domingo, 23 de marzo de 2008
sábado, 15 de marzo de 2008
The Purring Khat
When you arrive to live for some time in a dramatically different context, you may try to increase your chances of survival by camaleonically merging into the new social and cultural environment. But those who travel a lot are aware that these pseudo-darwinistc efforts to decrease vulnerability, or to adapt, actually have limited success. Hopelessly, no matter how hard you try to fit, you will always be a funny external element in the picture. In other words, the best you can do, on the one hand, is to enter the new environment in the most descreet way, as to be better tollerated; on the other hand, you should try to tollerate yourself many “crazy” things you will find in the place. But there will always be some you will never manage to accept; as far as I am concerned, I am having some difficulties with khat.
Let me immediately warn you that I personally never had the experience of its psychotropic properties on myself, and I do not plan to have it. Writing about something I do not really know may entail a credibility issue; therefore, I shall limit myself to describe the interference khat has on my day in Socotra.
Wikipedia describes khat (Catha edulis) “as a flowering plant native to tropical East Africa and the Arab Peninsula.” (for furher infos on the matter, check http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khat). R. Folch, in his article “Khat” (El Periódico de Catalunya, 17th February 2008), explains very well its importance in Yemen: “Every afternoon, millions of Yemenis sit in group to chat, while they tear and chew the khat [leafs] they have just bought in the shop around the corner”. Khat cultivations substituted first quality coffee plantations and I even read that many people in Yemen die in the attempt to steal it, killed by the electrified fences or anti-personnel mines (!) around the cultivations. Once limited to weekends and now generalised throughout the week, Folch must obvoiusly be right when describing the consumption of khat as “a social problem”.
The Yemeni and Socotri societies are quite different. Actually, the plant does not grow in Socotra and it only arrrived in the early Nineties: therefore, far from being a Socotri tradition, khat is an external element in this island (just like me!) and, apparently, is getting to be a “social problem” like in Yemen, at least in the urban area of Hadibo. It is a pain in the neck indeed, especially for those willing to work in the afternoons, like many foreigners: if they need assistance from the locals, they have serious difficulties in getting them active. It seems that, during the Soviet adventure in the Yemeni civil war, Russians tried to erradicate khat from South Yemen (the belligerent side they were supporting) and to promote vodka instead. After the reunification, these efforts rapidly disappeared and any “vicious” change rapidly reversed. Recently, I heard a rumour about Yemenia Airways wanting to forbid khat on the planes going to Socotra, but it sounds pretty irrealistic to me.
If you complain and try to motivate the boys to work, by pointing out that to be active also in the afternoons can only increase the GNP of the country, they would just say: “You should respect such tradition! Come and enjoy khat with us!” Though it would be nice if UNESCO could provide us some clear guidelines to know how long it takes for a simple “let’s get high session” to become a “cultural tradition”, I anyway doubt that 15 years would be enough time. The numerous coffee-shops in the Netherlands did not turn Cannabis indica cosumption into a genuine Dutch tradition yet, as far as I know…
According to Wikipedia, “Khat contains the alkaloid cathinone, an amphetamine-like stimulant which causes excitement and euphoria”. As I do not know any Yemeni male who does not regularly chew khat, I have asked here and there what is it like, and this is a sample of the answers I got: “you don’t feel bored in doing what you do!”, “you have very pleasant chats with your mates!”, or “the driver will concentrate on driving, and the political scientist on finding the perfect way to rule a community!” Apparently, after spitting the mushed leafs, some people experience a lonely and depressive fall-down.
Finally, Wikipedia reminds that the World Health Organisation classified it as a drug of abuse that can produce mild to moderate psychological dependence. To spend 30,000 Yemen Reials a month on khat when the avarage monthly salary is about 20,000 is not so “mild”; to blow up on a mine to get some leafs for the afternoon is not really “moderate”; but to interact with a guy who is strangely staring at you and speaking through the green purée behind his cheek can actually… get on your nerves!
Let me immediately warn you that I personally never had the experience of its psychotropic properties on myself, and I do not plan to have it. Writing about something I do not really know may entail a credibility issue; therefore, I shall limit myself to describe the interference khat has on my day in Socotra.
Wikipedia describes khat (Catha edulis) “as a flowering plant native to tropical East Africa and the Arab Peninsula.” (for furher infos on the matter, check http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khat). R. Folch, in his article “Khat” (El Periódico de Catalunya, 17th February 2008), explains very well its importance in Yemen: “Every afternoon, millions of Yemenis sit in group to chat, while they tear and chew the khat [leafs] they have just bought in the shop around the corner”. Khat cultivations substituted first quality coffee plantations and I even read that many people in Yemen die in the attempt to steal it, killed by the electrified fences or anti-personnel mines (!) around the cultivations. Once limited to weekends and now generalised throughout the week, Folch must obvoiusly be right when describing the consumption of khat as “a social problem”.
The Yemeni and Socotri societies are quite different. Actually, the plant does not grow in Socotra and it only arrrived in the early Nineties: therefore, far from being a Socotri tradition, khat is an external element in this island (just like me!) and, apparently, is getting to be a “social problem” like in Yemen, at least in the urban area of Hadibo. It is a pain in the neck indeed, especially for those willing to work in the afternoons, like many foreigners: if they need assistance from the locals, they have serious difficulties in getting them active. It seems that, during the Soviet adventure in the Yemeni civil war, Russians tried to erradicate khat from South Yemen (the belligerent side they were supporting) and to promote vodka instead. After the reunification, these efforts rapidly disappeared and any “vicious” change rapidly reversed. Recently, I heard a rumour about Yemenia Airways wanting to forbid khat on the planes going to Socotra, but it sounds pretty irrealistic to me.
If you complain and try to motivate the boys to work, by pointing out that to be active also in the afternoons can only increase the GNP of the country, they would just say: “You should respect such tradition! Come and enjoy khat with us!” Though it would be nice if UNESCO could provide us some clear guidelines to know how long it takes for a simple “let’s get high session” to become a “cultural tradition”, I anyway doubt that 15 years would be enough time. The numerous coffee-shops in the Netherlands did not turn Cannabis indica cosumption into a genuine Dutch tradition yet, as far as I know…
According to Wikipedia, “Khat contains the alkaloid cathinone, an amphetamine-like stimulant which causes excitement and euphoria”. As I do not know any Yemeni male who does not regularly chew khat, I have asked here and there what is it like, and this is a sample of the answers I got: “you don’t feel bored in doing what you do!”, “you have very pleasant chats with your mates!”, or “the driver will concentrate on driving, and the political scientist on finding the perfect way to rule a community!” Apparently, after spitting the mushed leafs, some people experience a lonely and depressive fall-down.
Finally, Wikipedia reminds that the World Health Organisation classified it as a drug of abuse that can produce mild to moderate psychological dependence. To spend 30,000 Yemen Reials a month on khat when the avarage monthly salary is about 20,000 is not so “mild”; to blow up on a mine to get some leafs for the afternoon is not really “moderate”; but to interact with a guy who is strangely staring at you and speaking through the green purée behind his cheek can actually… get on your nerves!
jueves, 28 de febrero de 2008
A Tree-logy
On the left side of the picture, there is a nice Cucumber Tree (Dendrosicyos Socotrana). On the right, the Dragon’s Blood Tree does not need to be introduced, and on the left bottom corner there is a young Bottle Tree, which you also met before.
martes, 26 de febrero de 2008
On Patience
According to the definition given on Wikipedia, patience “is the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties”.
Already in my childhood, my parents soon found out that patience would not have been one of my talents. And they were right. Therefore, if nature does not give you a certain quality, you have only two ways out: either you avoid any situation in which you need what you don’t have, or you try to acquire it from other sources.
If you need a good school to learn patience, come to Socotra. Live and work here for a while! If you ever make it, you will get a whole Master’s degree. Some people here are trained in this fine pedagogical art of teaching you through the endurance of certain situations that can really get you crazy. Some others seem to be genetically patient and, if your deficiency is obvious to them, they may just advise you to “be patient”, but they can hardly understand why such a friendly advice is getting you madder than before…
In Socotra, the tour operators’ jeeps, the waiters of the touristic restaurant and those claiming money run fast towards their aim, but all the rest is slow. The donkeys are easy-going and the goats are lazy to move away from the road. Workers, in the morning, take their time and patiently wait for the afternoon to come and bring them relaxing khat-chewing sessions. The money transfers are soporific, the administrative procedures are narcoleptic and the internet connection is cataleptic. Hunger slowly devours you while the food simmers gently, until it arrives cold to your table (even if the waiters run real fast…)
Life in slow motion can be horrific to somebody that patiently tries to promptly solve every coming problem, as to have time to efficiently face the next one. If, in addition, the speedy metabolism of his body does not match the environment, he is in trouble. The worst you can think of is that such unlucky guy is also an Aries: his mental health is seriously in danger indeed. As there is no helpful drink he can have from time to time, one solution, the only solution, is to concentrate in getting his “Master’s Degree in Patience and Perseverance”, granted by the University of Socotra. The diploma, hanged on the wall of his office, would automatically cause the admiration and amazement of the most respected senior Buddhist ascetic.
What I do fear is that this unhappy character may end up so exhausted that he would not even find the strength to hang the bloody paper, but just to hang himself.
Already in my childhood, my parents soon found out that patience would not have been one of my talents. And they were right. Therefore, if nature does not give you a certain quality, you have only two ways out: either you avoid any situation in which you need what you don’t have, or you try to acquire it from other sources.
If you need a good school to learn patience, come to Socotra. Live and work here for a while! If you ever make it, you will get a whole Master’s degree. Some people here are trained in this fine pedagogical art of teaching you through the endurance of certain situations that can really get you crazy. Some others seem to be genetically patient and, if your deficiency is obvious to them, they may just advise you to “be patient”, but they can hardly understand why such a friendly advice is getting you madder than before…
In Socotra, the tour operators’ jeeps, the waiters of the touristic restaurant and those claiming money run fast towards their aim, but all the rest is slow. The donkeys are easy-going and the goats are lazy to move away from the road. Workers, in the morning, take their time and patiently wait for the afternoon to come and bring them relaxing khat-chewing sessions. The money transfers are soporific, the administrative procedures are narcoleptic and the internet connection is cataleptic. Hunger slowly devours you while the food simmers gently, until it arrives cold to your table (even if the waiters run real fast…)
Life in slow motion can be horrific to somebody that patiently tries to promptly solve every coming problem, as to have time to efficiently face the next one. If, in addition, the speedy metabolism of his body does not match the environment, he is in trouble. The worst you can think of is that such unlucky guy is also an Aries: his mental health is seriously in danger indeed. As there is no helpful drink he can have from time to time, one solution, the only solution, is to concentrate in getting his “Master’s Degree in Patience and Perseverance”, granted by the University of Socotra. The diploma, hanged on the wall of his office, would automatically cause the admiration and amazement of the most respected senior Buddhist ascetic.
What I do fear is that this unhappy character may end up so exhausted that he would not even find the strength to hang the bloody paper, but just to hang himself.
jueves, 21 de febrero de 2008
lunes, 18 de febrero de 2008
Three Stadiums
After having publically praised my radio for keeping me in touch with my cultural habitat, I would like to loudly reproach the Italian public media for the absolute impossibility to get, at any time of the day, their national broadcasts on AM frequencies. In Socotra, I can listen to BBC World Service from 7 till 22, to Radio Exterior de España in the early afternoon and sometimes even to Radio Habana, Cuba in the early morning; it is also worth mentioning that, when I am fed up of (bad) news, it is relaxing to listen to the music broadcasted by Voice of America. But no, RAI is impossible to catch in this island in the middle of nowhere. Damn!
Not that I consider the Italian media as information models to be followed worldwide, but internet here is very slow and I sometimes do not have the patience to wait for the few reliable Italian news websites to get properly loaded. In conclusion, it is sad that I can follow closely only two of the three electoral campaigns I am interested in the most.
Spain is called to the ballot boxes in March, Italy in April and the United States are engaged in an exciting primary phase that could change, in November, our Planet’s fate. For us who love to pompously call ourselves “political scientists”, it is of a rare pleasure to follow these games, like they were major football leagues. Of course, also in this case, each one has her/his own preferences…
But some games are slightly more serious than just kicking off a ball. The two countries I mostly relate to decide their Parliament and, therefore, their Government. It seems that in Spain will confirm the present majority, but in Italy, it is not who wins that will make the big difference anyway. The issue in my country is more profound, that I think needs to be solved through a dramatic cultural change, a national awakening from a long nightmare, a new awareness about what democracy should be about: to reach out for the best organisation of a diverse community and shy away from selfish political, economic or religious free-riders.
Anyway, Italy is just a province, just a nice leather boot in the middle of dirty puddle. The real game is to be played in November. The outcome of the elections in the United States will surely give us a clue about the coming main political evolutions in this world of ours, this wonderful common home we are tirelessly turning into an ultimate mess (or our communal grave?).
Shame that only few privileged over there will play the game. Do they realize how powerful is their vote? Why only some of them take advantage of having this right? Why so many human beings in this planet have to bear the consequences of the decisions taken only by a few? At the end of the day, when we sing the praises of democracy, what the hell are we really talking about?
Not that I consider the Italian media as information models to be followed worldwide, but internet here is very slow and I sometimes do not have the patience to wait for the few reliable Italian news websites to get properly loaded. In conclusion, it is sad that I can follow closely only two of the three electoral campaigns I am interested in the most.
Spain is called to the ballot boxes in March, Italy in April and the United States are engaged in an exciting primary phase that could change, in November, our Planet’s fate. For us who love to pompously call ourselves “political scientists”, it is of a rare pleasure to follow these games, like they were major football leagues. Of course, also in this case, each one has her/his own preferences…
But some games are slightly more serious than just kicking off a ball. The two countries I mostly relate to decide their Parliament and, therefore, their Government. It seems that in Spain will confirm the present majority, but in Italy, it is not who wins that will make the big difference anyway. The issue in my country is more profound, that I think needs to be solved through a dramatic cultural change, a national awakening from a long nightmare, a new awareness about what democracy should be about: to reach out for the best organisation of a diverse community and shy away from selfish political, economic or religious free-riders.
Anyway, Italy is just a province, just a nice leather boot in the middle of dirty puddle. The real game is to be played in November. The outcome of the elections in the United States will surely give us a clue about the coming main political evolutions in this world of ours, this wonderful common home we are tirelessly turning into an ultimate mess (or our communal grave?).
Shame that only few privileged over there will play the game. Do they realize how powerful is their vote? Why only some of them take advantage of having this right? Why so many human beings in this planet have to bear the consequences of the decisions taken only by a few? At the end of the day, when we sing the praises of democracy, what the hell are we really talking about?
martes, 12 de febrero de 2008
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