We all tell stories all the time

A friend's daughter and I were walking through the marketplace in her town the other day. It was early winter dusk. The Christmas Market stands were standing empty around the periphery in anticipation of next week's opening. My young companion told me how she and her family often come to the Christmas Market in the evenings after dinner. Then she told a story in short sentences with great depth,

“The adults stand crowded together while the children run around. There is music and a bubble-making fountain. The children chase after the bubbles. Oh, I love the feel and taste of the hot Christmas Punch* in my mouth and the coldness on my cheeks.”

Do not those words conjure up so many wonderful images?

* The children get a spiced Christmas Punch with no alcohol, but those adults crowding around talking are undoubtedly partaking in the more stronger sort.

Impressive Images and Good Graphics

photo by Olivier Vandeginste

The Big Picture has another series of spectacular photos of Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull volcano outbreak.

My son has been stuck in southern Italy these last days due to the reduced air traffic in Europe. The gods willing, he is making his way home today.

One of the reasons I so enjoy the Information is Beautiful blog is that the author asks the right question and finds the clever answer so often.

David the creator of the graphic above just posted the following information:

"We got our figures wrong on the CO2 emissions of Icelandic volcano Eyjafjallajoekull. Badly wrong.

So we want to apologise.

We pride ourselves on good data and solid information. Despite detailed research and feedback from Icelandic vulcanologists, our figures were out by a magnitude of ten


The volcano is emitting 150,000 tons of CO2 per day, not 15,000 tons."

Even though David made an initial mistake, I still think the corrected image shows how graphics are good for presenting both the big picture and the small details of a situation.

Everyday Heroes V

Everyday heroes we encounter are important influences on our lives. They have the ability to alter our thinking and, often, even the direction of our decision-making. This post is part of a series I am writing about the heroes I have met.



Name: Ruth
Profession: corporate law
Marital Status: married
Children: a daughter
Place of Origin: Cameroon

How we met:

Ruth came to live in Germany with her young daughter a year and a half ago. She came in the dead of winter. Ruth knew how to speak German and she had conscientiously studied all the facts and figures of this new country she was marrying into. What she couldn’t learn in the warm and wonderful climate of Douala, was what winter cold feels like. How deep damp winter weather can hurt you teeth and bones.

How the winter darkness can sap all the residues of sunny joy stored from childhood memories from the marrow of those bones.

How impenetrable are the blank facades in the faces of her German neighbours.

How confusing is the bureaucratic machinery that every citizen and resident must comply to.

Yet, Ruth proves to have more resilience and resourcefulness and quiet charm than all those dour beings and circumstances that are scattering stones in her way. She has forged loving relationships with her new extended family. She has become mightily efficient at navigating herself around the labyrinth called German bureaucracy. She’s helped her daughter find a place in her new neighbourhood. She has become a wise and kind friend.

What she has shown me:

She has shown an ability to move with assurance in a strange culture. She has show me that even if you are confused and at times desperate, you can’t stop moving in the general direction you see as forward. Whether it is forward or not, is almost irrelevant, just take purposeful steps as best you can.

Everyday Heroes IV

Everyday heroes we encounter are important influences on our lives. They have the ability to alter our thinking and, often, even the direction of our decision-making. This post is part of a series I am writing about the heroes I have met.



Name: Karen
Profession: librarian
Marital Status: married
Children: two daughters
Place of Origin: Ohio, USA

How we met:

When I first came to live in Germany, all those years ago, it was winter. It was dark and dismal outdoors. Indoors it was lonely. I felt lamed.

Not knowing how to speak German was a barrier. As the only woman in a large department of socially inept engineers, it wasn’t easy getting to know people. When I met an American woman, Karen, whose husband was an officer in the US Army Base down the road from where I worked, my world changed.

Karen was actively immersed in the social and cultural life of the city; unlike many of the officers’ wives who lived very isolated lives on base. She was a member of the Bach Choir, part of the women’s literary society, and active in the neighbourhood community where she and her husband lived on the outskirts of the city.

What made her special was her willingness to (learn and) speak German, as well as her willingness to (learn and) respect the various social norms prevalent to the area. Up until the time I met Karen, I had been struggling unsuccessfully to learn German. And, my attitude towards the mountain of social norms I was being buried under was, “If you could just leave me alone, I’d love to leave you alone.” Karen, in her infinitely gracious and gentle manner helped me to surrender myself to my lot. Through example, she taught me more about how to be happy living as a foreigner in a foreign land than anyone I have met before or since.

What she taught me:

The first way to get to know someone is through language, then shared interests and experiences, and finally, through shared sense of humour and value system. She also showed me that there wasn’t any short cut to get there.

Freising

The sunrise starts outside of the window just across from where I slept. First light comes around four o'clock. A trumpet call of light streams across the room, commanding me to get up at seven-thirty. Inbetween, I wink one eye or the other open, say a very short prayer of thanks, and then fall instantly back to sleep.

The day is warm and sunny. I wander through the city streets that are for the most part, desserted. Except for a few locals who are bustling home from a quick stop at the bakery to pick up fresh bread rolls.

The folks here are friendly. Or, at least I foundriendly waiter who is in the process of opening up a café, willing to serve me a much desired cup of tea. A morning is not a morning without tea.

Two young men and a woman stroll over after a night out on the town in search of coffee and something to eat. They are loud and obviously inebreated: their moods unpredictable.

The woman giggles a lot. The man, with the Clive Owen look, has a low sandpaper voice, and like sto hear himself speaking. He and the woman occasionally kiss. Passionate kisses. They speak of more to come, once they are home and their sidekick is gone.

Sidekick is the most dronk of the three. Beligerant to boot. While his companions kiss, he class up the people on his cell phone list and yells obcenities into the phone. He thinks this is funny.

The friendly waiter comes and makes a comment about it being time for them to put some food in their stomachs. The sidekick asks him if he can hear their stomachs rumbling. The waiter replies dryly that not only their stomachs can be heard over the whole market place. He chooses his words so well, they do not appear to be rude or condecending, rather, they cut through the dullness, the cotton padding of their inebreation. Suddenly, the three begin to behave civilly.

It is as though the waiter's words possess the magic ability to remind them how they normally behave.