ein Blumenstrauß an der Freiburger Kaiser-Joseph-Straße besorgt und als ich aufgeregt zu der Verkäuferin sagte, daß die Blumen für eine Königin seien, hat sie geschmunzelt und fragte: "Ach, wirklich?"

Ich habe ihr erklärt, daß sie tatsächlich für die Königin von Nepal waren, die zu einem Staatsbesuch nach Deutschland gekommen war mit dem König von Nepal. In Bonn waren die Straßen mit Deutsche und Nepali Fahnen geschmückt. Ich habe eine Taxi genommen am Bahnhof und der Taxifahrer, ein Bonner mit Humor erklärte mir, daß es ihm Spaß machen wurde, die weiße Mäuse vor den VIP Autos zu sehen.

In La Redoute waren schon Journalisten and der Tür, und ich ging hinein und begegnete eine ganze Menge Nepali Damen und Herren. Die Damen trugen bunte, elegante Saris und die Männer in Anzüge. Woher kamen all diese Landsleute?" fragte ich mich damals. Ich hatte die Nepali Botschaftsangestellte und ein paar Studenten und natürlich der Bundespräsident Richard von Weizsäcker und seine Frau Marianne, Deutsche Diplomaten und andere Gäste erwartet. Ich fragte ein Mann in Nepali, der smart gekleidet war und aussah, wie ein Rai- Stammesangehörige. Meine Vermutung war richtig. Es war ein Rai und er erklärte, daß er und die anderen Nepalis alle Britische Gurkhas von der Rheinarmee und deren Frauen waren. Ah, Britisch Gurkhas die in den Falklands auch eingesetzt worden waren gegen den Argentenier.

Plötzlich kam ein Deutsche Polizeioffizier, begrüßte mich freundlich und stand neben mir. Es stellte sich heraus, daß er der Polizeikommissar war und sagte zu mir, daß er häufig bei solche Empfänge dabei war. Er zeigte mir ein bekannter Bonnerfotograf, der nie ein Blitzgerät benutzte. Sein Geheimnis? Er nahm nur Filme mit Höhe ASA oder DIN Werte. Der Oberkommissar zeigte mir eine Interessante alte Dame, die einen sympathischen Eindruck machte. Von ihrem Aussehen, konnte sie eine Adelige sein mit einem 'von Titel' und von der Kleidung her ein bisschen altmodisch aber passend zu ihrem alter, denn sie sah mindestens über 60 aus.

"Ist sie ein VIPs Frau?" fragte ich.

"Nein, nein, Sie werden staunen. Sie ist nur eine einfache Rentnerin, aber sie ist bei jedem Empfang in verschiedene Botschaften dabei," sagte der Oberkommissar. Später erfuhr ich, in eine Fernsehsendung, daß King Birendra sie sogar mit "Frau Baronin" begrüßt hatte, als die Büffet geöffnet wurde."

Mein Herz pochte als die königliche Paar endlich hineinkamen. König Birendra sah wohlauf aus und die Königin Aishwarya trug weiße Handschuhe, ihre schwarz-blau glänzende Haare gesteckt/versteckt in einem Netz, und sie trug eine blaue Bluse und ebenfalls blaue Chiffon Sari. Sie war eine Erscheinung und ich habe ihr die Blumen überreicht. Sie sagte eine leise, schüchterne: "Dhanyabad, thank you" und danach gab sie meine Freiburger Blumen an den Aide-du-Corps, ein gewisser Captain Khatri Chettri. Unter den Nepali Journalisten die mit der königliche Entourage gekommen waren auch Gauri KC, die immer Freitags meine Kommentare in Radio Nepal gelesen hatte und Shyam KC, der für die Reportagen in Kathmandu zuständig war. Er arbeitet jetzt für die Kathmandu Post. Chiran Samsher war auch dabei, der königliche Palastsekretär.

Nachdem die Büffet eröffnet war, gingen wir alle zu einem großen Saal. Es gab sogar echte französische Champagne, serviert von wunderschöne Fräuleins. Eine Deutsche Korrespondentin hat einmal über Nepal geschrieben: "Entwicklung und Fortschritt sind Fremdworte in diesem hoffnungslos rückständigen Land, das nach wie vor zu den ärmsten der Welt gehört." Aber solche Wörter waren fehl am Platz an diesem Abend.

Nach eine Weile, wurde die Stimmung besser und lockerer, wie es bei Empfänge ist, und während Königin Aishwarya sich ruhte nach der anstrengenden Bonner Tagesprogramm, mischte sich König Birendra unter das Volk bzw. die Gäste. Er begrüßte jeden und als er lächelnd auf mich zukam, wußte ich nicht ob ich ein Bild knipsen sollte oder Seiner Majestät begrüßen sollte. Ich kannte seiner dritter Bruder Prinz Dhirendra, da wir beide in der gleiche St. Josephsschule in Darjeeling unsere Abitur gemacht hatten. Prinz Dhirendra verlor seinen adeligen Titel, weil eine ausländerin heiratete und lebte in London in Exil. Bei der Schießerei wurde auch er verletzt.


Manchmal denke ich, ein bißchen Phenomenologie, die Fähigkeit die Sichtweise von beiden Seiten zu sehen, und Familientherapie hätte sowohl die englische als auch die Nepali Königshäuser nicht geschadet. Auf jedenfall wäre es nicht zu solche Gewaltakten nicht gekommen. Aber die uralte hinduistische Strukturen in den Köpfen von Eltern in der Nepali Gesellschaft macht es unmöglich die Sachlage mit eine andere Sichtweise zu betrachten.

In Nepal wollte der Index-Person Prinz Dipendra eine Frau heiraten, die er liebte. Seine Herzensdame hieß Devyani Rana (29), eine Rana-adelige mit indisches Blut aber seine Mutter Königin Aishwarya, die immer als herrisch und stur galt, lehnte die Heiratspläne ab. Es gab keine entgegenkommen und die Konflikt zwischen Prinz Dipendra und seine Mutter bzw. Eltern eskalierte so sehr, daß er nur die Waffe als eine Endlösung sah. Da wurde die humanistische Erziehung von Nepals Budanilkantha Schule und Englands Eton und USAs Havard über den Haufen geworfen, weil solche Gedanken in Nepals Palastwände, Gesellschaft und Machtstruktur fremd waren. In der Narayanhiti-Palast herrschten die Ansichten von Königin Aishwarya, die alles andere als humanistisch war in ihre Denkweise. Sie war für die altmodische hinduistische Machterhalt in der Palast und im Königreich.

Prinz Dipendra lebte in eine zwiespaltige, ambivalente Welt. Wenn er, wie sein Vater Birendra, gekrönt worden wäre, dann wäre er wieder von den meisten Nepali Landleute nicht nur als ein konstitutionelle Monarch, sondern auch als eine Reinkarnation von dem Hindugott Vishnu verehrt.

In Nepal ist es nun so, daß die Eltern bestimmen wollen, wer mit wem heiratet. Ich erinnere mich, daß nur wenige Nepali Schul- und Uni-Freunde von mir eine Liebesheirat durchgesetzt haben. Die meisten Menschen in heiratsfähigenalter lassen sich einheiraten, weil es alte, vedische Tradition in Nepal ist, daß man den Eltern ehrt und folgt.

Die Verwundbarkeit: Mit seiner Kurzschlußhandlung hat Prinz Dipendra nicht nur seine Eltern ausgelöscht, sondern auch ein reinkarnierter Hindugott. Generationen von Nepali Kinder werden sich die Fragen stellen: "Ist denn Vishnu doch verwundbar, genauso wie die lebende Göttin Kumari, die sich abdanken muss, sobald sie ihre Menstruationsblutungen bekommt oder durch eine Verletzung verblutet. Denn eine Göttin darf nicht bluten. Der König von Nepal hat auch geblutet als er von seinem Sohn erschossen wurde.

Raktakunda" bedeutet ein Blutlaken, wurde von dem Nepali journalist Krishna Bhattarai geschrieben, der den Pseudonym 'Abiral' trägt, was 'fortschreitend' bedeutet. Ein Schachspiel namens 'Baghchal' (Tigertaktik) wurde im Himalaya von der damaligen chinesischen Regierung gestartet, wobei China die Autonome Region von Tibet annektierte, denn nach chinesische Meinung waren die Himalayastaaten Sikkim, Bhutan, Ladakh die Phalanx von China. Chinas territorial Wahn ging so weit, dass 1962 ein Krieg im Himalaya mit India angezettelt wurde.

Nachdem Indien seine Unabhängigkeit von der britischen Raj errungen hatte, fnng an Indien seine Territorium zu konsolidieren, denn einige Teile waren noch in kolonial Hände z.B. Goa ein ehemalige portugesische Kolonie und Pondicherry (Frankreich) und der Nizam von Hyderabad ein dickköpfiger Herrscher, der von den indischen Union nicht verschlückt werden wollte. 1962 war eine bittere und traumatische Erlebnis für Indien, was dazu führte, dass Indien anfing Gebirgskampdivisionen für die indischen Armee zu trainieren und die alte vernachlässigte Strassen die zu den strategischen Punkten in Ladakh, Sikkims Nathu La, Bomdilla und anderswo im Himalaya führten fahrtaugnich zu machen.

Indien lies seiner Nachbarstaaten (Sikkim, Bhutan, Nepal) im norden seine heranwachsende militärische Stärke immer wieder spüren. Indien wollte Stalilität im Norden des Subkontinents und die exil Nepalis von Sikkim machten es einfach für die indische Regierung, da in einem demokratischen Wahl in Sikkim waren die Nepalis in überzahl, und die Ursprunglichen Einwohner Sikkims, die Lepchas, waren in der Minderheit. Obwohl der Chogyal von Sikkim mit eine US Amerikanerin verheiratet war, konnte dies die US Lobby nicht mobilisieren, weder in der diplomatischen, noch auf der politischen Front. Bhutan müsste seine Außenverteidigung an Delhi übertragen und die Befreiung von Ost Pakistan, den heutigen Bangladesh (Das Land der Bengalis) von den West Pakistanischen Militärs bereitete Nepals König Mahendra viele Sorgen, da er befürchtete, dass Nepal von Indien verschluckt werden konnte. Laut Krishna Bhattrai dies war der Grund, warum König Mahendra sein leben nahm.

Als ich noch Student war in in Katmandus Tri Chandra College, spielten sie häufig das nepalesisches Lied: “Ma marey pani mero desh bachhi rahos” was 'auch wenn ich sterbe, soll mein weiter Leben' bedeutet. Es wäre ein Jammer, wenn das Land Nepal auch sterben würde, nach dem Tod von dem selbsternannte Gottkönig, dessen Sah-Dynastie Nepal 239 Jahre lang regierte---bis ein Maoist namens Prachanda und seine Maobadi-krieger das Land eroberte, wie einst König Prithvi Narayan Shah und seine Blutrunstigen Gurkhas ins Katmandutal siegreich einmarschierten, nachdem Kirtipur gefallen war.

Im Roman erwähnt ein Palastbeamter, dass er ein Mann weglaufen gesehen hatte von der Bankettsaal von Narayanhitipalast. Der Verdacht ist, dass der Mann, der der Schwieger Sohn ist von Prinz Dhirendra (mein Schulkamarad), der auch während der Massaker getötet worden war, wüßte mehr über den Attentat.

Das Buch erzählt auch, dass König Mahendra's Tod direkt in zusammenhang steht mit der Streit zwischen ihm und die indische Premier Indira Gandhi. Mahendra Shah hatte Nepals gewählte Primierminister von seinem Amt entlassen, die politische Parteien verboten politisch Tätig zu werden und führte eine repressive, hinduistischen Regierungsystem genannt Panchayat, die von den Royalisten geführt wurde. India war dagegen und setzte Köig Mahendra unter Druck und verlangte von ihm es wieder rückgängig zu machen.

Dieser Massaker kam den Kommunisten Nepals, vor allem die militanten Maobadi Gruppierung nicht ungelegen. Sie wussten es, die Situation auszunutzen.

Als herkünftiger Nepali kann ich nur hoffen, daß die Ruhe wieder einkehren wird. Der neue König von Nepal Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shahadev kenne ich als ein Mann seitdem ich als Journalist bei The Rising Nepal gearbeitet habe. Seine erste Statement, nämlich dass das automatische Gewehr von allein losgegangen wäre, sprach nicht von Weisheit. Die Nachricht ging durch die ganze Welt. Es mag sein, dass es eine königliche Notlüge war. Er gilt als jemand, der ein Herz für Nepals Flora und Fauna gezeigt hat und er engagierte sich für die Ideen des World Wildlife Fund, indem er National Parks einrichten lies. Er war und ist der Vorsitzender von der King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation mit Sitz in Kathmandu. Dass er auch Diplomatie und die Fähigkeit besaß, ein armes, problembeladenes Land wie Nepal als sein konstitutionelles Monarch führen konnte war fragwürdig, da die Maoisten waren de facto die eigentliche militärische Herrscher Nepals. Er galt als konservativ im hinduistischen Sinne, sanft aber unbeliebt, aner seine Sanftheit was leider nur vorübergehend.

In Nepali Dokumentarefilme ist er häufig gesehen worden bei der Eröffnungsfeiern von Schulen, Krankenhäusern und National Parks. Er hat die Chance, die Rolle des Gottkönigs anders zu gestalten und Nepal auf dem Weg zum Fortschritt zu führen verspielt. Er war kein Staatsman, sondern nur in Geschäfte interessiert und konnte mit den Maobadis und andere kommunistische Oppositionellen mit Dialog und konstruktive Argumentationen, Zugeständnisse und Kompromisse nicht besänftigen, denn Kommunismus und Monarchie waren und sind nicht kompatibel.

Es bleibt ein schwieriger Job, ein Land wie Nepal zu regieren, da die pro China Maobadis und die pro Indien Congress Partei befinden sich in einem Clinch und kämpfen um die Macht in Schatten des Himalaya Staates.
]]> Mon, 23 Jun 2008 10:46:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/394715 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/392137
The ruins of Zähringen’s castle lies on a hillock overlooking the Vale of Dreisam. And the hamlet of Zähringen is a part of Freiburg. Zähringen is 1000 years old, reason enough to celebrate a festival with the inauguration of the Zähringer fountain, which is a tall monolith with a scarlet heart on the top, a work of art. Like all such celebrations, the 1000 years of Zähringen began with a mass at the St.Blasius church, followed by a cultural program with the cooperation of the Zähringer towns.

Zähringen’s history which dates back to a document entitled ‘castrum Zaringen,’ was founded in 1128 at the end of the 11th century, on the fundament of a once Allemanic building. The event was the heir, who came had Swabian blood in his veins, Berthold II, who received the town from the Count of Rheinfelden. Bertold II is seen as the founder of Zähringen, and in the year 1100 he was bestowed the title of ‘dux de Zaringen.’ A dux or duke is called ‘Herzog’ in German and thus the Zahringer. Became nobility in the German Empire, although the nobility lasted only a short while---till the death of Bertold V. The castle of Zähringen became their main residence and had been raised to the rank of a Reichsburg (Empire Castle).

At the beginning of the 12th century, the dukes changed their main residence to Freiburg and left the old castle in the care of the Vögten.

The year 1278 brought the first destruction of Zähringen castle at the hands of the Freiburger. The old castle was renovated from 1281 onwards. In 1327 Zähringen became the property of the Freiburger Patrizier Snewlin-Bernlapp. (Today there’s Bernlapp apothecary and a street carrying his name in downtown Zähringen, right near the tram station).

The castle was besieged and destroyed again during the Peasants’ War (Bauernkrieg) in the year 1525. The Thirty Year War brought a complete destruction of the castle. The castle ruin changed hands from the Abbot of St. Peter, and finally became the property of Baden in 1805.

Today, the castle ruin of Zähringen dates back to the late 13th century and the castle wall ring and the fundaments of the olde castle are still intact. The castle ruin has become an attraction for visitors who like nordic walking and hiking, school-kids and senior generations, although it doesn’t have the same allure as the ruins of Staufen, Schiltach, the ruins of Rötteln, Schloss Ortenberg at Ortenau or Hornberg-upon- Neckar.

Ach, Zähringen (Satis Shroff)

Zähringen lies to the north of Freiburg,
A castle ruin, which is a tourist attraction.
In the early days they used to dig for silver ores below the castle.
The ores that were dug were brought to the 'Poche',
Where they separated the silver from the ore
By melting them at high temperatures in the charcoal-kilns.
 
At the moment it smells of smoked-fish.
The adjacent barn has been rented to a German,
Who wears his spectacles on the tip of his nose,
He lisps and tells stories of the old times in Zähringen.
He smokes trout from the Black Forest thrice a year.
I think he sells them, otherwise he wouldn't smoke so many fishes.
He always hands me a freshly smoked trout
Wrapped on a piece of German newspaper.
I thank him and hand him a bottle of Weissherbst from our cellar.
 
When I sit and read a book on the terrace,
Frau Keller greets me with a friendly 'Hallochen!' from the street.
She has short, silvery hair and has a warm smile across her face.
She's an ethnic German from Romania.
I like her soft-spoken East Bloc accent.
Her friendliness is disarming even though she has a lot of pain.
 
In the afternoon I hear soft piano melodies,
When my son Julian does his music exercises.
The tones of the piano mingle with bird-cries,
And suddenly one hears the loud noise of a lorry,
Transporting either furniture or building materials,
Up and down the Pochgasse.
A lot of expensive villas are cropping up.
 
The Zähringer, as people living in Zähringen are wont to be called,
Are an active folk when it comes to organising things.
Every autumn there's a Hock around the St. Blasius church,
A get together, with Blasmusik, children's cries of joy,
The smell of waffel, noodle soup, roasted pork, sausages,
Fried potatoes and pizza lies in the air.
 
The ancestors of the people in Zähringer were charcoal-burners,
Who lived behind the castle.
One day the coal-burner discovered melted silver under his oven.
In those days there used to live a king, who'd fled to Kaisersstuhl.
He lived with his family in poverty.
The coal-burner went and gave the silver he'd found to the king.
The king was so impressed that he gave his daughter
In marriage to the coal-burner,
As well as the land surrounding Freiburg.
The king named him the Herzog von Zähringen.
The Zähringer duke founded Freiburg and other castles.
 
There's a tunnel at the end of the Pochgasse.
The cars drive below and the ICE and Swiss trains above.
Young and elderly Germans come by and ask only one question:
„Wo, bitte, geht’s zum Zähringerburg?“
Where's the road to the Zähringen castle-ruins?
 
The castle was built in 1091 by Herzog Bertold V.
It was destroyed by war and fire.
What has remained is an 18 meter high tower,
With a commanding view of Freiburg.
 
Glossary:
Gasse: small lane
Köhler: charcoal-burner
Köhlerei: charcoal works
Weissherbst: a German wine
Burg: castle
Meiler: charcoal-kiln
Blaskapelle: brass-band
spanferkel: porkling
Herzog: Duke of Zähringen


Meanwhile, as they say ins stories, the charcoal-burner became so powerful that he turned into a tyrant. One day the charcoal-burner or Kohler as we say in German, commanded his cook to fry a boy and serve it for dinner. The cook complied fearing for his own life. When the duke saw what the cook had done at his command, he repented the barbarious act and promised to mend his ways by building two monasteries---St.Peter and St. Ruprecht in the Black Forest.

However, it must be mentioned that there are different versions to the castle of Zähringen. In the verses of Schuzler 1846 (page 353-355), the Kohler finds gold instead of silver, and it’s not a king with whom he bargains but the emperor, who comes personally clothed as a monk and seeks refuge at the charcoal-burner’s home, who in turn offers the emperor his gold as a sign of loyalty. The emperor accepts the gold and gives him his own daughter’s hand to show his thankfulness, and also gives him the acres of Breisgau as his dukedom.
]]> Thu, 19 Jun 2008 04:19:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/392137 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/387817 Ach, Helvetia, You're great even in Defeat (Satis Shroff)


Public Viewing Zeitgeist (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)

The scene is at the Joggeli ,
A stadium in Basel, Switzerland.
The Czechs think the Germans are going to be behind them.
Karel Brückner wears a black muffler on this humid afternoon.
The Swiss Nati enters the arena.
Yodel songs, Alp horns, an elegant Miss Swiss saunters by,
Samba music reminiscent of Guggemusik at Fasnet,
Swiss fans with red and white flags,
Effigies of Swiss cows, blondes wearing hats,
Caps and motley headgear,
Blonde farmers on stilts, soccer ball skirts and milk-cans,
Amid cow bells and the cries of the spectators.

Mountain pixels: Jungfrau, Mönch and Eiger,
Skiing figures of a Ski nation,
Barock costumes, dancing figures
In black n’ white,
The waltz and techno music.
Magic cube effects on the soccer field.
Symbols for Swiss watch industry,
Flags galore.
A coy Amanda Amman,
Miss Switzerland in scarlet silk.
“She’s half Swiss and half Czech” quips someone.

The Swiss are celebrating a big soccer festival.
The entire stadium becomes a soul,
Unified as 100,000 fans shout in defiance
Through their larynx and lungs.

From Ortenau to Schaffhausen,
The fans are streaming in,
Controlled by Swiss, German
And French security men and women,
Armed with guns, sticks, Alsatian dogs,
And Luftwaffe aircraft doing sorties in the sky,
The fear of Al Kaida is everywhere.

42000 in the St. Jakob’s arena,
35 000 in the Fan Zone,
Another 20 000 in the inns, taverns
Public viewing places in Basle.
Discussions center on
The four-man defence chain,
Tactics, strategies of trainers,
Performances in the Bundes and other leagues.
A big chance for Switzerland.

438 green balloons reach for the sky.
Fireworks,
Standing ovation from the spectators,
The Swiss hold hands
To the national hymn

Standing ovation for a knie injured captain,
Alexander Frei the surest Swiss striker,
Is in tears against the Czechs.
0:2 says the gigantic stadium neon chart,
Against the Turks.
Köbi Kuhn the dignified thoughtful Swiss man’s
Euro dream disappears.
The best Euro host takes its bow.
You can still read the disappointment on our faces.
Ach, Helvetia you’re great even in defeat.
]]> Thu, 12 Jun 2008 10:41:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/387817 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/381675
Weg im Tessin (Stefan Heinz,Grenzach-Wyhlen)

Aufwärts der
kastanienwald
der staub wie
Asche mich zermürbt
ein ast
den anderen bricht
durch mich hin
durch die weite
höhe sterben
ein elendes
gesicht bin ich
auf schmalen pfaden
steil der staub
mein augenlicht
verblasst jesus’
blut gefriert der see
voll wonne satt
liegt brach
der mensch
trieb die dole
quer das leben
licht empor
getragen bahnen
tanz der eisberg
glanzkristall
lebenslang der
qualvoll selbe tanz:
der stachel
und das blatt
vogelsegeln
mir ein stein
zu boden rollt
das leben
hingestreckt.


]]> Mon, 02 Jun 2008 10:47:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/381675 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/375439 Regards,
Satis
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Drive Traffic to Your Blog/Site (Alva) 5/21/08 - 6:25 PM

I shared the following tips in the Writers Bloggers group over at www.LandscapeBliss.com and wanted to share with my Shoutlife friends too! There are many simple and free ways to implement a viral marketing program for your blog, book, music, or website ... following are seven tips to get you started with links to sites to help you create buzz. If you have other tips to share, I would love to hear them too!

1. Add social bookmarks to your blog or web page to make it easier for your readers to bookmark you, share their bookmarks with others, and to add links to your site. Socials Submit is a site to consider: www.socialsubmit.com -- On the right column of www.LandscapeBliss.com, I have a link for many more!

2. Register your blog or webpage with search engines; here's the URL for Google Submit: www.google.com/addurl

3. Join a blog directory such as www.blotanical.com for garden writers, there are many others for other audiences.

4. Add a signature link, (using your own URL) to emails sent such as "Join me at www.LandscapeBliss.com"

5. Submit a newsworthy press release to an online PR site such as www.prweb.com

6. Exchange links with others; link to their sites and ask for a reciprocal link to yours.

7. Submit articles to free online content providers such as Article Connection: www.articleconnection.com


Please share what you have found to be helpful in increasing traffic to your blog or website! Wishing you much success in your marketing and promotions!
-----
If you love landscape design and gardening, come check out my work at www.LandscapeBliss.com!




]]> Thu, 22 May 2008 04:07:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/375439 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/372425 Tribute:
Anzu Furukawa and The Rite of Spring (Satis Shroff)


I’d often seen an outsized portrait of Anzu Furukawa in Wolfgang Graf’s home, and when we talked about Anzu and he said, “My own experience with Anzu came in 1999, during the San Francisco Buto Festival. I participated in her workshop and found her to be a good teacher, able to communicate well to her students despite the fact the her English was somewhat limited. She used humour to break the tension that so often can hamper a student from learning. That same humour was communicated in her performance of one of her most famous works, Crocodile Time.”
Anzu Furukawa was born in Tokyo in 1952. She studied in 1972-75 under professor Yoshiro Irino in the Toho-gakuen College of Music. She worked since 1973 as a choreographer, performer and scenarist in various groups in Japan and Europe on many international festivals. Among others she also worked in 1979 as a solo dancer in the Dairaku-kan buto group. An accomplished ballet dancer, modern dancer, studio pianist for ballet companies and a student of modern composition of music in addition to being both a teacher and performer of Buto dance.
In this connection it is necessary to talk about the Buto. 'What is 'Buto?' you might ask.

Buto is a school of modern Japanese dance which was born at the turn of the fifties and sixties. Buto dance has also influenced the development of dance in Finland and in Europe in general.  Buto was born amid the upheavals in Japan, in the atmosphere characterised by student revolts, performance acts and agitation prop. The founder of the school was Tatsumi Hijikata (1928-1986), who came from Northern Japan to Tokyo.  He started with violent and anarchistic dance performances, after which his relations with the official school of Japanese dance were cut off. In his later work, he created a kind of basic technique for buto, which, however, differed from Western aesthetics.  Another “first generation buto artist“ is Kazuo Ohno (1906-) who also visited Finland.

Anzu gave her debut in 1973 as a director and choreographer with the first piece "grand conceptual opera" SALOME TALE at the German Cultural Centre in Tokyo. From 1974 till 79 she worked as a soloist in the dancer performance Dairaruda-kan directed by Akaji Maro. She also worked with Carlotta Ikeda, Ko Muroboshi, Ushio Amagatsu.
In 1979-86 she founded and led, together with Tetsuro Tamuro, the Dance Love Machine group. Then she founded in 1987 the Anzu Dance School in Tokyo and began solo performances in Japan and Europe. In 1987 she created many successful works such as the Anzu´s Animal Atlas, Cells of Apple, Faust II, Rent-a-body, The Detective from China, and A Diamond as big as the Ritz. From 1991 till 1997 she held University Professorship in Hochschule fur Bildende Kunste Braunschweig, Germany (schwerpunkt Performance) . She received many grants and prizes from the Goethe Institut Tokyo Contemporary music series, The Japan Foundation, Nippon Geijutsu Bunka Shinko Kikin, Afred Kordelin Foundation, The Art Council of Province of Central Finland and the Astro-Labium prize, The International Electronic Cinema Festival-Montreux, Kolner Theatre Prize
As a visiting instructor at a Finnish university, Anzu Furukawa concentrated on collaborative productions at the Helsinki City Theatre and staged works like the Rite of Spring in 1994 and the Buto works Bo (Keppi) and Shiroi mizu (Villi Vesi) in 1995 using mostly Finnish dancers. In Western Europe, most people believe that a dancer should stop performing at the top level sometime in their 40s. Due to the attitude of placing importance on the realities of the body mentioned earlier in regard to the interest in Buto, or perhaps the influence of Buto itself, many Finnish dancers still continue to perform into their 50s.

It is the presence of cross-over type activities that transcend conventional category boundaries, like the works of Uotinen that give Finnish dance its contemporary strength. There is also active collaboration with artists from other genre, especially collaborations with media artists and lighting creators. This writer has personally feels that there is a lot of beautifully created light work in Finnish dance, and it seems as if the sensitivity of the lighting art is not unrelated to a dramatic element that originates in the Finnish natural environment with the shining brightness of the midnight sun in summer, the darkness that dominates the winter and the fact that its polar proximity makes the Aurora borealis a common sight. This light-effect is brought onto the stage by no other than Mikki Kunttu, Finland’s representative lighting designer.

In the work of Saarinen mentioned at the beginning, the natural light effect designed by Mikki Kunttu helped to bring an abstract expression of the religious spirituality achieved through a life of denial of human desires that is the theme of the work.

The solo Hunt that takes Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring as its motif, is an impressive solo that brings the theme to life within the burning energy of the dance. Beginning from silence and having the body spring to life with the music, the piece proceeds to the closing stage to build as images of Marita Liulia projected on the body in a way that created a visual expression of the human body in the information age. I personally like Igor Stravinsky’s “Der Feuervögel”, the firebird very much and it is performed in many German schools. There’s a strong interest in Buto in the Finnish dance world and there are many choreographers and dancers who have studied Buto or been influenced by it. This is the result of an expansive approach to the natural world and the physical implications of the fact that the distant roots of the Finnish people who make up most of the population live in Asia. I’d say “Pippis!” to that as a South Asian.

For instance, the approach to nudity that has resulted from Finland’s sauna culture, which is an integral part of Finnish life, is completely different from that of other European countries and even its neighbour Sweden. For the Finnish, nudity is neither implicative of the taboos of sexuality or the diametrically opposed concepts of utopia but simply a natural state that is part of daily life. This fact further deepens the interest in Buto as a form of dance that examines the truths of the body, and the darker sides of life, and seeks to encompass expressions of ailment and death as a part of dance. Dance does not necessarily have to be artificial and aesthetic at all times. In contemporary times we have the Riverdance, Bollywood dancing, Bolshoi or Royal Ballet, in which the body plays a dominant role but the emphasis is on the footwork and a minimum of facial expressions that are used to display the emotions. Not so in Buto performances.

The artistic director of the previously mentioned Kuopio Dance Festival from 1993 to 98, the Asian arts researcher Jukka O. Miettinen, was one of the first to take an interest in Buto and play an active role in introducing Buto artists Carlotta Ikeda, Ko Murobushi, Kazuo Ohno, Sankaijuku and Anzu Furukawa: The festival did help establish an audience for Buto in Finnland.

Among the front-line dancers and choreographers in Finland are a number who have journeyed to Japan to study Buto. Tero Saarinen, who performed as a dancer for the Finland National Ballet Company, before forming his own Tero Saarinen Company, studied Buto for a year in Tokyo at the Kazuo Ohno Dance Studio. And, Arja Raatikainen and Ari Tenhula also studied under Ohno and Anzu Furukawa.

Other Buto artists who have visited and worked in Finland include Masaki Iwana, but the influence of the late Anzu Furukawa who visited Finnland numerous times. and gave many workshops, was especially strong. After performing with Dairakudakan, Furukawa formed Dance Love Machine with Tetsuro Tamura. Later she moved to Germany and continued her activities based in Europe, forming a multinational dance group called Dance Butter Tokio. The reason for her popularity was probably the wild dance theatre type composition of her works that made use of unexpected or comic twists and the exaggerated deformé type body movement that connected in some ways to German expressionist dance.

In an e-mail posted by Chikashi Furukawa, Anzu's 'little boy' brother dated October 23rd you could read: "I am sorry to inform you that Anzu passed away early this morning. She had been sleeping for more than 30 hours and stopped breathing in peace with her two lovely children holding her hands. She danced at Freiburg New Dance Festival only 20 days ago. In my memory, Anzu was and is always a 'little girl in an oversized dress'. She ran through all of us in such a hurry."

]]> Fri, 16 May 2008 10:58:00 EDT http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/372425 48.0 7.8548.07.85 http://satisshroff.tigblog.org/post/366279
Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who was lifted to nobility as J. W.von Goethe in 1782, was born on August 28, 1749 in the town of Frankfurt. The Goethes lived in a large, comfortable house in the Hirschgasse, now called Goethe Haus. Besides practical, scientific and autobiographical writings, he left behind more than 15,000 letters, diaries relating to the 52 years of his life and also countless conversational writings of people he’d met.

Even though Goethe’s work is fragmentary in general, it reveals the essence of his literary genius. Goethe himself said: ‘Alle meine Werke sind Bruchstücke einer großen Konfession.’
He remains to date one of the most original and powerful German lyric poets and his Faust is no doubt a work of inexhaustible ambiguity and wonderful poetry.

The atmosphere that was evident in his parent’s home was that of the educated and their lifestyle in those days, and through his writings we get an exact idea of the Zeitgeist of Goethe’s days. He held the town of his birth in high esteem for it was the environment and intellectual background of his youthful development. Young Goethe loved to lose himself in the crowd around the Dome or in the Roman hill (Römerberg), which he always remembered as a fine place to go for a walk.

The closest relationship of his youth was his sister Cornelia, who sadly enough died at the age of 27. Asked about the influence of his parents on him, Goethe summed it this way:

From father I have the stature,
To lead an earnest life.
From mother the good nature,
And the joy of story-telling.

Goethe was taught by house-teachers. After learning the old languages, he started learning French, English and Hebrew. At the age of 10 he read Aesop, Homer, Vergil, Ovid and also the German folks-books. Besides education in humanities and science, he was also taught religion, which was determined by the dominating explanatory issue of Lutherdom in Frankfurt.

The big earthquake in Lissabon in 1755 was important for the development of Goethe’s mind, as it went into history as one of the greatest natural catastrophies of the century. Besides these natural calamities there were also religious and historical movements which left a deep impression in Goethe’s mind, for example the Seven-Years War between Prussia and Austria wherein he saw the consequences of the general political situation in his own life. Another important event during the occupation of Frankfurt by Napoleon’s troops was his fascination for a troupe of French actors, who’s shows he was allowed to visit regularly. That was the awakening in Goethe of his interest for theatre, and which had been sparked earlier in his life through a puppet-stage (Puppenbühne) and which can be seen in some scenes from ‘Wilhelm Meister’s Theaterical Shows.’

At the age of 16 Goethe was prepared for his academic studies. His father wanted him to study law in Leipzig. This was a city known for its trade, commerce, rich people in a wealthy epoche, and was filled with the spirit of Rokoko. Although Leipzig made a lasting impression on Goethe, he found the lectures on law rather boring. Nevertheless, the town of Leipzig brought to Goethe his passion for Anna Katherina, the daughter of a man who owned an inn, where he used to eat lunch since 1766.
In his first completed play ‘The Whims of a Lover’ (Laune des Verliebten) which is based on the times of the Rokoko (Schäferstücke), he drew his own glowing passion. It was his inner desire to put into poetry the themes that were burning within him. In March 1770 Goethe arrived in Strassburg to complete his university studies in law.

Like in Leipzig, Goethe found friends in Strassburg. One of the most important events was his meeting with Herder, who due to his eye-disease was obliged to stay in Strassburg for a couple of months. Here’s what Goethe said about Herder: “Since his conversations were important at all times, he used to ask, reply or express himself in another way, and in this manner I had to express myself in new ways and new views, almost every hour.” It was Herder who brought Goethe to the immeasureability of Shakespeare, told him about Ossian and Pindar, and opened his vision for Volkspoetry. Influenced by Herder’s appreciation of Shakespeare’s genius, he wrote at speed a pseudo-Shakespearean tragedy called: “Geschichte Gottfrieds von Berlichingen.” This was so ill-received by Herder that he put it aside.

Shortly after his return from Strassburg, he turned 22 and started working as a lawyer at the Frankfurter Schöffengericht. Goethe couldn’t care less about the traditions of the citizens in Leipzig and his relatives, his parents’ home. As a lawyer in the courtrooms he had to suffer a bit due to his strange way of putting proceedings to paper, and gradually he began to write farces and parodies about well-known authors of his times and railed upon his own friends, took interest in Alchemy experiments and sought out open-minded literary circles of Frankfurt and in his neighbourhood.

At 24 Goethe was already a well-known author of Germany. No other time in Goethe’s life was filled with prolific poetic works than in this period in Frankfurt. The time before and after his work ‘Werther’ was not only a time of multiple literary production, but also a period in which he spent a lot of time on seeking answers for questions on religion.

The last Frankfurter year (1775) brought Goethe another year of passionate love in the form of Lili Schönemann, a 16 year old daughter of a Frankfurter trader. He experienced one of the most exciting and happiest times in his life. Alas, Goethe drifted between his love for Lili and the feeling that he’d settled for a happiness at home wouldn’t be enough for him. An episode from outside helped him to bear and make the separation from Lili possible.

On November 7, 1775 Goethe came to Weimar, which was in those days a town with a population of 6000. In July 1776 Goethe joined the state service formally as its Secret Legislations Council. Goethe’s new position in the Geheim Konsil brought him soon enough in contact with almost all the pre-commissions of the state-administration.
h
In 1779 he was appointed the War Commissioner and was responsible for the 500 soldiers of the state. Three years later he had the Chamber under him and became the highest financial administrator. Through his participation in the reading-evenings, redouts and other functions at the court and its high and snobbish society, the events became rather extravagant. And through Goethe’s presence and mediation Weimar gained importance.

However, it was the serene, tempered lady-in-waiting (Hofdame) Charlotte von Stein, a cold beauty, who was unhappily married, who gained more influence on Goethe. From the first moment they met, she reminded Goethe of his sister Cornelia, and he felt drawn to her. In the years to come Goethe couldn’t do without her clear, mature way of doing things. He called her ‘the serene,’ an angel, even a Madonna. A friendship of kindred souls began, which was a puzzle to Goethe himself. It was in these Weimar years that Goethe wrote poems such as: Harzreise im Winter, An den Mond, Gesang der Geister über den Wassern, Wanderer, Nachtlied and so forth. Moreover, many of his songs and poems were set to music by composers ranging from Mozart and Frederik Schubert to Othmar Schoeck (1886-1957). Under the influence of Charlotte von Stein began a decisive change within Goethe. It was during this period in the months of February and March 1779, when he had to go to different places of the Dukedom to recruit soldiers, to keep an eye on them, to inspect the conditions of the roads, that he wrote the first edition of ‘Iphigenie and Taurus.’ This drama became the mirror of his search for purity. The period after ‘Iphigenie’ was penned in 1779 was a phase in the inner development of Goethe’s life, till he travelled to Italy. Goethe became not only confident as an administrator but also improved the purity and quality of his verses.

The more prosaic he became in his daily duties, the more he endeavoured to bring a sense of order and system in all what he did. In addition to the completion of Iphigenie, he also started ‘Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre,’ wrote the concept for ‘Tasso’ and some parts of his ‘Faust.’ These were the fruits of lyrical productions. And just before his Italian journey, he did extensive studies in the natural sciences. His activities at the University of Jena brought him in intensive contact with comparative anatomy. In those days there was a conception regarding the original form and relationship between all living beings, and he proved the existence of the ‘Zwischenkieferknochen’ in humans, which was thought to be known only in the animal world. Goethe showed the biological development of living beings almost 100 years ahead of Charles Darwin.

Goethe’s interest in natural science showed him how his career in the state service brought him away from things he most cherished to do. So he decided on the tenth year of his period in Weimar that he had to break up his service. After arranging his farewell from the state service and personal matters, he asked the Duke for a prolonged leave. He left abruptly, like in 1772 in Wetzlar and 1775 in Frankfurt, as though he was fleeing from something. Even in the presence of Duke and Charlotte von Stein he didn’t utter a word about his concrete plans. He embarked upon the biggest journey to Italy after a short spa sojourn in Böhmen (Bohemia).

After a week-long ride in a coach he reached bella Italia. The first stop was in Rome, where Goethe stayed for four months. It had always been the middle point of his life to study the works of art history in Rome He went to the theatre and attended court cases, watched processions, took part in church festivals, and towards February 1788 even visited the Carnival in Rome. He expanded his knowledge of art history systematically. Goethe found it difficult to say adieu to Rome. The return to Germany was disappointing for Goethe and he felt isolated. Goethe’s record of his journey to Italy (Italienische Reise) appeared in 1816-17. Instead of the Weimar politicians and administrators, Goethe sought to fraternise with professors of the Weimar University. He met Schiller often.

Goethe found a new love: Christiane Vulpius, a handsome woman of lower rank who became his mistress, and with whom he had five children, but only one survived, his first son August, born in 1789. Goethe put his energy in the Weimar Court Theatre, founded in 1791, and developed it within a few years to one of the most famous German stages. Goethe’s loss of Rome was compensated to some extent by his meetings with Schiller, which did him good. Out of the first meeting with Schiller developed an intensive exchange of thoughts in spoken word and writing that was of mutual benefit for both. It was based on their common classicism and on their conviction of the central function of art in human affairs. Goethe’s epic poem ‘Hermann und Dorothea’ (1779) was well received.

Goethe was instrumental in changing Schiller’s tendency to go to extremes, and his habit of indulging in philosophical speculations.

On the other hand, Schill