Narrator – away from home

Like my father, I travelled from my mother country to another continent to have a better life. I didn’t want to wander around Europe but I decided to live in Amsterdam – a city where men may love men. Finally this intention worked out exactly reversed.

Via the parents of Arjen – named Arjuna by me – I received documents and a visa for the Netherlands. I left my name Kṛṣṇa behind in Kenya. In this way I hoped to leave behind the dark pages in my life in which I lived with the hungry ghosts in hell. This was not successful: in my dreams and in my stories these pages returned for a long time.

[1]

In my passport I have listed as first name Narrator [2]; like my father I wished to have the role of storyteller in life’s story for the audience. As a tribute to my father, I provided the surname Nārāyana [3].

At the end of the school year I resigned as indwelling teacher at the school. I said goodbye to Arjen and his parents and I thanked them for all the help. One of the teachers at school introduced me to a driver who regularly travelled via Nakuru and Lodwar to Jūbā in South Sudan. The driver made contact with a colleague who drove to Khartoum – the capital of Sudan [4]. In Khartoum I could travel to Wadi Halfa, just before the border with Egypt.

My experience and instinct as a soldier were helpful at a roadblock. With yet another bend to go, the driver noticed a checkpoint in the distance just before a town. The driver could not justify my presence. In the bend I could slip out of the truck. Via a detour through the scrub I entered the town. There I met the driver again to continue our travel.

At Wadi Halfa I could start as indwelling servant on a tourist boat on Lake Victoria. This boat travelled to the North. At Abu Simbil I visited the Temple of Ramses II. Here I saw images of rulers from lost times who were venerated as idols in their hubris. On my trip along the Nile I noticed more forms of pride – as dust particles in the universe. At school I learned the first commandment according to the Catholic format from the sisters: “Thou shalt not worship idols, but worship only Me and above all love me”. This “Me” always remained for me the starry Night and the Moon. These images of idols were no match for the sight of the night sky at new moon.

[5]

In Egypt I travelled the Nile with different boats. On the way I saw several pyramids at a distance – for me pointers to the starry Night and the Moon.

[6]

I could pass the Nile delta by boat to Alexandria. In the library of Alexandria, I read all the stories of Scheherazade – the narrator of the stories from “Thousand and one Night”. Every night she came back to life like the Moon was brought to life by the God Engaï [7] in the Maasai myth.

From Alexandria I left Africa. As my father never returned to India, I never came back in Africa. My mother was not able to come to Amsterdam, because she could not leave her herd. I dared not to ask my father, because I was afraid that he would never go back to my mother: I could not inflict that on her.

---

[1] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hel_(mythologie)

[2] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narrator

[3] Nārāyana means in Sanskrit: “”Son of the original man”. Source: electronic version of the dictionary Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[4] In Sanskrit “Su” means amongst others “supreme, good, excellent, beautiful, easy” and “Dān” means “to be, making straight.

[5] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aboe_Simbel

[6] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Pyramid_of_Giza

[7] According to a Maasai myth the God Engaï gives cattle to the people and he brings people to life after their death and each day he lets the Moon die. After a sin wherein an opponent was desired death, Engaï lets people die and each night he brought the Moon to life. Source:  http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masa%C3%AF_(volk)

Narrator – back on earth

The fire in the forest [1] burned all night. The next morning it still smouldered; in the late afternoon the fire finally died. The nocturnal massacre on the edge of the forest yielded nothing. The smell of burned forest mingled with the smell of dead bodies and blowflies were everywhere.

At the beginning of the next moonless night I left the militia. I walked the whole night. I followed the destination [2] of my name Kṛṣṇa [3] – in that moonless night I escaped alive from hell and I evaded the death of Engaï [4]. Later I understood that a few months later the militia was massacred by the army of the country. Just before the first sunlight I discarded my uniform and weapon.

[5]

The next day I traded some belongings from the militia against clothes. In just over a week I moved to my mother’s pastures [6]. Through information of acquaintances I found her temporary residence.

[7]

She saw me at a distance and my younger brothers and sisters ran to me. My mother was so happy until she saw my eyes – dark and cold as the night. She saw in my face the fire in the forest, my movements reflected the hungry ghosts and she smelled the hell on my skin. I received food and shelter, but the next morning she sent me away with the words: “You took from the world, now you must give back to the world. Afterwards you will be welcome as guest.”

By foot I went to the capital. On the outskirts of the city I received a non-paid post as indwelling teacher on a school. During the hours I helped pupils with their work and outside school time I went to the library for study. My English and Sanskrit improved tremendously and I learned and practised the important epic stories so I could start as storyteller – like my father.

[8]

In the city I met the most beautiful men on whom I secretly fell in love. After a year I encountered my first love – so normal, so obvious, so salvaged. His name was Arjen; I called him Arjuna [9]. His parents moved from Netherlands to Nairobi for their work. Outwardly we were only friends, secretly we were lovers. His skin was much lighter; he studied at the University. I helped him with Sanskrit; He helped me with English, French and German.

Two years later we visited my mother. She greeted me as her lost son. All my brothers and sisters were so joyful to see me. A few days later my father came along and we were happy.

My mother saw immediately that Arjen and I were more than just friends. To protect me against the overwhelming forces that a love between young men evokes in her country, she sent me away to a city in a distant land where men may love men. In this way she bridged [10] the dilemma between her world order and duty and human action [11]. She called the name of the city: Amsterdam. A few days later I left. Never I visited my parents again, but they accompany me wherever I go.

---

[1] See for the fire in the Khandava forest: http://www.sacred-texts.com/hin/maha/index.htm book 1 Section CCXXVII and also: Katz, Ruth Cecily, Arjuna in the Mahābhārata: Where Krishna is, there is victory. Delhi: Molital Banarsidass Publishers, 1990,  p. 71 – 84

[2] In Sanskrit  nāmadheya means next to  “name” or “title” also “designation”. Source: Maurer, Walter Harding, The Sanskrit Language, An Introductory Grammar and Reader. London: Routledge Curson, 2004 Deel II p. 771

[3] Kṛṣṇa means in Sanskrit amongst other “black”, “black blue”, “dark period of the mooncycle” Source: electronic version of the dictionaire Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[4] According to a Maasai myth the God Engaï gives cattle to the people and he brings people to life after their death and each day he lets the Moon die. After a sin wherein an opponent was desired death, Engaï lets people die and each night he brought the Moon to life. Source:  http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masa%C3%AF_(volk)

[5] Source image: http://ki.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Sunrise_over_Mount_Kenya.jpg

[6] In het Sanskriet betekent “nama” “weidegrond” (voor een nomadenvolk is dit een vorm van bestemming). Bron: elektronische versie van het woordenboek Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[7] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masa%C3%AF_(volk)

[8] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenya

[9] Arjuna is one of the main characters in the Mahābhārata. He is one of the five brothers who live together with one wife Draupadi – the most beautiful and influential wife of her time – in polyandry. The five brother fight for their rightful share of the kingdom, for the honour of Draupadi and for maintenance of the world order. The name Arjuna means amongst others “wit, clear, silver”; one may recognise also “arh” in the name meaning “worthy, capable of”.

[10] In Sanskrit the word “yuj” means also “link, tie, prepare, order”

[11] In the Bhagavad Gita – a small and old part of the Mahābhārata – Krishna – the charioteer – encourages  Arjuna to start the battle wherein families, teachers and pupils stand opposite each other in the warfare between world order and duty (Dharmakshetra) en human behaviour (Kurukshetra). Dharmakshetra consists of  Dharma meaning “place of continuous self/Self”, and  “kshetra” – literally: field. Kurukshetra consists of Kuru – a conjugation of “kr” meaning “to make, to do or to act” and “kshetra” – literally: field.

Narrator – from heaven to hell

In my youth I lived in heaven. At that time I had five obstacles in my life: my clothes got dirty, my body changed, my armpits sweated , my body smelled and life was sometimes uncomfortable [1]. My mother took care that my clothes, my armpits and my body were washed when we had enough water in the dry land. This was a feast. Changes of our body belong to human life; when the changes are over and the pains are forgotten, the situation is back to normal. And a sober, simple life does not always include comfort.

[2]

During my school time I sometimes adorned as warrior, more for fun and vanity than to prepare for battle. As student I was not interested in fighting.

[3]

At the end of my school time I moved from my motherland. I craved for the adventures as told in the stories of my ancestors and I felt an urge for comfort, money, fame and power. Or in the language of my ancestors: I wished to change from Nara [4] to Rājan [5].

While everyone was asleep, I left my mother; I left a note behind with the message that everything would be all right and that she could be proud of me.

After a few days wandering, I encountered a militia. I jointed them. I received an uniform with a weapon and I was trained to military just as the heroes from the Kṣhatriya [6] or warriors/rulers caste in the Mahābhārata.

[7]

I was not a strong soldier, but I was smart and fast and I immediately saw what was needed. The leaders of the militia saw this too: I was driver of the leader of the militia. Like Kṛṣṇa in the Bhagavad Gita [8] I was charioteer and advisor.

Similar to a charioteer on the chariot I was cook, I gave advise in battle, I encouraged, I offered protection in emergency, I rescued from difficult situations and afterwards I told the heroics of the fighters.

By the transition to the militia, I left heaven and I entered the world of hungry ghosts and the extremely painful world of hell. My life went from peace to war, from love and care to violence.

At the end of one night we set the forest surrounding a village on fire. The God of fire and the wind spread the flames. Our militia shot with joy at everyone and everything that came out of the forest and we were happy [9].

In daylight the disillusionment followed. We saw that we had killed everything and everyone from new-born to the elderly. Hereafter I left the world of hungry ghosts and hell.

---

[1] From: Cleary Thomas, The Undying Lamp of Zen – The testament of Zen Master Torei. Boston: Shambhala, 2010. Voetnoot 3 op p. 23

[2] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people

[3] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people

[4] In Sanskrit “nara” literally means “someone who does not rejoice”. This word is used for an ordinary man.

[5] “Rājan” means in Sanskrit “rejoice in birth/origin”. This word is used for someone from royal or military caste. Source: elektronische versie van het woordenboek Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta.

[6] For the caste system in India see amongst others: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caste_system_in_India

[7] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_use_of_children

[8] For an introduction of the Bhagavad Gita that is a small part of the Mahābhārata: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhagavad_Gita. A good introduction for a translation Sanskrit – English: Sargeant, Winthrop, The Bhagavad Gȋtâ. Albany: State New York University Press, 1994. An introduction of a religious – yoga – background: Yogananda, Paramahansa, The Bhagavad Gȋtâ. Los Angelas: Self-Realization Fellowship, 2001

[9] See the last part of book 1 of the Mahābhārata where  at the fire in the Khandava forest, Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa shoot arrows with joy to all that leaves the forest. Sources: http://www.sacred-texts.com/hin/maha/index.htm boek 1 Section CCXXVII and further; Katz, Ruth Cecily, Arjuna in the Mahābhārata: Where Krishna is, there is victory. Delhi: Molital Banarsidass Publishers, 1990, p. 71 – 84

Narrator – my origin

Unimaginably long ago I arose from the sound of falling rain in the blowing wind and the clattering of tumbling pebbles. With the rain the rhythm was created, by the wind my voice arose and with the tumbling pebbles the applause started. Stories emerged from the rhythm and the wind. Esteem started by the applause with the urge to seek the attention again and again.

My entire life I tell stories about life and death, about wars, greed, courage and loyalty, about love, revenge, honour, glory and wrath, icy wrath that brought countless horrors.

Since I was saved by Carla Drift from a dream in which I almost slipped to another world, I tell stories for improving discussions and insights on the interfaces between philosophy, literature and religion. Thus, I hope to contribute to a better world, peace and happiness for everyone and everything. This is the summary of the biography of my life.

In this summary my first remembrance is missing in which I heard my father singing in a language from the country from where he had left to Africa. This song sounds so familiar as if I already knew it  from the beginning of time. My father has told me that this chant is called the īśāvāsya [1] upaniṣad or the Isha Upanishad [2] in his country of origin. When I was four years old, my father taught me the text while I sat beside him [3].

ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात् पूर्णमुदच्यते।
पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते॥
ॐ शांतिः शांतिः शांतिः॥

Ôm, Purnamadah Purnamidam Purnat Purnamudachyate;
Purnasya Purnamadaya Purnameva Vashishyate.
Ôm shanti, shanti, shanti

Ôm, that is overall. This is overall. Overall comes from overall.

Take overall from overall and thus remains overall.

Ôm peace, peace, peace.

The chant of the  īśāvāsya upaniṣad can be listened via an annex to this post on the website of the publisher: http://www.omnia-amsterdam.com [4].

My father is dark as the night. He was born and raised in a poor southern part of India. At school he fluently learned Sanskrit: the language of the Gods in the world of women/men. All my grandparents and grand-grandparents spoke this language. As a young adult man my father travelled to Kenya in Africa to wander as storyteller and to have a better life. In this country he met my mother.

My mother is a proud woman from the Maasai nomads tribe. She does not know any borders; all the land is for everyone and the cattle needs food and care. She met my father as a young woman. He was starving and she took pity on him. Between them a love arose that transcends our existence. They go together through life; my father remains wandering as storyteller and my mother gives care and shelter when he is passing by. Here-from I came on Earth.

My first name is Kṛṣṇa [5] because I am dark as the night like my father with my black blue skin and because I was born during the dark period of the moon. My parents expressed the hope that I may awake every night again like the Moon and may not die like all other people [6]. Later in my life I changed my first name in Narrator, because I wish to belong to the mortals. My family name from my father’s side is Nārāyana. This means in the language of my ancestors: “Son of the original man”. [7]

[8]

Around my sixth year, my father brought me to school. There I learned to read and write. I never ceased reading. I read Gilgamesh, Iliad, Odyssey, Mahābhārata, Shakespeare in the last classes of school while the other students played warrior. Many of my stories stem from this time.

[9]

Until my 16th birth day I stayed at school. Then stark dark pages came into my life.

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[1] Īśa means among others in Sanskrit “God in the heaven of the Gods”, “one with almightiness”. “Avāsya” means “putting down”. Hereby īśāvāsya can be understood as a description of God in the heaven of Gods. Source: electronic version of the dictionary Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[2] A literal translation of the Isha Upanishad in Dutch can be obtained via the following hyperlink: http://www.arsfloreat.nl/documents/Isa.pdf

[3] Upanishad literally means: “Sitting down near”. See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Upanishads

[4] The author doesn’t know the origin of this mp3 file. When the owner makes her-/himself known to the author, the post will be amended to the wishes of the right holders in this question.

[5] Kṛṣṇa means amongst others “black”, “black blue”, “the dark period of the moon cycle”. Source electronic version of the dictionary Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[6] According to a Maasai myth the God Engaï gives cattle to the people and he brings people to life after their death and each day he lets the Moon die. After a sin wherein an opponent was desired death, Engaï lets people die and each night he brought the Moon to life. Source:  http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masa%C3%AF_(volk)

[7] Source electronic version of the dictionary Monier-Williams – MWDDS V1.5 Beta

[8] A Maasai woman. Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people

[9] Source image: http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasa%C3%AF

Manuscript “Carla Drift – An outlier” available

Omnia – Amsterdam Publisher has received the manuscript for the biography “Carla Drift – An outlier”. This biography is composed by Narrator based upon the bundled posts on this weblog:

“Who are you – a survey into our existence”

The manuscript is available for download on the website of the Publisher:

www.omnia-amsterdam.com

The manuscript in Pdf-format is 10 Mb and 115 pages. Printing of the manuscript is allowed for own use or for educational purposes under the Creative Commons License.

Omnia – Amsterdam Publisher will issue this biography as e-book in Pdf-format at the end of the summer.

Carla Drift – Looking back at my innocence

Before we started the quest for “Who are you”, I told Narrator in a few words about my youth – the years of my innocence.

“There was once a girl that was so clever that everywhere she was an outlier. She surpassed all the knowledge of her environment. This girl was so wise to show this special gift to nobody. Very soon she discovered that this gift completely confused her environment. Now and then she showed a glimpse whereof she thought.

In elementary school children learned to add, multiply and divide. This girl already calculated in the infinite or in the uncountable as she called it. Countable was all that fitted within a box of the “knowable”. Hereby she thought about the matchbox in which she formerly had caught a grasshopper.

[1]

When the class learned to count until ten, the content of the Matchbox was ten for her. For the class innumerable was at that time “ten plus one”. When the class learned to count until one hundred, from then on countable was one hundred; “hundred and one” was innumerable and so on as far as the classmates could count.

The countable and therefore the knowable grew along with the knowledge of the classroom and the innumerable became bigger and bigger. This girl learned that the countable – so the content of the matchbox “L” – changed along the changes of the environment. The uncountable was then still “L+1”. This girl started to add the countable, so when for the class L was equal to ten, the girl decided to place ten matchboxes in a row: for her “10 times L” was equal to one hundred; infinite was then ten matchboxes plus 1. She placed hundred matchboxes in a row and “hundred times 10” or “1000” was countable and infinite was “hundred boxes plus 1”. She did the same with boxes that were getting smaller like Russian dolls. Infinitesimal was one size smaller than the smallest knowable.

[2]

And zero was an empty table without any box or doll. She wrote this as “O”. This was very easy for her.

For simplicity, this girl decided to write the infinite as “L + 1”; This was equal to the largest box plus one or the greatest number of knowable boxes plus 1.

Now this girl was so far that she saw infinitely – or L + 1 – as a matchbox of all knowable plus one. She began in the first class of primary school to calculate with the infinite, which was also an outlier that fell outside the knowable. For infinite the same rules applied, but it the infinite was still outside the knowable of the others: in this way she remained in touch with arithmetic lessons of her classmates. The ordinary multiplication tables were applicable for the infinite and normal division rules applied to the division of the infinite – a piece of cake. Increases the knowable and the infinite is just slightly larger; decrease the smallest knowable and the infinitesimal small is just slightly smaller.

According to her the infinite or L + 1 was the evidence for the existence of God on the Catholic primary school. God could adopt all dimensions depending on the circumstances required, but God himself was larger than the knowable so he remained all encompassing. If the changes increased rapidly, God also increased quickly and vice versa. And because God was all encompassing or L + 1, God took the required form immediately. In this way the girl derived and integrated in the second class of elementary school. The most beautiful thing was that God was no foreigner, he was also an outlier just like her. God made woman and man (as knowable) like his image – also the outliers like her were created like his image. She made the knowable slightly larger because she was an outlier. Later she adjusted her view on God.

In the second class of elementary school she read in a book from the library – that was smuggled through her father – about primes. she decided to look at primes as matchboxes for calculation purposes. According to her new calculation method the core numbers were L, 2L, 3l, 5l, 7l, 11l, 13L, 17L, 19L and so on as primes. With these primes all known matchboxes could be created [3].

In the fourth grade of elementary school she saw in the library at the Department of mathematics a book on Gödel. In this book she read Gödel’s two incompleteness theorems [4]. She borrowed this book via her father. By naming L + 1 she already knew the first incompleteness theorem and with her new calculation method – whereby she used the core numbers L, 2 L, 3 l, 5 l, 7 l, 17 l, 11L, 13L, 19L according to the sequence of primes – she saw immediately the second incompleteness theorem; we can never prove the whole arithmetic L because there will be always a L + 1. This evidence is a piece of cake.

She purposely made a few mistakes in long divisions [5] in order to appear normal.

In the fifth and sixth class of primary school a new schoolmaster let her read the book “Cosmic View, The Universe in 40 Jumps” by Kees Boeke. With her father she studied astronomy and microscopy. She calculated the Kepler orbits on her own. In a course mechanics within theoretical physics [6] at the University of Technology in Delft, she saw these calculations again. One of the two authors was an outlier [7] in the field of mathematics and physics.”

[8]

After this brief description of my years of innocence in elementary school, Narrator and I decided to start the quest “Who are you” together. During the preparations we invited Man Leben – after the death of his second life companion – to go along. He accepted the invitation “With hope and consolation”.

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[1] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Match

[2] Source image: http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fichier:Floral_matryoshka_set_1.JPG

[3] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prime_number

[4] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G%C3%B6del%27s_incompleteness_theorems

[5] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_division

[6] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Course_of_Theoretical_Physics

[7] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lev_Landau

[8] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Course_of_Theoretical_Physics

Carla Drift – Nomadic existence 3

At the end of the summer holidays, the school board did not need a teacher for math and science. I decided to move on. After the black page in my history, I was not interested in trekking. Life was dull and weary, like a meal that tasted like putty. But I had to move on. There was no other choice: I did not belong at the place where I was. The days were stringing together. Autumn started and it was soon dark before the evening meal. The hills showed themselves in a dark red glow like clotted blood.

[1]

That year the winter started early. In end of November it froze solid and snow was falling. In early December I found a man lying in sleeping bag far too thin for that time of the year. The man had a dark blue colour, but now he was pale. By the hypothermia he was not approachable. With difficulty I moved him into my caravan. I put the heating on, put him in my bed and laid down beside him. For first time, I was pleased with a hot flash by the transition. After a few hours the man was still nauseated and shaky. I made something to eat and to drink. With great reluctance he eat and drank. Every a few hours I have repeated this action. The next day we moved to a winter camping. The owner looked suspiciously at the man with the appearance of a wanderer. On this camp-ground we washed his clothes. He showered  and I cut his hair and trimmed his beard. Now he looked presentable again. Now I had a goal in my life again, although temporally.

In my youth I cared for my sisters without success and for my dolls with success, but that did not count. Later I had nobody to care for. I only had to look after myself – a lonely bird did not know otherwise. During my research others sometimes took care of my safety. But now I had someone to care for – a proud man.

He was born in Africa around 1960. His mother cared for him, for his brothers and sisters and for his father. His father was an wandering storyteller who received care and shelter when he visited his mother. Then he told his adventures and everyone was happy.

At school he learned reading and writing from the nuns. The rest of his life, he visited every library for food for thought. From his father he learned storytelling.

With the change from boy to young man, he noticed that he fell in love with other young men. His mother sent him away to a country where men may love other men. After a long trip he arrived in Amsterdam. His life was a feast. His exotic fragrance wafted through the city: he met the best and most beautiful lovers. But also in this city he slept in the open air – on a balcony or with all windows open if he was with someone. From an exotic young man, he became an older man with greying hair and a flax beard. The love floated as fast as the years. This spring he started to drift; his wanderer’s existence began. In his biography more about his life.

[2]

Still he could not and he did not want to sleep under a roof; the first nights after our meeting he was far too weak for objections – I left a small light on. For the next cold nights we painted the starry sky in luminous paint on the inside of the roof of the caravan: in the dark it seemed as if we were under the starry sky. When the weather was good, we slept outside.

Together we moved on that winter. We told each other of our adventures. I also told in vague wordings about the black page in my history. He told his dark pages. We did not have a relationship: he loved men and I was closed in this area.

The following post is about the start of our Odyssey.

---

[1] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herfst

[2] Source image: processing in several ways of a photo.

Carla Drift – Nomadic existence 2

A new nomadic existence began after the (temporal) goodbye to the village of my youth – now an existence without purpose. Since my childhood I always had a motive to an end. In elementary school I read adventures about knights and adventurers and I wanted to know everything about the universe and about biology. In high school literature, mathematics and natural sciences were added. As the oldest daughter it was my duty to set an example. In Delft, I was preoccupied by my study natural sciences and I lost myself in a love affair; both were a dead-end path. With humanities I found a new point of focus in Amsterdam. My work in this area occupied me completely, and research in the tropics took a part of my health. Behind the wheel on the tractor I suddenly had no goal, except the road ahead.

Spring had started and I drove to the South in the direction of the sun. The road went to France via Belgium. The first few days my new nomadic existence occupied me fully. In my student days I had made long treks on my bike to South Europe. The humming of the bicycle tires was my companion, now the rumble of the diesel engine was my company. After a few hours this monotone sound along with the vibration of the tractor was quite tiring. With my temperate health I had to look for accommodation after three or four hour drive around mid-afternoon. Sometimes it was a camping place, often I camped in the wild.

[1]

Almost always I met nice and helpful people; I spoke with them about my trek and sometimes we told about each other’s lives. Travelling on my own I saw many special things: a cock between a group of ducks. A few days I travelled with a woman with a parrot on her shoulder. We went the same way this part of our journey. Her bike was placed in the caravan and she and her parrot sat next to me on the tractor. She started to drift after her divorce and the death of her ex-husband. So hard for her to choose between the relief and the grief of losing. The Parrot was her companion for conversation and together they did performances on market places for their living. I think they were for another part dependent on charity and begging, but we did not talk about this.

[2]

This extraordinary woman gave me the idea to juggle for some earnings. During daytime I started practicing. Over time I mastered the art of juggling with three balls and three clubs. With these acts I could do the beginning and middle of my performance; the apotheosis was the dancing stick [3] with burning tips.

[4]

By a helpful man who helped me with a flat tyre of my caravan, I came in touch with a board of a school that immediately needed a lecturer mathematics until the summer holidays. A day later I was teacher of mathematics.

The first lesson I asked who knew what a derivative and an integral meant. Fortunately, many students could tell how it was done: luckily they had learned it well. But no one could answer me what these actions meant. I explained that these particular mathematical acts were addition and subtraction in a specific manner. The students laughed at me in disbelief because they thought this statement was absurd. A derivative is the manner whereby the change of a function is reduced or increased over a certain way/time – so it is a special way of addition and subtraction. An integral is the manner in which the increase or decrease takes place over a certain way or time – therefore also a special way of addition and subtraction. After some examples from physics and everyday life, their curiosity was aroused for mathematics.

[5]

The next school year there was a need for a teacher for physics. This class did not like physics at all. Several opinion leaders preferred computer war-games. I kept hidden that I knew the consequences of wars far too well – again playing hide and seek.

I chose a different approach; I asked what they knew about physics. In response, I started a round of arm wrestling with the strongest boy: fortunately I won. The warmongers I showed a photo of a fighter plane that passed the sound barrier emerging with a lens-shaped condensation cloud. The ecologists I showed photos of solar cars. These topics nicely fitted within the subjects for physics for that school year.

[6]

After half a year the solar cars was calculated, the warmongers knew what a bullet trajectory, energy and impact was, and they learned the meaning of momentum with arm wrestling. At the end of my year in this class I had another round of arm wrestling: now the young man won, as it should.

[7]

A short time after the second interim period, a dark page was written in the history of my life. Someone attacked my honour and my life. By self-defence I saved my life. According to my feeling and reason this act was legally and ethically permissible, but I crossed the border of moral crimes investigator to a person committing such an act. Emotionally I stood between doers of these crimes. I had lost my innocence; a part of me had died.

A winter followed in which I met Narrator.

News

My publisher has its new website available:

www.omnia-amsterdam.nl

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[1] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camping

[2] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Papegaaien

[3] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devil_sticks

[4] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jongleren

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mathematics

[6] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natuurkunde

[7] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zonnewagen

Carla Drift – Nomadic existence

I cannot write more about my work in the area of crimes against humanity, because I will bring other people and myself in great danger. With state secrets, secret services, authorities and powers which have added stark dark pages to history, one cannot be too careful.

In Western Europe, many people think that this dark pages are written by authorities and powers in distant countries. From South Limburg I did not have to travel far. South Limburg itself had never had many ambitions to fulfil a role in world history, maybe robber gangs like the “buck riders” [1] added a few footnotes to history. I leave further research into black pages in history by South Limburg to others.

[2]

From my village in South Limburg I did not need to travel far for a number of my investigations. With a few hours walk to the East, I arrived in Germany with crimes against humanity during the Second World War. With a few hours walking to the West, Belgium is located with Congo as black pages in history; in elementary school we only learned the abuses against fathers and sisters and massacres of innocent believers, but later more became known [3]. To the North, Holland is located with its dark history in the slave trade. Also dark pages were written during the suppression of rebellions in Indonesia [4] where a President of the Council of Ministers [5] in his early years has personally played an active role. Finally – against the wishes of Holland – Indonesia became independent after a war that was called police actions [6] in Holland. I was involved in investigation into war-crimes during this war. Furthermore I have done research on all seven continents – also in Australia with Aborigines and in North America with the world power.

[7]

After every research in the tropics, I came home exhausted and sick. Luckily I still had places at home where I could recover. In Amsterdam I had my room in the house of friends of Man and me for a long time. When I came home in South Limburg there were always happy faces – when I came and when I went again; I was always greeted as the prodigal daughter but I was too independent and bold – “vreg”; the pastor, the Mayor and the City Council noticed this pretty fast. In short, several temporary places to recover and to make preparations for new investigations with all adventures involved. Always under a disguise playing a game of hide-and-seek in order not to be unmasked with all fatal consequences involved.

About 10 years ago, I left my room in Amsterdam, because the friends of Man and I decided to live in a smaller apartment at their old age. Their beautiful house in the Centre of Amsterdam was sold. I left my room with a rucksack, a sleeping bag, a bivouac sack, lightweight camping gear and some clothes. All my books were in the University libraries – with a number of library cards easily accessible. I sold my other belongings. All in all, an enormous wealth.

Several years ago I came back from a research in the tropics – but now I was seriously ill. I did not recover fully: after small efforts I was quickly tired. I noticed in my body and soul that tropics years counted double; After some 20 years in the tropics I had reached my retirement at the age of 50 years old . With my savings and some small consultancies, I could bridge the time until my “state pension”.

After a nomadic existence of researcher with recovery periods in Amsterdam with friends and in South Limburg with family, I was now dependent on a new place to live. In South Limburg I did belong any longer in the society of the village where I grew up – I left too long ago. My father and mother were proud grandparents of the children of both my sisters. These nephews and nieces were almost independent – two were studying, one was craftsman and the youngest was still following high school. My sisters were happily married with nice partners. My friend from my childhood was well either. He came along when I was in Amsterdam for a visit to world city with all its challenges. Sometimes he visited me abroad. How welcome the home nest in South Limburg might appear, I did not belong there any more.

I was a nomad, but a nomad who needed a roof during bad weather and cold nights. Through friends I bought a caravan that was adapted for wintertime.

[8]

There was another problem: I had no driving licence and I did not want to get one. Trough acquaintances in South Limburg, I bought a small tractor. My father checked the tractor on shortcomings. I think no tractor was ever so thoroughly checked, because my father intuitively felt that this might be one of the last things he could do for me – his problem child and apple of his eye.

[9]

The village waved me goodbye when I left with tractor – caravan combination and I waved back, again only happy faces. The following post is about the treks with this tractor – caravan combination.

News

My publisher has its new website available:

www.omnia-amsterdam.nl

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[1] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bokkenrijders

[2] Source image:  http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bokkenrijders

[3] See also: Reybrouck, David Van, “Congo – Een geschiedenis van”. Amsterdam: De Bezige Bij, 2010

[4] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atjehoorlog

[5] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hendrikus_Colijn

[6] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Politionele_acties

[7] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aborigines_(Australi%C3%AB)

[8] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caravan_(aanhangwagen)

[9] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tractor

Carla Drift – Behaviour 3

People accept tensions and feelings of injustice (or perceived injustice) to a certain extend. They adapt themselves to these tensions or (perceived) humiliations. Examples are: those who see their life completely change after a defeat, those who must live within a society that doesn’t fit their needs, those who are dominated by a dictatorial regime that never seems to end.

Very long, people can tolerate this tension and discontent until a breakpoint is reached. Suddenly a tipping point of no return arises. Man revolts [1]

[2]

A situation that was still bearable before the tipping point, suddenly is absurd and unbearable. The social inhibitions, the normal rule of justice and the ethical principles are temporarily abolished. Suddenly everything is permitted to end these tensions and the feelings of (supposed) injustice.

A primary form of extreme rebellion is seen when a man suddenly acts extremely violent whereby all forms of social behaviour, legal norms and common ethics are put aside. Usually family, friends, acquaintances and society have not foreseen this violent action in any way. After the violent act, they try to explain the extreme behaviour – the explanation is usually more meant to restore mutual trust than to clarify this particular flare-up of violence. This primary form of rebellion is found in all times and in all societies. In Indonesia and Malaysia, these unexpected acts of violence – whereby the rebel attacks all and everyone in his way – is indicated by “amok”. In the Western world all amok-rebels, if they survive their deeds, end in a psychiatric asylum where often no apparent mental disorder is found for this murderous behaviour [3]. We see this manner of primary rebellion in persons who start shooting with a firearm at a crowd or within a school without any reason.

Another primary form of extreme revolt is seen in a small group of people who suddenly do not accept their (perceived) injustice. They rebel against their situation. Examples are: lynchings and murders against individuals or small groups that exceed any form of case-law, norms and ethics. In Dutch history an example of this rebellion is the murder of the brothers de Witt by a mob in The Hague [4].

A weakened form of rebellion are rioting by supporters. These riots of supporters are of all times. An example of riots of supporters that eventually culminate in a serious rebellion, is the Nika revolt [5] in Constantinople in 532 A.C. where 30,000 people lost their lives. Small riots during chariot racing occurred often in that time; after these riots convictions of arrested participants followed. In January 532 A.C. two escaped convicts of these riots sought refuge in the sanctuary of a church under protection of a crowd. The position of Emperor Justinian was weakened by political problems. He wanted to assert his authority and the convicts were arrested again. During the next chariot races serious riots broke out in the hippodrome. The Emperor decided to flee, but Empress Theodora said: “It is not important if a woman must say to men to behave brave. One must do what one can in the event of danger. Flight is foolish. Everyone must die once and I have decided to die as Empress” (and not as a refugee). Two generals – with their battle hardened Germanic troops – decided to crush the rebellion. Hereto they lured a part of the rebellions out of the hippodrome with money coins. The remaining 30,000 rebellions were massacred in hippodrome by the troops .

[6]

In the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, I always visit the place for the Empress in the women’s gallery. From her place I see the sanctuary and from the ground floor, I look to the women’s gallery: “Empress for once and for always”.

[7]

A complete society can accept tensions and feelings of (perceived) injustice to a certain degree. Until the tipping point, the situation is seen as perfectly normal. Everyone has a suitable place until the rapid change occurs in society. The outward cause for the tipping point often seems a tiny issue for an outsider.

At the end of the 18th century the Ancient Regime in France was outdated financially, administratively and intellectually. According to a large part of the population it no longer suited the changes in that society. A decline in wages was foreseen and riots broke out. By clumsy interventions of the Government the riots got out of hand and the trust in Government declined further. The storming of the Bastille by armed revolutionaries was the start of a period when social inhibitions disappeared and the sense of justice and ethical awareness declined. The guillotine did overtime and after a very short time the revolutionaries were worse than the Ancient Regime ever was. The French State began its existence with the slogan “Egalité, Fraternité et Liberté”, but it took a long time before it was realised.

[8]

First Napoleon with the French Grande Armee had to retreat from Moscow [9] and afterwards defeated at Leipzig and Waterloo. This revolution caused next to a stream of blood also that militarism became endemic in our society and rationality was shaped inter alia in the meter and the kilogram.

The following post is about my personal life.

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[1] See also: Camus, Albert, De Mens in Opstand. Amsterdam: De Bezige Bij, 1974

[2] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rebel_(book) and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Camus

[3] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amok en http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Running_amok

[4] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johan_de_Witt

[5] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nika_riots and Cotterell, Arthur, Chariot – From chariot to tank, the astounding rise and fall of the world’s first war machine.” New York: The Overlook Press, 2004, p, 280 – 288

[6] Remnants of the hypodrome in Istanbul. Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nika_riots

[7] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagia_Sophia

[8] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marianne_(embleem)

[9] See also: Zamoyski, Adam, 1812 – Napoleons fatale veldtocht naar Moskou. Amsterdam: Uitgeverij Balans, 2005