The Spirit of Thanksgiving

November 28 was Thanksgiving Day and I celebrated it with my American friends over a nice meal at an Italian restaurant.

My earliest recollection of the mention of Thanksgiving Day was when I was a child. There was this Looney Tunes cartoon clip which showed a flock of assorted fowls sitting down for a Thanksgiving dinner.  Sitting at the head of the table was the chieftain, who was a turkey. All the birds bowed their heads as the chieftain gave thanks for the food and he ended it by saying, ‘Thank you for the turkey that is before us’ only to realise that he himself was a turkey. I thought that was hilarious.

So amidst all the images of the pumpkin, the cornucopia, corn,  beans, cranberry and of course the turkey, what is Thanksgiving day all about?

The legendary pilgrims, crossed the Atlantic in the year 1620 in Mayflower- a 17th Century sailing vessel. About 102 people travelled for nearly two months with extreme difficulty as they were kept in the cargo space of the sailing vessel. No one was allowed to go on the deck due to terrible storms. When the pilgrims reached Plymouth rock on December 11th 1620, after a sea journey of 66 days, they faced hostility from the natives. So they moved on to Cape Cod coast where the Wampanoag Indians taught them how to cultivate corn and other crops. This led to a bountiful harvest the following year and they commemorated that with a feast. That was how the first Thanksgiving dinner was born.

Even though Thanksgiving comes only once a year, I think that we should make a conscious effort to be thankful for both good and bleak days. If we sit ourselves down and count the  many things to be thankful for, the list is endless. But, alas, we are a forgetful people.

I like to watch documentaries on animals and out of curiosity I compared the gestation period of different types of animals. Hamsters are born after a gestation period of 16 to 23 days while  the gestation period for cats runs from 60 to 67 days. A human baby takes nine months to form and it amazes me that within that nine months, all the intricate sinews and cells are developed. Yet we forget to be thankful for our senses, our intellect, our capacity for emotions and our ability to communicate in a coded language.

We forget to be thankful for our safety. If we can recall how many near accidents we have had, or how many times we have cheated death, we are then reminded of how fragile life is.

On a greater scale, we only have to look at the carnage left behind by typhoon Haiyan to realise that life is not to be taken for granted. In a blink of an eye, an estimated 10,000 people were killed and more than 600,000 were displaced in the central Philippines.

We forget to be thankful for the people around us especially those who love us and care for us. There is this group of people who have played key roles in our transition from childhood to adulthood. There are people who helped mould us, who encouraged innate talent, who believed in us, who showed us how to draw the line in the sand.

We forget to be thankful for basic amenities; what we already have because we are always looking for more or comparing ourselves with others. We only need to look at children sleeping on the streets to be thankful for the roof over our heads. It is said that while we are too busy pursuing dreams, we miss out on living life.

But what about being thankful for life’s challenges, for heart break and for failures?

We are what we are because of what we have been through. We can either let bad experiences break and embitter us or we can break free from them and evolve into better people. Don’t let it be said that we have become what we most despise.

In one of the ice breakers that I experienced recently in a group, I was asked to share with the others what my bucket list is. After thinking for some time, I told them I once had a bucket list but as of now, I have crossed out every one of them. I am content.

Being content is the result of being thankful or is it the other way round where being thankful leads to contentment? Which ever way, giving thanks does so much more for the mind and the soul then griping and grumbling incessantly over what we do not have.

So after the thanksgiving dinner, I gave my friends each a handmade pumpkin pin-cushion.

That was my way of saying, ‘I am thankful for your company’.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/the-spirit-of-thanksgiving-1.417461?cache=03%253fpage%253d0%253fpage%253d0%253fpage%253d0%252f7.192560%253fpage%253d0%2F7.319715%2F7.494333%2F7.494333%2F7.494333%2F7.490557%2F7.490557%2F7.490557%2F7.490557%2F7.490557%2F7.575117%2F7.575117

At peace by yourself but not lonely

Pascal Whelan lives alone in a mobile home on Omey Island, a tidal island off the coast of Connemara, County Galway. A former wrestler and stuntman, his family history on the island dates back 300 years. He has lived in Hong Kong, Australia, New Zealand and has even doubled for Paul Hogan in Crocodile Dundee. Although Whelan enjoys the company of others, he enjoys his own company as well.

Like Whelan, I am happy with my own company although I love meeting new people, travelling, going for the movies with others – the whole works. But having said that,  I can also stay indoors for days and not leave the house because I find myself so many interesting things to do especially catching up on my hobbies and journalling which can run into hours until something necessary like replenishing the refrigerator bids me open the front door to walk to the grocery store.

There are many different groups or clubs that people can join here. For many, this is the focal point of their lives where they have someone to talk to. Sometimes they will just go on talking about the very personal and yet trivial things about themselves and expect everyone else to be interested. Maybe they do not have anyone to talk to for the whole week. Maybe they are very lonely people.

We sometimes confuse being alone and being lonely. You can be in a busy city and yet feel lonely. You can be in a room of people and yet feel lonely. Loneliness is defined as an emotional state where a person feels empty and isolated. There is this desire of wanting company. It is a feeling of being cut off, disconnected and separated from others. While short term solitude is a joy, loneliness is a pain. Contrary to many beliefs, the young and not the elderly are not the most  lonely among us. Maybe it is because as we grow older, we learn to accept ourselves better and our status quo is that of calmness.

So to me, being alone is not being lonely. It is just being very comfortable in your own skin and very happy with your own company. Yet some people find it terribly uncomfortable to sit at a restaurant to dine alone, to go to the movies alone  or to travel alone– all of which I have no qualms doing, probably because of a spirit of self-sufficiency and independence that I  have honed from young.  Being comfortable alone is a healthy emotion.

Short term solitude has its advantages.

It is a decision by choice to set aside some hours or days or even weeks to be alone. The creative person craves time alone. In 1994, psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi found that adolescents who cannot bear to be alone often fall short of enhancing creative talents.

But solitude is definitely not a time to be introspective in a negative way or to watch too much television. It is the freedom to do what we want and to be whatever we feel like, without someone else holding you down or holding you back.  We have come to a point where we do not have to do things for the sake of pleasing others or answer the question ‘what will others think?’

Put it this way, if my neighbour never liked me in the first place, he still would not have any good thoughts about me at all, whatever I do. So, if I dyed my hair the most glorious purple, he would still tell the whole town about it in a disapproving voice. It will not bother me because it is my hair and as long as I do not go out on a killing or stealing spree, I am quite content to make my own choices.

Solitude allows me to explore my own mind and self, to test my limitations and this leads to self awareness. It allows me to get back into the position of driving my own life, instead of having it run by schedules, demands and the expectations of societal mores.

Interestingly enough for Whelan too, driving his own life is exactly what he wants. 71 year old Whelan who has been diagnosed with cancer lives the Steve Jobs’ maxim of ‘treating every day as your last’ in order to enjoy the fullness of life. According to Whelan, ironically in summer (when the days are long) there aren’t enough hours in the day on the island. He is certainly neither  a hermit nor a recluse, but a man at peace with himself.

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/at-peace-by-yourself-but-not-lonely-1.403002

Hidden gems in the Algarve

I was looking at this lady who was busy journaling. Her male companion was staring at an insect that rested on his pen. He was probably someone with the national geographic and  she a travel writer or they may be just tourists with nothing better to do in the Algarve.

Travelling is always fun but digressing from the usual group tour whereby we trail behind a tour guide who holds a plastic bottle up high is certainly better - given that we know the routes of the strange country or better still if we have a friend who is nice enough to bring us around the strange country.

When I first learnt that we were going to the Algarve for a holiday, images of beer guzzing youth, crowded beaches and noisy nights flashed by – not exactly what I would make a beeline for. Known for its good weather and beaches, the usual tourist heading for the Algarve  would check into a hotel usually in Albufeira, go to the beach, sunbathe and return to the hotel. He will do this every day until it is time to catch the next plane home in his new tanned skin. Nothing wrong with that, except that I would prefer to experience more.

So I was pleasantly surprised to find out that a wonderful friend, Michael Henchy was there to collect us at Faro airport and unknown to us he had drawn up a meticulous plan to bring us to scenic sites in the many towns in the Algarve: Alcantarilha, Gaio, Monchique, Lagos.  To add icing to the cake, he was extremely punctual and manoeuvred the narrow and often steep lanes of the towns with such dexterity.

To me some things make a wonderful trip:  a comfortable bed, elements of culture, great food and friendly people.

I am easily pleased and a clean place to stay with basic amenities will make me happy. Imagine driving through high and ornately decorated cast iron gates into the rambling grounds of a beautiful hotel in Alcantarilha. The added bonus of us being the only guests there made me very happy indeed.

Portuguese architecture is beautiful.  Archways and textured walls bathed in bright yellows, reds and blues reflect the vibrancy of Mediterranean life. Hand painted tiles with asymmetrical designs or pictorial images in colours not unlike that of Holland’s Delft blue never fail to win my approval.  Flat roofs remind me of lazy days when idle kings would walk and view his subjects. Such was the flat roof that King David of old walked and saw his future wife Bathsheba.

 There is this chapel in Alcantarilha   that is decorated with human skulls and bones because the grounds that the chapel was built on was a graveyard once. Strangely, there is nothing spooky about looking at the skulls adorning the walls  in Capela Dos Ossos unlike the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum in Kampuchea where looking at the skulls left me with sleepless nights. But then again, the circumstances were different as the skulls in the museum were those of tortured victims under the Pol Pot regime.

I saw the cork tree, the eucalyptus tree, the pepper tree and even myrrh shrubs on the way up to Foia (Monchique) which is the highest point in Algarve.  I learnt that you can actually peel cork from the tree trunk just like a sheep being shorn. I saw little mounds of stones carefully stacked for good luck, similar to that along the Camino Walk.

Walking on cobbled stone streets conjure scenes of horse drawn carriages or wagons scuttling away in the dark.  I tasted trickling spring water, home-made butter lemon buns, fruity yoghurt in glass jars and juicy pomegranates fresh from the tree. Deliciously prepared cataplana or Portuguese seafood stew and bacalhau com natas (creamy cod) will whet any seafood lover’s appetite. Incidentally, Sir Cliff Richard has a vineyard in Guia and the piri piri chicken originates from this part of the world as well.

A trip is never complete without some shopping. After hours of walking around the Faro old town, there are benches to lie down under a shady tree and let the Peruvian playing ‘Time to say goodbye’ on his musical instrument caress the weary tourist to sleep.

Finally, friendly people make  all the difference – people who make you feel at home and at ease. It sounds odd but to me, language is not a barrier if I do not make it a barrier.

Sitting in a restaurant and having the waiter explain to you in animated gestures, halting English and fluent Portuguese what the name of the restaurant ‘ A Cisterana – Casa da Pasto’ meant, was a lesson in itself. In another instance, a hotel worker tried to apologise profusely in Portuguese about the disruption of the internet service  in our room. Strangely enough I could make out what he was trying to say, the important bits anyway. This reminds me of another instance in Seville where a Spaniard explained to me in Spanish about the bull fight and I understood the gist of it.

I think I could sit for hours just sipping aromatic coffee and then suddenly getting shocked out of my wits when the bells pealed unfailingly. What made it more endearing was that the bells pealed twice every hour...once before the hour hand reached the designated hour and again when the hour hand reached the designated hour. This was certainly most beneficial to those who needed to be reminded of  the time. An enigma indeed.

So to all who love travelling, if at all possible, go down the road less travelled. Seek out the hidden gems in a new country and you will be amazed at what you will find. And in the words of Arnold Swarzenegger, I would say to the Algarve, ‘I’ll be back.’

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/hidden-gems-in-the-algarve-1.390520?cache=03%252F7.198169%3Fpage%3D0%3Fpage%3D0%2F7.72648%3Fkey%3DKuala+Lumpur%2F7.321287%2F7.323459