Category Archives: Living

Life, Living, Stories

Thank You Kind Stranger

6 Comments

“I was on the seat in the back. I felt the bus moving away. I saw  everybody, even Nathan on the ground as the bus went. When I turned around, no-one from my school was in the bus with me”. I remember my son’s words even to this day.

Chris Harris, five, was left in the public bus after the bus dropped off his brother (8), the staff and other children from Chapel Hill State School/After School Care.

Tomorrow, Chris will turn 16. Thanks to you, the Good Samaritan/ a stranger who helped Chris, find his way home.

It was in September 2004 in Brisbane City. We had migrated to Brisbane on July 13, 2004. As we were approaching Christmas, it would had been almost a year since the disappearance of Queensland boy Daniel James Morcombe and there was wide-spread publicity about him being missing. I was going through a difficult time, trying to settle into a new country without my extended family and my mother’s help with my sons.

The boys started school straight away and enjoyed it. They did better than I. In September, I was at work in Milton, near the city, and placed both boys at their school’s Holiday Care. A paid service run by the school. On that day, a trip to Southbank was organised so the children would be taken to the city to watch a movie. I understood at that time, there were three carers and 25 children. When the bus got to Southbank, a large amusement and entertainment park area, everyone got off the bus except for Chris. Chris is a very tall boy, even at age five. As a parent and an adult, I never understood how a responsible carer or teacher could not have done a head count of young children transported from one place to another. How did they not see Chris? None of the carers knew Chris was missing until they sat for the movie. His brother Nathan had started looking for him.

For Chris, after the initial shock of finding himself in the public bus all alone, and driven away, he said he searched in the faces of members of the public to “see who was nice”.  Chris found a certain young man, he thought, “looked like” his uncle Kauc. Uncle Kauc is my brother. The bus stopped at the terminal in Myers Centre, Brisbane City. Apparently, Chris walked up to the stranger (that looked like my brother) and said; “excuse me, please help me. I am lost. My brother and other kids went off the bus as Southbank, it’s all my fault, I didn’t get off”.

According to Chris, the stranger said “Ok” and asked Chris to follow him. They walked out of the bus and through the crowds in the shopping centre, straight to the police station.

I asked Chris later if the man touched him and Chris said “No mum. He did not want to hold my hand. He told me to follow him”.

At the police station, Chris gave the police my name, number and address. Chris had memorised it, and police also found the contact details I wrote on Chris’ hat and bag. A call to the school and within a few hours, the Brisbane police brought my son back to Southbank to re-unite with his brother and the rest of the group. No-one called me.

After work that afternoon I walked to the school from the bus stop to pick up my sons. One of the carers came out to see me and told me about what had happened. Before she even finished the story I demanded to know where my children were. I called Chris over, checked his body, asked if he was Ok. When he said he was, I picked him up and hugged him and got his brother. I lifted Chris onto my shoulders and held Nathan’s hand as we walked home. I refused to speak with the carers or anyone before we left the school. I was outraged and terrified of what might have happened. I just wanted to get home. I wanted to just be with my sons. I walked and I wailed like a true Papua New Guinean woman for the five kilometres home. I remember people in our suburb coming out of their houses to see what was going on and just stared.

The next day I resigned from my job. I was afraid to leave the boys with anyone. It took me two whole weeks before I could speak to the school and the Holiday care people. We never really resolved the issue. I moved on.

This week at work one of my colleagues made a collection for Daniel Morcombe’s foundation, set up by Daniel’s parents to help other parents who have lost their children to evil people. Some parents have never found their children.

I am celebrating my son turning 16 tomorrow and I am truly grateful to God and the kind stranger who helped Chris find his way home, almost eleven years ago.

 

Life, Living, My Art, Stories

The Hat Made It! The Horse Didn’t!

7 Comments

Across Australia today, people celebrated the Melbourne Cup Day.

Photo_2652DE77-E148-8EAF-A491-B596A2F13D21
The finished hat; all in a few hours work.
20141104_094148-2
Funny day today in the office.

After a long morning of trying to speak to clients who were mostly out for Melbourne Cup Day, my colleague and friend Celise and I went to our work party.  The atmosphere was alive. The weather behaved. The food and drinks were enjoyed and then came the moment all punters were waiting for – The Cup Race

.20141104_094414

My friend Celise, looking stunning.

All lights went off and the large video screen in our boardroom came on, showing the horses running. The screen was linked to our office internet network and when the clock stroke the start, I looked around the dim room at the intense faces. Some sat and others stood. I had no money on anything, but it was interesting how excited and aggressive the atmosphere became and I looked back at the screen wondering if the most popular horse, I was told, a Japanese horse, would win.

The funniest thing was, the internet kept on stalling. The screen paused, then, a stop-start repetition. It drove everyone crazy. There was more screaming at the streaming than the actual race. The race in our boardroom took longer than the usual time. Finally, the horse everyone thought would win, did not. It was over. One colleague bravely took this breaking moment to ask if everyone knew how much damage horses endured in these races. No-one heard her. The faces were pre-occupied. Some were busy calculating how much they won and others, how much they lost. All in all, it was a fun day, especially in our hats.

 

Living, My Art, Stories

Australia Stops for Melbourne Cup Tomorrow

5 Comments

275795-6745a3ba-6329-11e4-bdd3-73a977145716
2013 Melbourne Cup race

The Emirates Melbourne Cup is on tomorrow, November 4th. While the main race will be in Flemington, Melbourne, many Australians will celebrate nation-wide. It is not a public holiday in Queensland, but it might as well be.

For the race, I am making a hat, badly. I  know it is not my best work because I have made better hats in the past. I know I left it too late and I don’t have all the right materials.

Photo_83346D1F-6933-3709-09C7-46EDBF6E88B5

The Cup day is tomorrow and the office will have a party. I am not a big gambler, nor a horse race lover, far from it. I did not know our office wanted to party. But, it makes sense because most people in this country will take up to three days off work to gamble and party for Melbourne Cup.

Photo_3949CD22-1FAE-3C9B-F7AA-F398A4B4A257

I don’t have any fancy hats. And, I don’t need one. The ladies in my office made a pack to wear hats so I wanted to make one for fun.

So far my sons had various pointers and suggestions on how to improve the hat before going off to bed and leaving me with the task. I have found various pieces of craft material at home. I am about to re-create a 10-year-old straw hat into something…yeah ‘something’ I don’t even know. The good thing about it is that if the ‘hat’ fails, I can dump it in my compost and recycle the  bits and pieces. It is all organic.

Photo_8ADFEBA1-A417-574E-AB09-7139CB6C80C0-2

Pictured here, I found some hand-made re-cycled paper I had for a different project, and thought I could use it. I sewed the paper onto the orange hat and the paper was not opaque enough so I needed to paint the hat white. I was on a mission. The can of white paint was in my art workshop and without thinking or smelling the paint, I took a brush and painted the hat . Once finished, I could not wash the brush nor my hands, and I realised I had used the oil-based house paint. Worst of all my son told me,  we did not have any mineral turpentine left to clean off the oil paint. Sounds great doesn’t it?

With his help, I used a combination of Antiseptic Dettol and nail polish remover to rid the paint on my finger tips so I could type this blog post. Don’t try to use that Dettol combination to clean your hands, it is not nice. I guess I won’t be needing that nail polish tomorrow either; I have white-painted nails.

To make the slow-drying oil paint dry faster, I have been blow drying the hat for two hours. I am hopeful; I will wear that hat tomorrow. Thank you universe for challenging my creativity but the hat will happen, regardless.

I hope I have made you readers smile tonight with this silly story and my pathetic hat-making effort. If you are following The Melbourne Cup tomorrow – have fun and win. My friend won a few thousand dollars on a $3 bet, so I know it can be a day for anyone. I am just going to finish my hat.

Cool stuff, Living, Stories, Women

Cool Stuff: Wood Casting with Hilla Shamia

1 Comment

16

For someone who is interested in art and beauty in everyday things, it came as no surprise that my sons have developed the same ‘eye’. My son Nathan introduced me to Hilla Shamia, an Israeli furniture designer who combines wood and metal in a way you don’t see too often.

Hilla Shamia is a Israel-based designer with B.Des. at Holon Institute of Technology, Industrial Design department.
Hilla developed a unique technique that joins the materials of aluminum and wood. She created a series of furnitures based on this technique called – Wood Casting.

0715

These ‘wood castings’ are made from a whole tree trunk, and that enables them to preserve the natural form of the wood while still maintaining distinct boundaries in its creation. Each is a One-of-a-Kind piece.

08

 

http://www.hillashamia.com/

Life, Living, Stories, writing

A Wash In The Bush – Short Story

5 Comments

4526911846_956e72f6dc
Google Images – Fireflies

It was pitch black. The day had gone. Heat and humidity parted swiftly and everything was swallowed by the early evening darkness. By touch, I placed my towel on a nearby tree branch and stripped for my bush wash. My skin woke to the cool breeze. My right foot carefully searched on the large, rough and wet stones to the small piece of plywood. I stepped up, trying to keep it balanced under my weight. The ‘ply’ was held up by other stones. The underneath was muddy water. I stared into darkness and caught very faint glimpses of trees.

Already pulled out of the well with a rope and bucket, I reached it. The water felt cold. Today was an especially hot day. My mind went over how sticky it was. As I filled the saucepan, the steel cooled to the temperature of the water. I raised the saucepan and saw them coming. The ‘light’ visitors. They came in a fanfare of glows seemingly in rhythm, yet, their presence was soundless. I realised I had missed the fireflies in Port Moresby’s city life.

The fireflies came closer as if curious. They scribbled bright disappearing lines in the ‘black’ all around me. Their light made the darkness even darker. 

I poured quickly. The water was cold.
“Ohhh nice!” half-shivering, I yelled out to my family, wanting to connect us through the depth of darkness between us. The chattering of my mother, my sons and, nieces and nephews were a few metres away.
This well water must have come from the centre of the earth. Untouched by the 36 degrees heat of Lae, Morobe Province. It was so cold.
After pouring three saucepans of water on myself I looked up again. By now the fireflies gathered just above me. They synchronised in an orbit-like dance. I looked up at the fireflies, entrenched, and the soft mushy Lux bathing soap slipped out of my hand. The soap’s creamy white oval-shape slithered away under the old plywood with a soft plonk in the muddy water.
“Shit!”
I am not about to put my hands in there I thought. I stared at the ‘nothing’. It was still pitch black. I bent my knees but half-way, I decided, it was not a good idea. I am not going to find that soap unless I am prepared to feel through snakes, centipede, spiders, worms, and God knows what else is in there.
An owl startled me back to reality. I listened to the owl speak to another softly. I was dripping, half-soaped and cooling down fast. The fireflies lost their rhythm and separated. They flew away. I reached for another saucepan of the cool rinse and grabbed my towel.
“I’m finished!” I called and picked up my clothes.
Through the bush, I could hear my mother bringing my sons towards me to wash them. They were nine and six. She had the lamp and the boys had their torches. Suddenly, everything looked different.
In the background, my nieces and nephews were waiting their turn to the waterhole. My cousin Sam Newton dug this well before he even built his house. The water feeds and quenches the thirst of hundreds in our community. Because of where Sam had dug the well, the water remained cool all day and night. We used the water for cooking, drinking and washing.
“Where is the soap?” I heard my mother ask.
“Forget the soap Ma, just wash them in the water”.
I smiled and dried myself.

Life, Living, Stories

‘Playing dead’ to re-discover life again

11 Comments

ExamLiam Ryan of Ballina Co Tipperary. Picture:Marie McCallan/Press 22
Liam Ryan of Ballina Co Tipperary. Picture:Marie McCallan/Press 22

Clad in a black leather jacket and an eye-patch, I am sure you are wondering whether he is real or he is a movie character.  Whatever your answer was last Sunday when I made this post, let me introduce Liam Ryan. He is real. Two weeks ago, Liam attended a funeral of a friend and someone who had 12 years ago thought Liam would ‘go’ before him.

“We want to forget about dying. But we are all going to die. It is the worst kept secret in the world. The funeral reminded me again of how we can all be so busy living, we forget about dying. Dying is real and I’m so glad I have another chance at living”, Liam said.

Twelve years ago, doctors discovered a cancer that took over part of his cheek bone and the sinus. Liam’s close friends and family and even the doctors thought that Liam only weeks left to live.

“It began with a few headaches. Just the regular sinus headaches but they did not stop so I decided to have it checked at our local doctor”, Liam said.

The doctor’s visit ended up taking two days. The shocking news; Liam was the second person with one of the worst Head and Neck Cancer ever seen. The first had already died in a matter of weeks. Liam’s condition was diagnosed as Squamacell Carcinoma which also included a lot of skin cancers. Simon Rogers, Liam’s consulting doctor told Liam, there were only  two cases of Head & Neck cancer in the North of England every year but cases as severe as Liam’s only occurred every 30 to 40 years. Liam had stage 4 tumor in the middle of his head.

Liam was 40, healthy, fit, working successfully as an architect in a small town in Ireland. He had just completed his sixth marathon.

“I saw the end of my life appeared right in front of me. I simply had weeks to live”.

AT Stadium 2
One of Liam Ryan’s architectural projects – local stadium in Athlone, Ireland.

Liam was told very few hospitals in the world, could offer any hope to a cases like his. Liam just wanted to live. He fought the cancer with his will. Eventually, impressed by his fighting spirit, Professor Simon Rogers and his team in Liverpool decided to offer Liam a chance, a chance they themselves did not believe Liam could make it through. They told Liam he had a 5% chance to survive. Serious Head & Neck cancer required complex treatment and often kills the patient before the cancer does.

“If I was still alive after surgery I was likely to be without my sight, my speech, my hearing, my mobility, my brain function or any combination of all five, ” Liam said.

“Survival was all that was on the horizon. Anything beyond that would be a bonus. None of that mattered then. I just wanted to be alive. If I was alive I was winning, and cancer was losing”.

Liam underwent a 12-hour operation.
In the surgery, doctors removed half of the roof of his mouth, top half of his teeth and most of his cheekbone. He had seven weeks of radical chemo-radiotherapy. Then, Liam suffered another blow. In between his treatments he contracted meningitis and a deep vein thrombosis and nearly died. All these has been put behind Liam’s life now. Although Liam can now only open his mouth about half an inch, he can still speak perfectly and continues to do all the things he considers normal.

Pic 23
Post cancer marathon runner: Liam Ryan.

“My amazing survival has now been outdone by my even more incredible recovery. I am working, talking, running and functioning again just as I did before. Apart from my eyepatch, it is almost as if I never had cancer.”

Liam’s doctors were simply amazed. Liam said through the work of the doctors and their great work, he has become one of the greatest cancer survivors of all time.

“From nowhere, I have become noteworthy.”

In 2012, on the tenth anniversary of his new life after cancer, Liam ran his first marathon and wrote a book. He said the book, was not just for cancer patients but for anyone “who has a mountain to climb”.

“I have become the living proof that nothing is for certain. I have been given a second life and with it comes an opportunity to encourage and inspire”.

Liam lives in Ballina/Killaloe with his wife Pam and their three children.

Pic 3Pic 2

 

 

The Gift of Life

Living, Nature and Climate Change, Stories

Hawaii Homes Threatened by Molten Lava

Leave a comment

5853824-3x2-940x627
Pictures from Hawaii four hours ago.

A slow-moving river of molten lava from an erupting volcano is edging closer towards dozens of homes and businesses in a seaside town on Hawaii’s Big Island.

The lava has already crept across a residential property and incinerated an outbuilding.

The lava flow from the Kilauea volcano has been moving towards the village of Pahoa for weeks and was clocked at speeds of up to 14 metres an hour as it bubbled over a road and overran a cemetery.

On Wednesday afternoon, the Hawaii Civil Defence agency said the lava advanced to within 250 metres of Pahoa Village Road, the main street through the town of about 800 people, built on the site of an old sugar plantation.

5846118-3x2-940x627

Civil Defence administrator Darryl Oliveira said Pahoa’s commercial district lies mostly to the south of the area in greatest danger, and most homes and businesses are believed to be out of harm’s way, based on the lava’s current trajectory.

“Right now where the flow is moving we’re very fortunate because the number and concentration of structures is very low,” Mr Oliveira said.

“But the caution to that is even though the flow front is very narrow at this time, if the eruption continues and the flow continues to be supported by the tube system a widening of the activity or flow is likely to occur.”

However residents of about 50 dwellings in what civil defence officials called a “corridor of risk” were urged to prepare to leave, and many were slowly emptying their homes of furniture and belongings.

Mr Oliveira told a news conference that no mandatory evacuations had been ordered but 83 national guard troops were undergoing training and would be deployed to the community on Thursday.
VIDEO: Lava flow from Hawaii’s Kilauea volcano (YouTube: Ena Media Hawaii/Blue Hawaiian Helicopters)
On Tuesday the molten rock topping temperatures of 900 degrees Celsius engulfed a utility shed but spared the adjacent house on the property, already evacuated and cleared of furniture and other belongings.

“So far we have been very fortunate that the flow has not taken any other structures,” Mr Oliveira said.

Officials said they would close an endangered elementary school on Wednesday and shutter four more schools on Thursday.

The US Geological Survey’s Hawaiian Volcano Observatory said the leading edge of the lava stream had narrowed to about 45 metres wide.

Provan Crump, a marine biologist who lives locally, said residents were well prepared.

“[They’re] just moving all their valuables out and then moving,” he said.

“There’s not much else you can do, it’s a force of nature.”

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-10-30/lava-edges-towards-dozens-of-homes-on-hawaiis-big-island/5852676

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-10-30/hawaii-volcano-youtube/5853178

Culture and Heritage, Life, Living, Stories, Women

Women To Lead In Male Dominated Cultural Event

2 Comments

10485925_531845500281347_1128546082611688455_n

Two women are the first female canoe coordinators in the male dominated National Canoe and Drum Festival next week in Milne Bay Province, Papua New Guinea (PNG). Some of you may think this is “not a big deal” but it is. Nellie George ( left) is organizing five sailaus or traditional canoes from the South Duau area of Esa’ala District and Vicky Lodi will lead in organising bogama canoes from the Maramatana area of Alotau District.

1013927_319148981551001_81803423_n
Each canoe will have its own tribal and ancestry markings and other decorations carrying special meaning and luck.

Sacred Culture

This part of PNG culture is sacred to men. Canoes and drums are used mostly by males in the Melanesian societies. Although it is dominated by males, we do have some females using drums in other parts of the PNG.  From the start canoes especially are prepared by men. Men choose the tree, carve and design the canoe. The canoes can be used by the whole family when it is completed.

1010503_319148774884355_1410199366_n
Last year’s canoe racers.

Annual Event

The festival is an annual event that happens every first weekend of November in the sleepy seaside township of Alotau. This festival is the southern region’s major event of the year and showcases the coastal communities’ way of life particularly through traditional sailing canoes. Kundu (traditional drums) have been included in this year’s festival.

10660223_530331083766122_3949754002334049020_n
Men launch a brand new canoe.

To visit the festival and see other information, contact the PNG Office of Tourism and Culture.

Life, Living, Stories, Women

I Am Wale, Respect Me

6 Comments

1802248249-Patrick_Willocq-Lagos-2014-3
I Am Wale Respect Me, series of photos depicting women of Congo returning to society and gaining their rightful status. Photo by Patrick Willocq.

I Am Wale Respect Me. Personally, I think this is an awesome title for a body of art. This work celebrates motherhood, fertility and femininity. Photographer Patrick Willocq’s recent projects explore non-western narratives and mise-en-scenes in collaboration with local communities in the Democratic Republic of Congo. After spending a portion of his adolescence in Congo, Willocq returned to document indigenous culture and customs through carefully composed performative images. In “I Am Walé Respect Me”, female subjects stage their return to society through a lyrical account of their isolation. Willocq’s photographs are in the Lagos Photo Festival which opened yesterday(Saturday Oct 25th) with 39 artists from 15 nations.  Thank you Art Living for sharing this story.

468538325-Patrick_Willocq-Lagos-2014-1

 

Life, Living, Stories

Who is this mysterious man?

3 Comments

Exam Liam Ryan of Ballina Co Tipperary. Picture:Marie McCallan/Press 22

Clad in a black leather jacket and an eye-patch, I am sure you are wondering whether he is real or he is a movie character. You could be wrong.

Life is a play. We are all characters playing a role on stage. Sometimes we play more than one role. Sometimes, we play others or ourselves. Sometimes, we become the character we have never dreamed of.  We play what we are given. JL

I will have this mystery man’s story on this blog, this week.