Ghost Servants

Porto Chervo, Sardinia a summer destination for many wealthy families and bachelors who have their own yachts parked in the waters close to the most exclusive resorts and clubs where lunch for a regular family will cost $1700 and a night on the town will cost as much per person. Versace, Gucci and Dolce Gabbana fills the void of a hot summer day. All in all: life is good. But the world of the rich is filled with ghost, some struggling some satisfied with the after life of fancy dinners and night time extravaganza. What they have to say and feel is of no ones concern, other than mine.


Julie and Barbara

    Living breathing ghost? Well, back when she lived a life what most successful and ordinary think ,Julie worked for a financing firm as a consultant. After turning 26 she was relocated to Singapore, it was once of those life changing experiences, apart from changing time zones her whole life started to shift. “We would travel to Thailand a lot for boat shows and Regattas” Julia told me about her time off from work with friends, “a lot of my friends were into sailing and it was a fun sport”. While visiting Thailand she encountered yacht crew members, “I was intrigued and thought that this is an amazing job, traveling and living on a prestigious boat!”. After about a year Julia quit her job and moved to Thailand to pursue her career as a stewardess. “For about a year I lived on a 20 meter sail boat and worked for free, my “pay” included living quarters on a boat and food, I just wanted to get my foot in the door” Julia laughs as she talks about her experience and training “I had to cook and serve dinner, make the place look clean, and I had never done any of that before, sure I knew how to make pasta for myself at home but that was about it”. Julia learned everything from scratch.

After gaining enough experience she moved on and got a job as a crew member on a very prestigious yacht and from then on it was all about earning enough “merit points” to progress. As a rule a good steward/ess in essence keeps the place dazzling, and knows a thing or two about fire prevention and first aid, the more you know about everything the better, after all it’s a good thing to know how to set the table but saving a life counts more when needed. Like shadows they run and up the giant staircases, from room to room, from one dinning area to another, you only see white blurs from their uniform and one of them was Barbara.
    Barbara unlike Julie does’t seem too happy with her line of work, she does a good job and has same additional benefits like travel, ability to eat good food, stay at 5 star hotels and fly private jets. Barbara works as a nanny for a 10 year old boy, well to be fair she works for his parents, but her entire life revolves around the child. “I’ve been working for the family for 5 years now” she doesn’t say much after that, unless you ask a specific question, it feels that she is tormented by the subject, and every mention of it makes her a little uncomfortable. I asked her how old she was “32” a short reply and a look in her eyes that said “yes, I’m 32 and a nanny, so this is it!” I wanted to know more and with out the fear of sounding rude pushed the subject anyway, there was a feeling she wanted to talk. I asked about her life before she became a nanny, a long “sigh” followed by “I worked as a school teacher in Belorussia and lived with my brother and mother.” On a question about her salary she answered with an embarrassment “250 dollars a month, but I quit after a few years I needed a better paying job so I took another job as a manager in one electronics store, my salary there was $1000 a month” she ended the sentence with a sign of relief. Barbara looked rundown and before we could finish she stood up and ran off, there was a matter of apple juice and clean pants that needed her attention.
    The yacht Julie works on now is a bit over a year old and was given as a present to Mr. K by one of his business partners. The carpets are Italian, the wood work is red maple, the chandeliers are Murano Glass, I felt unnecessary, but that is what the owners are used to. I began to hold myself from laughing every once in a while when overhearing the conversations between the family and their friends. Once on a quite Saturday night Mrs K and her friend were having tea with a monk, one said to the other “we are not paying the crew to think, if you do not know what kind of tea I like, ASK, don’t think that putting tea bags in the tea pot is normal, I mean, who does that?” friend replied “ Oh, I don’t have that problem, my butler is one of those old school servants, they know what is right, I am so fortunate to not have to think about problems like that” to what the monk replied “ yes I understand the quality of good tea made with tea leaves, tea is very important to me in the monastery.” If you ask Julie about what she sees and hears on the job she would say that there are a lot of wild things going on and mind boggling conversations but she can not say what those things are “We are sworn to secrecy and besides this is a ‘word of mouth’ business and everything is based on reputation”.

“I am very valuable, the things you can learn to do the job like cook and set the table, make sure the yacht looks its best and have all the favourite magazines lined up for the Mr. and Mrs. K to read is one thing, but my experience and knowledge on what to buy at what port is priceless” Apparently you can’t get cranberry juice if you are vacationing in Maldives and there are a few ports on the way that sell it “peanut butter and certain types of fruit need to bought before hand if you know that the owners like it, at the end of the day its all about serving and satisfying”. And satisfying not only the senses but caprices as well, because all the furniture is screwed on to the floor a removal of a coffee table would leave a mark, Julie was required to order the exact same piece of carpet from Italy to cover a barely noticeable imprint, and without blinking an eye “it is already done” she replied.
    “Someone was looking for a nanny and a teacher for the boy and I was recommended by one of my friends” Barbara talked about how she got the job as a nanny for Mr. and Mrs K’s son, “the mother wanted someone who could teach the boy and help out with homework and also be young and unattached, not married. Mrs K called me and after talking for an hour hired me” Barbara gets to travel everywhere where the family travels, she’s even converted to families' religion:  Orthodox Christianity after a few years, just like most of the people who work for them do. About her love life she talked with a smile “yeah I would love to get married but I get to go home for only three months out of the year, men in my country don’t want to wait for a woman that long, she’s from the Baltic's, there are plenty of lonely desperate women who fill in for me, besides, I am taking care of my mother and brother with the money I get now” which is just a little bit more than what she made as a manager back home. “I wanted to end my contract last year, but I think I am here for longer than that, don’t see any other options at this point.” I followed Amelia around, there was barely any time she had to speak, her day was filled with looking after the boy making sure he was clean and dry. The family Amelia works for is religious and while standing in Church on a hot sumer morning mass, Amelia fainted, fell to the floor but not before hitting her head on a door knob, Mrs K looked at me, smiled with a smirk and said “she always does this” and continued on with praying.

    Barbara works in the same family with has the same working hours as Julia but she still doesn’t have a life Julia does. “I have a decent salary, and the best part about it all is I don’t have to pay taxes!” Julia whispers loud enough me to hear the enthusiasm in her voice, “traveling from port to port and having bank accounts overseas does the trick”. After spending a few days with her I almost became jealous, she seems to have the perfect job, travel, no taxes, and engaged to a man in the same profession. Barbara like many other employees seemed unhappy with how her life turned out and it is true that not having made decisions herself she felt trapped by circumstances that lead to her employment here. What was distinguishably admirable about Julie was not her line of work but her determinism in reaching the goal, being completely in control her skills made her valuable. Barbara had only one thing the family wanted and that was her wiliness to be controlled having no other option to lean back onto. Ghost servants are those who are doomed to roam the ship obeying command, professionals are free to leave as they please, although chose to stay for the benefits of the afterlife: a life chosen by them, after abandoning one chosen by society.

ULURU (the red center) Australia

 Saturday, 26 June 2010

    The Red Centre, desert is feeling like no other. The moment I landed everything smelled like fresh dust. FRESH, it was intoxicating, it was clean and for some weird reason I couldn’t get enough of it. Our tent had a sliding glass door, felt like a war lord back in the day with army men sleeping under the stars and me, sleeping in a luxury tent overlooking the land I was about to concur. And concur indeed is the right word, it is incredibly exhausting trying to psychologically embrace the culture of the land. There are many sacred sites just in ULURU alone, watching the sunset on the rock to see how it changes colour as does the sky, standing with your back behind the sun and facing the majestic rock, you can’t help but feel small and unimportant. As soon as the sun has set and ULURU turned black, it was time to return to the tent, throw on a poncho and have dinner under the stars.

    A fire pit was swirling with flames that looked like waves dancing in the wind, a Didgeridoo was playing by an aborigines man, he was white and from Scotland “I am a native, I live on this land, I respect this land and as I am the history of it as well”, his hands were gliding up and down the Didgeridoo and fingers caressing the body of the instrument softly and gently, breathing in and out making the sound associated only with aborigines Australia “My hand movement is my dance, the sound is my breathing, this is my passion” he spoke fast and I couldn’t catch his name, it was not important what he was saying, his tone and the way he exhaled his words, the air he was taking in to sound his thoughts were lyrical and a song in itself. I felt his message without hearing the words.

     Dinner was coming to an end, Didgeridoo man finished playing, as he stood up to leave a shooting star fell behind him, he smiled and looked at the fire, I could see its reflection in his eyes, I clapped “thank you, and please, enjoy our land” he left but before completely disappearing in to the red desert which looked black as the universe above, he pointed up and said “look out” , I turned right to find the moon partially covered by the shadow of the earth and as red as the land I was on: “we are part of the shadow” I thought,  “overshadowing the moon”, it felt great to realize, as I gazed at the stars a little bit over to the right I saw the southern cross sitting in the middle of the milky way, it was vast and clear, the last and first time I saw the southern cross was in Yemen, when I was four, dad pointed it out to me, it was more magical now because it seems I am coming back to that time, to the time when my life was just beginning and the world opening up, as I thought about the opportunities and the shadow of the past passing over and disappearing the moon was clear and bright again; it was time for me to go.

Dingo:

I woke up to the extreme cold, it was 5am and I couldn’t tell what the actual temperature outside was but, getting out of the bed my bare feel went numb upon touching the floor, I quickly got back under the sheets and laid my head down, the tent’s roof was missing! The milky way was passing over me, “So that is why it’s so cold in here!” I told myself, “YUP” replied the Dingo, it circled my bed then turned into morning mist and seeped under the door.
    I woke up at 6am the alarm on my iPhone went off, it was nice and warm from the heat radiator I turned on before going to bed. Still pitch black outside I quickly got dressed and went towards the main tent. Outside I could smell the darkness,  every time of the day has a distinct feeling and mornings before sunrise feel crisp and fresh like snow, even in summer. Glen was waiting with coffee and ready to leave to meet sunrise by the great rock. He was one of the local tour guides in the area, most tour guides seem to be inexperienced or not from Australia at all, Glen was the real deal: he had a strong Aussie accent, his face and neck were bright red from too much sun and only he could pull off a crocodile hunter’s hat! We came to the base of the rock, a ascent point for climbers that was closed due to weather conditions.

“Aborigines people are the owners of the land and they don’t mind people climbing the rock, they just don’t see the need, there is no water or other resources on top” Glen explained, “they feel responsible for anyone coming to visit the land and take it closely to heart if someone is injured or killed, they need to perform passing ceremonies for the deceased and pray for his/hers family” that touched me deeply, I don’t know why but it made me shed a tear of sentimentality. We walked at the base of the rock, Glen was talking about deaths on the rock “most recent one was in April, a man in his mid 50’s climbed the rock he sat down and that was it, his heart stopped” he shook his head and added “with his wife watching the whole thing from here” he pointed down to where we were standing. He wasn’t very sentimental, he must have told that story hundreds of times, but you could still sense that it wasn’t a subject he could get used to. 


I asked him if he lived around here “yeah mate” he replied with a phrase that is just like a post card defines what it is to be an Aussie. And an Aussie he was, as I learned later he had two dingoes, a boy and a girl “I got them when they were pups, it’s the only way to raise them to be domesticated, its legal to have dingoes as pets as long as you fix them and keep them outside and on a leash, they make fantastic police dogs as well, can pick up any scent, better than any other dog, they should use them at the airports and borders”, I said “nothing says welcome to Australia better than a Dingo at the airport!” he laughed. “They live around here, at the base of the rock its good shelter and there is a water hole nearby” a little bit of pause and then Glen added “a few years back a local woman claimed that a dingo ate her baby, a week long search party looked for the remains with no luck the local court sentenced the woman to prison, everyone thought she killed the baby” I thought that was it.
     “Whether its good to climb the rock or not, everything has a good and a bad side” Glen said, I couldn’t understand where he was going with this, he went on “a backpacker decided to climb the rock at night, he was traveling alone and no one knew he was doing it. Well, he tripped or slipped, but in any case he died falling off, no one knew he was missing for 8 days, then someone reported him missing and his body was found.” “OK…” I replied “Oh No!” Glen exclaimed “that’s not it, his body was found next to a jacket, or what was left of it, it belonged to that missing baby, new forensic evidence proved that the baby was killed and eaten by a dingo, after spending years in prison the mother was released”, I didn’t know what to say.
    The area around Uluru was filled with people escorted by different tour guides that looked like they rather be anywhere else but here. We started heading for the car to take me to the airport, one of the tourist from another party behind us was talking about the rock and asking Glen random questions about the wild life, he looked and was more informed than their guide, I wasn’t really listening then someone said sarcastically “oh and dingos eat babies, ha ha ha” ...  “YUP” replied Glen.

Chicago Inspired

   

     Chicago: a city if never visited may be described as dangerous and classy at the same time, a great place to indulge yourself with a deep pan pizza and visit a theater to watch a play with a cast of actors that are on their way to success. One way or another everyone has their expectations and visions of a city before one day they get behind a wheel or jump on the bus to visit and experience the stories heard so many times before.

 Arriving in Chicago not knowing what to expect! It's a great city, famous for its crime and tall buildings but what more can it offer? As it turns out a breath taking experience.
   



     The streets of Chicago are never the same, a big commercial street with elaborate stores that provide not only window shopping fun but also inspiration to fashion crazed citizens. The streets turn into cross roads between a promenade that is decorated by small historic buildings at the base of modern skyscrapers, one of which is a chapel decorated with real candles, and a bridge with stairs leading down to the river for an easy access to water taxis. One of the water taxis takes you to a small dock that harbours cruise boats which have excellent architecture tours.
    As you ride and enjoy the humid breeze, one of the perks Chicago's climate has to offer, your mind takes a pause from all the haste and commotion of everyday life to have a mind of its own, it takes control of your body and soul to fill it with excitement, pose and inspiration, forces of which are stronger than that of a muse belonging to Michelangelo and da Vinci combined. Much of the buildings are tall and majestic, every one of them has a unique signature even if designed by the same genius. Located in the heart of the city - the river, presents the city at different angles , but the water adds a certain charm and feeling, it’s a symbol that the city is not a rock form a jungle of bricks and stones but a constant moving and living being.
     As you step off the boat and on to the street, still under control of your subconscious connected with thoughts equal only to the thoughts of the universal, they only way to look is up! There behind the fog that the city becomes wrapped in within minutes you can only guess when the top of the buildings end.  As you walk along the never ending streets the majestic giants appear one behind the other, looking down at you with grace and wisdom, you don’t feel afraid or claustrophobic, you feel honoured that the gate keepers allowed you to enter and share with them the secret of pride, beauty and strength that is Chicago!

Kathmandu, Nepal

As a volunteer you don’t expect anything, as a tourist you expect a lot.
Elliot one of the volunteer in Kathmandu came to build toilets for villagers in the Kathmandu Valley. Not as much toilets, more of drop hole and a septic tank (hole in the ground) At
the age of 21 he decided that traveling without any deed is
useless. “Come with no expectations” was one of the advices
almost any volunteer gives and its a good one. The living
conditions in Nepal are rough for those willing to live with
host families in rural areas. It is a matter of time before you
get used to an outside toilet, infinite amount of rice for
dinner, mosquitoes, the smell of cow manure, piles and
piles of garbage on the side of the road in the city and what
makes most of the landscape in the country side.

The kids in the villages have the luxury of going to school and with the help of teaching volunteers they get to learn English, but the commitment on the part of the educator should be great. “The teachers don’t really care, it seems that schools are a dumping ground for kids, giving parents space and time to work in the fields” Hellen came from the UK for 2 weeks to work with deaf kids. She seemed irritated “oh i don’t know how anyone can be a teacher, it is just so hard and annoying” and she wasn’t talking about working with the hearing impared but working as a teacher in general. “I was asked to tech a class for one of the teachers who didn’t feel like it, the class consists of 50 students ages 5 to 20, what is she nuts?” The kids sit on floors, some don’t know the basics and every single volunteer has to start from scratch with every student and there are 50 of them. 

Monte from Houston, Texas made a big commitment, coming to Nepal for 5 months to teach monks and also live at a monastery. “I am hoping that they will allow me to teach dance and art, I am a contemporary artist and have been brake dancing for a while now” After his mom died last year and re-evaluating his drug habits, Tibet made a lot of sense especially after reading The book of the dead “It changed my life” a Buddhist view on the after life. Quitting drugs (sort of) he is focusing on fusion of religions Nepal gathered from Tibet, India and China. (Assuming Tibet is its own country, and in this example it is :P) “What I was doing back home, contemporary art not a lot of people appreciate it and it was selfish, elitist, very good means to live outside of consumerist society. I just want to give back and learn from the experience” Monasteries in Nepal vary differently but some are more “pampered than the villages, people are more educated” The monks are very patient with Monte, “they engage in intellectual activities, they debate, solve math problems and they eat with spoons other than using hands, its a part of the Tibetan diet” 

 Being selfless in one retrospect is an amazing thing, and everyone in their lifetime should volunteer, but also know what exactly you are getting yourself into. “One of the volunteers was placed in a barn and rats ate her underwear” someone at the dinner table at OR2K said. Now this would sound funny back home, but when you are living in similar conditions and depend on the volunteer organisation to place you with a host family a statement like that is frightening. Surely one of the girls from that night was placed in a home with rats in her room. Experiences like that make for a good conversation, and the best place to tell them is OR2K, a cliche in a sense, every volunteer, tourist or passer by that has ever been to Kathmandu hanged out at OR2K, it’s an all vegetarian, take your shoes off before coming in, sit on the floor and trip out under the black light cafe.
 You should expect to:
-step into a pile of trash or avoid one, but not the smell
-get comfortable with cows having priority on the road, not people.
-blend together “Om Mani Padme Hum” chant, honking and spitting/throat clearing sounds.
-be enlightened with the vast amounts of temples and religious literature.
-overwhelm your senses with magnificent food, beautiful mountain views and admiration  for the kindness of people.
-fall in love with every Nepali child you see.

 Nepal brings together people from different backgrounds, religions, countries etc. There is no logic or rationality only feelings and emotions. Everyone is overwhelmed with everything and everyone. This is a place of peace, chaos, love, desperation. To understand what it is to actually LIVE- Nepal is a fundamental stepping stone. And if you find joy and peace amongst all the worst and best things that Kathmandu brought together... then you are ready to find it within yourself and truly call yourself Happy!

Lovable Doll

        Loving a doll is extremely easy, just as it is easy to write on a smooth surface, drink tasteless water, paint over white with color. Emptiness is what makes it easy, but also superficial. When I was just a little girl my favorite thing was a Barbie doll, she would look great in everything i dressed her in and she was easy to deal with, her features never seamed to get old. Lack of character however made in impossible for me to satisfy my need for creative growth, so one day i decided to cut her hair and see what happens. When I asked my mom for scissors she replied "Maria, don't do it, you wont love her anymore" and that is exactly what happened, the moment her silky fake hair fell to the floor there was only a day left of my so called fondness for Barbie, and I think Kent secretly wanted to get a divorce.
      That is exactly the kind of image I grew up with, beautiful is easy and beautiful is the only thing that makes sense.  Now of course there is a lot of things that hold true when it comes to love and beauty: genes, a primal instinct and a whole grocery bag of hormones control our view and thought on what is attractive or not; shiny hair, slim figure smooth complexion are all part of good reproductive health. This explanation has been the cornerstone of my excuse of why I carry a compact in my purse, why I'm always on a diet, my obsession with perfect fitting designers clothes and my judgment of people who do not take care good care of them selves. This was my way of thinking for the first half of an adult life until I decided to put all the prejudices aside and get a tattoo. As I was lying in bed a few hours after the artwork on my back stopped bleeding, I thought about the reaction from friends and family. Being vain my entire life, people surrounding me are safe to say were alike, and the more I tried to change the harder it was, their perception of me as a lovable doll was stronger than my desire to become a simple nice person. It is a prejudice I had to battle within myself as well, that people who get tattoos have less morality and beauty.
     Tattoos, haircuts, scaring even amputation are all body modifications, that change a person one way or another, pleasurable or through hardship, and in terms of looking at each other from an "animalistic" point of view is primal and not necessary. We evolved if not from primates then from a wild form of human, we developed compassion, trust, love, guilt; we developed consciousness. We are aware of other people more than we are aware of the wild planet we inhabit, we see "souls", personalities and character, we make a judgment call based on actions and words. Our primal days are not over, and never will be, but they were also never about vanity. My tattoo shows my passion for what I believe, a blue ribbon, a ribbon that is attached to quality and raises awareness for child abuse, non of which are based on looks, but rather on principal and virtue. It is easy to love a doll, a doll doesn't have flaws but also it doesn't have attributes that makes it unique and interesting and worth living for.