SUPERIOR PLACES ON THE GLOBE - PART 1

I am in South Africa to observe a commercial on a skin care product. 

Why South Africa? 

The light is really “real” here.   When shooting on film, there are many lens filters, but these days with the Red Epic, hardly necessary to dim a light or increase the vibrancy – Cape Town has the rays and density to filter any lens.   This is its specialty.

The team flew in from the West whereas I flew from the East  riding the equator and then heading south to Johannesburg.    A quick turn around and on the horizon Table Top Mountain majestically draws nearer.  

Cape Town, besides its distinctive wine is also widely known among movie-makers for its clear “light” unclouded by sea mist, ozone layers, or city pollution.   It is as if the hues are taken from a color palate making the sea a deep blue, the grass an emerald green, the sky at sunrise, a stunning orange bursting through the horizon.  

Looking out to sea, sipping the South Africa’s Hamilton’s best prize chardonnay, I am experiencing the sun setting  with its intensity of  caramel  orange disappearing second by second.  This is definitely what DP’s talk about  (Director of Photography) if you didn’t already know.      It’s the thinnest spot of the Ozone hole. The King Protea’s pink petals were shockingly pink, the emerald green grass, so bright like a spilled can of paint.  The sapphire blue sea, implied incalculable depth, suggested God was involved in creating this planet.  It is us humans, that have spoilt global beauty with our pollution requiring a movie crew to fly all the way from America to South Africa for its “light” so real – difficult to capture anywhere else.

 

                                       Smoking: The double volcano on the island of Ambrym in the Pacific archipelago of Vanuatu.

          ,

I am here in Vanuatu to plunge myself in volcanic mud and drink their elixir called Kava

The short 3½ hour flight from Auckland on Air Vanuatu’s 737-300 illustrated the narrow scope in my mind of the vastness of  the Pacific ocean.  Freaked out by the smallness of me and my 737, however this feeling never surfaces when travelling over land mass; the finite of the ground below serves to make me more part of the earth.  

The breezy tropical hot wind whips the ocean salt as I step out of the aircraft in Port Vila, Vanuatu.   Déjà vu is what hits me, and I am transported to a very happy time in similar atmosphere several decades ago.

The mud and elixir specifically found in Ambrym island, is yet another 60 minute flight from Port Vila to Ambrym  on a Turbo Prop.  An eight seater, my team were the only people on the flight, this equally small aircraft unnerved me just a tad.    The short grassy runway and the little shack was the airport.   Our guide, Samuel was there, waving to take us to the guest house.  This is so “way out” of what I am used to and very apprehensive of being stuck in this extremely small dot in the middle of the Pacific.  The village children smiled and waved, clad in shorts, we must have appeared strange, with backpacks, cameras with odd-looking shoes. 

My trip to Mt. Marum will need the assistance of Samuel and John, our expert guide. Ambrym is an amazing volcanic island in the centre of the of Vanuatu archipelago, when Ambrym blew up a thousand years ago, it ejected 25 cubic kilometres of earth into the atmosphere. When the eruption ended, these vents sealed up, but left very distinctive crater shapes called maars, in the landscape. These are the black half moon and circular shapes in the diagram.

After a long and arduous trek, we were able to see Mt. Marum boiling underneath.  The site of the lava is surreal.  Watching liquid rock boil as if in a large natural pot is intense. Every few seconds an explosion and a burst of lava spews into the air. The stench of the gases is incredibly putrid.   The view is amazing and being one with nature makes faith in God’s creation all the more real.

Back to base camp I decided to immerse my body in  volcanic mud to increase the magnesium in my 5ft 1inch frame.   For example, did you know that the presence of Magnesium in the bloodstream and cellular fluids is necessary for more than three hundred different metabolic functions?   

I plunged and emerged feeling totally  and inexplicably renewed.   

Now for the Kava.

Kava comes from the root of the yaqona (piper methysticum) bush, a relative of the pepper plant. The root is ground up and then strained with water into a large wooden communal bowl (or sometimes a plastic bucket, depending on what you have on hand). Simple preparation for a simple drink.  Kava Does NOT Taste Good, in fact it is similar to drinking a bowl of dirty water, like mud, bitter, peppery mud.   My mouth was numb and although offered a second cup, I declined.   Body relaxed, mind relaxed, I am renewed from the depth of the earth. 

COMMITTMENT

When you talk about love, lust, and longing to passion, politics, and principle; being committed to any ideal takes devotion. Love too much, disappointment follows, follow your ideology too strong, the crash is inevitable. 

So where do we follow the line?   Besides the  religious aspects, lets for a moment try being truthful, where vulnerability, insecurity,  pervades and humbleness overtakes ego.  By making every word uttered hold weight we would never have second thoughts on believing.

Take for example, a friend’s lover is unfaithful – where is loyalty faithfulness to friendship lie?  Be a friend or be the lover’s enabler?

Or belonging in a group with political views not in sync with the rest – voice it out and hope they keep you in the group or face being annihilated.

Ground rules:

Loyalty to oneself – how hard can that be?   Believe me as humans we like to look at the good side of life so it is very HARD.

Loyalty to your spouse that we profess via God, Allah, Buddha – to each other, sometimes fall apart and become broken promises.

Loyalty to ideology changes as our wallets enlarge.  Youth tilts us very left and maturity inclines us over to the right.

Some faiths teaches us the middle ground.  Some faiths are all or nothing.  Believe in your own faith.   Allow the knoledge that time changes, equally your beliefs change and march on with time.   Make that never an excuse or guilt.

Confidentiality is a virtue of the loyal, as loyalty is the virtue of faithfulness.

THE MYSTERY OF K A S H M I R

Chiru’s sacrifice  becomes a  shawl to die for…

Mention Kashmir and its mystery and intrigue capture undivided interest.  Deep in history of wars and struggle, the valley of Kashmir is full of mighty mountains reducing everything else to miniscule size.  The enormity of the Himalaya range, with its twists and turns, voices echo between boulders of rock way above sea level, yet in the meadows, are spangled with daisies, hyacinths, and daffodils and almonds, cherry, apples and strawberries are in abundance.  Kashmir is considered as the “heaven brought on earth.” 

Fast forward within the enclaves of New York high society where ladies lunch, spring has sprung, still with a little nip in the air.  Too cold for a summer dress, not cold enough for a heavy coat, the Kashmiri Shatoosh shawl elegantly covers the shoulders of these sophisticated elite ladies.  Their last names could easily be a Rockefeller, Trump, Buckley or Santo Domingo with a few Shatoosh Pashimina shawls likely to be hanging off their nonchalant shoulders.

Back deep in the canyons of the Himalaya range, these Chiru goats roam from Tibet across the mountainous range to as far as Kashmir. The chiru antelope lives in one of the harshest environments on earth, at an altitude of over 5,000 meters. Their special type of down fur, which is both very light and warm, allows them to survive in the freezing conditions of the plateau where they gather at one point of the year.

 

The chin hairs of wild goats or Chirus have been claimed to shed onto bushes, trees and rocks and then painstakingly collected tuft by tuft by Tibetan nomads.   In actuality, they are made from the wool of the Tibetan antelope, a rare and endangered species found only on the desolate high plains of the Tibetan plateau in China.   Wildlife experts confirm that these antelopes are being slaughtered by poachers to keep up the demand for shawls in the Western world.   The Moghul emperors also sought after these ultra soft, ultra thin, ultra warm shawls.  Only Royals of yester-years were allowed to wear them for they were very expensive, it took skilled artisan to weave the delicate hair, measuring between 9 and 11 micrometer.  It extracts the lives of three Chiru to make one 2ms x 1ms lady’s shawl and double the lives of Chirus to produce a man’s shawl.  These shawls are so fine; they can be passed through a wedding ring, leading them to be known as “ring shawls.”

Giddily sipping Proséco, at a New York brasserie, these ladies who lunch or perhaps finished a gym session with their personal trainer, or ready to catch their chartered jets to the Paris fashion week got subpoenaed by Newark’s US Marshall  for illegally possessing these wonderful exquisite shawls that have now been deemed  “endangered species.”  They were subpoenaed to testify before a grand jury sitting in Newark and to bring with them “any and all shahtoosh shawls, other shahtoosh items, and items made from the Tibetan antelope, chiru or ibex,” to be confiscated.

The list of the multi-rich owners ranging from Begum Aga Khan to the Italian designer, Valentino, who’s personal collection boasts as many as 200.  Nan Kempner, New York City socialite says, “ Valentino has one in every known color, he’s got one to match every sweater and every coat and every suit.”  Saint Moritz society talks of Susan Gutfreund, wife of the Chairman of Soloman Brothers, had made a bed-throw for the late Greek shipping tycoon Stavros Niarchos.

Pray, tell – did voluntarily giving up those shawls to US Marshalls happen or did they go into hiding?   Pat Buckley, wife of the conservative columnist, William F. Buckley Jr, said, “I haven’t heard of anything so ridiculous in a long time.  Some of our friends will have to call a moving van.”

International trade in Tibetan-antelope wool has been prohibited since 1975. The United Nations Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, and, unfortunately for the buyers of shahtooshes, conservation activists at the World Wildlife Fund, the Wildlife Conservation Society, and the Tibetan Plateau Project have prodded governments to crack down on the largely unregulated shahtoosh trade. In the US, knowing violation of the law with intent to sell is a felony punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine of $250,000 for individuals or $500,000 for companies. Like ivory and tortoiseshell, shahtooshes are subject to confiscation by the U.S. Customs Service, a fact that has not been widely publicized until recently.

So with huge excitement and anticipation I finally had the opportunity last week, outside of the US, and inside the well guarded house of a S.E. Asian tycoon,  to touch and drape myself around several shatoosh shawls.  In the secret enclave of a well-known collector, shawls upon shawls were scattered before me.  It is indeed every bit an exclusive luxury, the softness, the lightness and although the expert was describing the difference, with the local Indian community bringing these pieces in, I could easily be duped into paying many thousands of dollars in order to feel special.

Undoubtedly these embroidered pieces are indeed exquisite.  Shahtoosh looks like an ordinary shawl until you feel it.   It has a smoothness of silk.  Once touched and handled, it’s like caressing cloud.  Difficult to control, the weavers in Kashmir are so deft and skilled that they can even embroider over these shawls.

The Indian Government has banned the killing of a Chiru..   Banning has not vanished its demands either. Suffice to say Shatoosh has re-emerged in mega rich homes of South East Asia, where I am luxuriating in now, sipping iced tea and delighting in the beauty.   As a New York socialite once said, “it’s a craving, if you have one, then you want another, and another.”  There are no alternatives to this King of Wool.

In this particular Chinese home, where I had my first encounter with Shatoosh, I wondered out aloud if they ate Shark’s Fin, yet another endangered species. There was an uncomfortable shifting of positions with suspicion of my intent, their body language expressed uneasiness.  Apparently dissention within the family through their daughter’s opposing such collection of heirlooms, as she is campaigning against endangered species; Shark’s fin normally eaten is banned from the house and supporting Shatoosh was not spoken about in her presence.   Turning around I caught a glimpse of elephant tusks in the next room.   Pray, they are plastic?  I never knew.

I came away with an awkward thought.  Exploitation of animals, so that pocket-power, taste and exclusivity puts one above the ranks of others undeniably leaves a bad taste in the mouth.  Or perhaps the teenager daughter need to be made aware that  the art and craftsmanship in weaving and embroidering employs about 80,000 people in the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. The State has its own laws regarding endangered species.  Twelve established families in Srinagar control the Shahtoosh business.

Belinda Wright film-maker and photographer of The Wildlife Protection Society of India says, “the people with most to lose from a successful choking off of the shahtoosh trade are about a dozen wealthy businessmen.”  She added, “The artisans who spin and weave it would continue with their customary trade in cashmere, which is produced from a domestic goat.”   

So we have an alternative.  

Could I convince my newly found friend with an extreme passion for collecting Shatoosh that there is a new wool called Shahmina, a wool developed recently in India, with virtually the same weight, texture and warmth as shahtoosh, produced from pure strains of high-altitude goats. With no bloodshed involved.

He nods, but unconvinced.  Banned goods, illegal, hard to get, almost at extinction never tasted so good.

. 

 

It

ADDICTION

I hate to admit I have an addictive personality.   It is in the genes. 

Besides my addiction to strong dark coffee; strong & dark chocolates;, I have found that there are numerous things of the legal kind that I find myself unable to be without.

It has become something I am very well aware all the time, and don’t even try to address the problem.  

It’s called  “the screen addiction.”

I wake up in the middle of the night; I check my smart phone.  Pretending to check the time, there are always messages in different application modes, from around the world.    No emergencies from loved ones, I go back to sleep.   First thing in the morning, I check my smart phone.  Go through the messages and email before morning ablutions.  With my dark strong coffee, I then go to my laptop and go through emails, facebook, linkedin, and any other applications that invade my crowded machine, while CNN is discussing Obamacare on my 29 inch TV.  This is just the first 3 hours of my waking moments and I’ve already clocked 2h:20 minutes on screen addiction.    This is just me.   

What about the rest of the world?

 

In 2000 there were roughly 500 million cell phones in the world.  Ten years later that number is nearing 5 billion.  And these phones aren’t merely devices for talking with friends;  they take pictures, send emails, play movies, surf the Web and even track fertility times, to ensure more humanoids multiply to repeat same.

Now this picture on the right is seriously bad  >>>>>



The Kaiser Family Foundation, focusing on major health care issues facing the US and the US role in global health policy, published the results of a study that 8 to 18- year-olds log an average of 71/2 hours a day with media, including television, computers, cell phones, and music players.  I do not  fall in that age group, but my daily exposure to electronic media is an almost unbelievable 10 hours per day.

Do I have to go to and declare, as in “My name is Ruby and I am a Screen Addict.”

How would going cold turkey help with my life when all things on my laptop and Iphone practically runs “everything” in my life. 

I shall not be weaned off it.   Its attached to me forever.