Cupping coffee

Quite early for a drink

I found myself asking, where are our cocktails? Surely, they are not being made in heaven and needing a prayer of faith with the miracle of changing water into wine, just at our tables. Soon, they arrived without the need for a prayer on our lips, our yearning and expectations met as the ice entombed slices of lime and lemon in the glass.

Blood orange juice, gin, Cointreau, chilled prosecco and lime came to Alcoholic named as Blood orange French and Pom fizz which was lighter on the palate with pomegranate juice and chilled prosecco was served to Anonymous.

Stirring much curiosity

He puts a teaspoon of sugar in his flat white cup of coffee, the cup having no handles that he has to cup it between his hands as a warmer to take a drink. I could not decide after he put the sugar in his coffee if he was stirring or doodling, but soon after he did have to stir in the sugar, so, my first observation about doodling was right.

Apparently, she looks like a Karen. Pray, what is a Karen look? Surely not Donna Karan. Now, the waiter or waitron as they are apparently known on the menus in Cape Town has noticed I am taking notes, he thinks I am writing reviews of the food and probably describing something, not to my liking, which I am not at this time. What have I been writing about?

No one takes AMEX

So far, I have written nothing about our meals, our choices were good and tasty. We were at Hemelhuijs or Heaven’s house, the U appears as a V on the building sign, I guess we’ll touch the subject of meals another time.

When paying, the invoice said only Mastercard or Visa accepted, it made for a good joke to the waitron when I told of our visit to Simon’s Restaurant at Groot Constantia, the bill came in an American Express folder emblazoned with the by-line, the best way to pay is with your AMEX, but the bill strictly noted, only Mastercard and Visa were acceptable. Funny and ironic at the same time. All the waitrons agreed.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XL

A river scolded

River Medlock, a 10-mile long river that rises is Oldham, through the centre of Manchester before it runs into the River Irwell was after a moment of natural exuberance tamed by the Victorians, culverted and restrained through the cities of Salford and Manchester. It idly flows almost bereft of its menacing history when it took the dead out of their graves in Philips Park Cemetery in the mid-19^th Century.

Blog - Walks through the cycle of life

On my walks, I write in my notepad with script that is neither shorthand nor legible, I just have to remember my scrawl as a collection of thoughts to transcribe into my eventual blog. A sight indeed not learnt from the rigour of handwriting lessons I took in primary school.

A sample of handwriting from my notepad whilst I am walking.

It’s going down

Two high-performance Porsche cars and a Range Rover parked in a secluded and abandoned garage on Old Ashton Road, three men by the building engaged in a discussion and through the air, I heard the words ‘pay’ and ‘money’.

I surmise, something is going down and I doubt it is legal, else they would have met in a restaurant, I would think. A thought crosses my mind to take a picture of the cars and their licence plate numbers, but I resisted the urge to court trouble. Who knows what else they might be up to and you really do not want to be the collateral damage?

I walk on by trying for forget what I saw and setting my eyes on the goal to just get my steps in whilst I discover another part of Manchester that was always there, but I never dared to visit.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XXXVI

Students of escapism

This time last year, the cars were arriving to drop students off at their accommodations to resume at university, it was a pandemic disaster for them in so many ways. The cars have now returned to take the students back home. The holiday season is now upon us.

One student, a lady probably on a dare took was about to go for a ride with her friend. They hired the hostel bicycles and the first rode away whilst the one I observed needed a different kind of dexterity to have a riding start on a bicycle uphill. She was unsuccessful, that she wheeled the bicycle up to flatter and more level ground.

Signs of a lie

Further on, it was a deceptive fig tree moment as I saw a large shopfront sign that suggested Caribbean and West African foods and goods. Out of curiosity, I crossed the road, donned my mask and pushed at the door, it was locked. Soon, an Asian lady came to the door, it was locked because she had to go to the toilet.

Obviously, I told her why I had come to the shop, and she immediately said there was none of that fare in the shop, the sign had to come down. How I suppressed the Jesus anger in me not to curse like he did the fig tree that appeared to be quite leafy but without fruit eludes me, I did not even take umbrage at having wasted my time, I brought drinks before leaving. [Bible Gateway: Mark 11: 12-15]

That sign however should have come down a long time ago. Stepping out, I faced a Caribbean street food truck with jerk chicken and all that. I cannot say it is suited to my palate.

Coronavirus streets in Cape Town - III

Streets with meaning

Stepping out this afternoon to catch a breather from the onslaught of bureaucratic hurdles I could do without, the illiterate Dutch collided with my mastery of English in the naming of some streets in Cape Town. Obviously, I should be careful not to suggest that Dutch and Afrikaans are the same language separated by centuries and the tropics but must give due consideration to the distinctive difference that makes each language unique.

From Buitenkant (Outside corner) Street, you begin to get a feel of the history and the geography of the city which I will not delve into that much apart from offering a snippet of my observations as I walked and sauntered in the heat of the sun.

A slipper of a masked dog

For by happenstance or a yet to be determined means, a slipper or probably a shoe found a home on an air-conditioning unit quite out of reach, the other foot whether right or left was not right beside it and for whatever reason got left behind. Much as we are under legal compulsion to wear face masks, as he walked past me, he was wearing something that looked more like a neckerchief that if he were ordered to don it as a mask, he most like would strangle himself.

In the back of a truck they call a bakkie in these places, something moved that I expected to be a big shaggy dog. Another blink and a man it was, unleashed and left there alone without anyone else in sight. I could have asked, but he might well not have mastered speech. Therein is some inconvenient truth, some people are still being treated as subhuman, else, he could have been just standing beside the vehicle until the owner returned.

An English history here

Edward, yes Edward VII, what are doing in the Grand Parade where Nelson Mandela made his first speech when he was released from prison. His mother, Queen Victoria regales the front of Parliament as a jubilee statue. The English not only were here, but they were also trouble too. To my hearing, trousers hanging under a canopy shop and the exchange in unmistakably Pidgin English has an accent much closer to another home, I made no further inquiries.

On to Strand or Beach if translated properly, but that was a long, long time ago, it is a more a boulevard with cars travelling as if their brakes have been tampered with until I saw a splash of golden Jesus painted on a rock or perhaps the ruins of a once palatial edifice. Need I travel back in time to see?

Ocean views on a bicycle

The Strand soon becomes High Level Road and just at where it peaks, I have an amazing vista to the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront and just in front of me is a grave memorial of Muslim ancestors with an ocean view. It makes you wonder if in life they did command that view before they were so revered in death.

A road takes me down to the Main Road and then the promenade at Sea Point where she mounts a rented bicycle, Gucci bag on shoulder, stilettos screaming kill, completely oblivious of anyone that she might just run us down and then she is off, the belt on her trousers flexing out and pulling down to reveal, that’s all.

Easy on the ice cream

The sea wall protective and may be exposed for it is a Designated Mugging Area, I cannot say what time of day, but I was immediately conscious of the fact that I was some 50 yards from the next person, not that I quickened my steps, for there were other such designated areas. We can assume we are safe for now.

I ask for 3 kinds of Italian Ice Cream, bubble-gum flavour did not pass the muster, but pistachio, strawberry and vanilla became a hefty 6 scoops. The calories I had burnt in completing 10,000 steps were to be replenished with what might require another 20,000 steps today. Let’s indulge with no regrets.

Salvation from the waves

Out on the sea he paddled in a canoe whilst below him lay many wrecks and watering graves, though it is quite too sunny for the lighthouse, it stands as a beacon to maritime history and safety. My view is then momentarily obscured by a big house, she like us all was rolling everything and more accentuated than we could ever attempt. Let’s not talk of fitness, but my friends appear to carry around a bit more than their wallets.

As I was quite far from home, I called an Uber to take me back and my driver’s profile was as spiritual as they come, not that I was blessed as I boarded nor regaled by gospel music from the mouth of angels playing instruments that would take you right up to heaven, but he had this much to say all the way from the Democratic Republic of Congo, “I’m a Christian, I strongly believe in Christ.” For those of us still weakly believing, we have many more beaches, seas, and lands to cross.

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Thought Picnic: Conveyors of character

Show yourself

Frequent travel brings you in contact to different people from all walks of life that without probing and conversation, it is impossible if you are not clairvoyant to determine where they are from, what they do and why they are travelling.

Yet, I think there is one place where expression and impression are so profoundly displayed. It is not in sometimes drunken boarding of flights, garrulous or intemperate behaviour or even the basic social graces.

At baggage reclaim

The best observation point is the conveyor belt at baggage reclaim, it is as much as the revelation of character as any. The ones who gather at the entry point of baggage when the conveyor belt is switched on. As if their baggage would run away from them.

The parents with kids that are out of control, who clamber over the belts before they start and attempt to drag off luggage well beyond their physical capabilities. This, despite the sign that the conveyor belt is not a playground. If one were to read more into the situation of unruly kids in a public place, you can only wonder what happens at home.

Just as the conveyor belt starts, watch the ones who literally ignore you, if not shove you aside to get at their luggage without a word about their uncouth behaviour. Or the ones who get their luggage and don’t immediately move out of the way for others.

And your character

The conveyor belt is in motion, the luggage moves around and comes back again except if by happenstance it gets picked up by another passenger, though that rarely happens. Wherever you stand, it would eventually get to where you’re standing. If you have to pull off more than one and are not fast enough to get to it, it would come around again, it would not end up in a black hole, never to be seen again.

At least, one would think in the West, there is more safety for person and luggage, not to have to stress oneself at the conveyor belt. I can never understand the rush to retrieve your luggage if you’re being picked up until you've made it out to the arrivals halls, you really have not yet arrived. You might well be detained at immigration.

Is revealed

What the conveyor belt scenario reveals of character can be deep and interesting, from the disorganised to the untrusting, from the impatient to the harried, from the rude to the uncultured, from the nasty to the atrocious. Amongst these, you can still find gems of humanity, patient, helpful, friendly, courteous, disciplined, informative and just nice.

Being a frequent traveller does bring you in contact with a broad stratum of society, some members, you’ll rather not meet anywhere again.

Enjoy the simple things

Let us begin to appreciate,
Without letting it depreciate,
The singular moments that pass like fate,
From the many distractions, we take as bait,
We miss the beauty of nature that is great,
When on our devices we fixate,
Our sight denied a colourful slate,
And lungs that yearn to aspirate,
When we quietly sit to contemplate,
The passing of time without a date,
Not all captured on photographic plate,
Nor shot on mobile phone can inculcate,
None is significant or adequate,
To observe the wonder the natural does create,
To end all dispute or debate,
Let’s begin again to naturally communicate.

Thought Picnic: Would our humanity rise to make a useful difference?

Our calling

What seems to be missing in the story of our humanity is the inability to identify. People who are too preoccupied with themselves, their views, their position or their beliefs to be affected by experiences of others no matter how moving.

There are many events and issues going on in the world around us, some begging for us to acknowledge, recognise, appreciate and understand.

People who for situation, circumstance or experience have no voice either because they have been silenced or because they do not know who to cry out to, and there are many around us.

Our seeing

These are things that we can either be wilfully blind to or actively seeking to understand, sympathise and empathise.

Where we move out of our comfort zones and the padded lifestyles that seem to isolate us from harm and the gruesome reality of others to engage fully in providing support and succour to those around us.

We must not forget how ephemeral life is, how fortunes change and how whatever happens to us in life it is imperative that we do not lose touch with reality and the reality of others.

Our mortality

Everything is for a season, for those who have power or are in proximity to power, kings come and kings go, thrones endure for a while and kingdoms can be overturned in the passage of time to form new hierarchies.

Be aware of your humanity and your responsiveness to others, use power fairly, judiciously, proportionately and responsibly. For in the end, history is judge, a severe one at that, the memories of ills done in commission or indifference in omission are carved into enduring rocks of time as a salutary lesson to all.

Our legacy

However, when real good is done to celebrate our greater humanity, it would be for a memorial from generation to generation and the doers of such would have transcended from being mere men and politicians to great statesmen to identify with.

A legacy beckons, the masonry has already begun on the rocks of eternal scrutiny, for some #BringBackOurGirls might just determine the kind of people we are, those who have a heart of flesh or those who have a heart of stone.

Social Media Engagement: Attributes observed playing games

Another observation

Obviously, it is unscientific of based a whole set of presumptions on an experience that has hardly lasted 24 hours, but one will be hard-pressed not to draw conclusions already.

As I returned home yesterday from a lovely rendezvous with my growing circle of friends made from social media activities that included the rather usual lunch that had a fine lady exhibit her mastery of Nigerian cuisine, she not being remotely African, I reminisced about the many people I have met in person through blogging, tweeting and on Facebook.

Scrabble in motion

The train journey back to Amsterdam was uneventful until at one of the stops a passenger boarded and as he was fiddling with his phone as everyone who has a smartphone does nowadays, out of the corner of my eye I saw he was playing a game that looked like Scrabble.

A few days ago, I did a search on the Android Marketplace for Scrabble and I ended up with a word puzzle – Word Game – which had some addictive qualities working against the clock but nothing like the tradition game.

Rather than be a peeping Tom, I asked the man if the game was Scrabble, it wasn’t but it was a Scrabble clone of sorts called Wordfeud.

Handling the little things

He said he was playing multiple games using different dictionaries with friends all around that world and I thought, when I get home, I will try it out.

Wordfeud is available for use with mainly European languages on the iPhone, Android and Windows 7.5+ platforms with the programmers having the good sense to differentiate between English (US) and English (International) – they deserve the Nobel Peace Prize for just that alone.

There is a premium version that removes all advertisements whilst introducing other features. The board and game is intuitive enough and each language has a different alphabet set with weights and frequencies differing according to the selected language.

A really good imitation

It was not long before I saw the dissimilarities between Wordfeud and Scrabble, the scoring on the board is different with the premium squares allowing for more interesting play, the ratings on the latters also differ – it is amazing how much trivial information one can recall from years of playing traditional Scrabble.

It offers the basic moves as play, swap or miss with the shuffle function that allows for rearranging the letters to form new words but no penalties for wrong words, you are alerted and allowed to reply your turn. There are helpers like Wordfeud Helper and Word Fraud, yes, you can get help without your opponent knowing – such dishonesty, alarming indeed.

Tardy responsiveness

However, the reason for this blog is to highlight an interesting trait I have found which I do believe is a pervasive social media problem.

Apart from Skype calls, most interactive engagement systems are asynchronous, very much like email, you send a message and you cannot pre-determine when a response will be received. In a phone call, there is usually an unstated length of a pause before either party enquires of the other is still in that conversation – that is usually not available for Instant Messaging, Twitter, Facebook or games that are played online.

For this purpose, Wordfeud has given each player 72 hours to respond in play before that player automatically forfeits the game.

Appreciating the situation

My question is why start a game you will not conclude and why is there is no sense of commitment to complete a game you have started, albeit with strangers?

In 8 games that I have started since yesterday, only one has been completed, 2 resigned before 10 tiles had hit the board and one gave up before placing anything.

The other four have been in play for as much as 17 hours, one of which is quite near conclusion. I have decided I will rather be beaten than resign the game and I will most definitely avoid a default.

Wordfeud has options to alert, remind and prompt when it is my turn and I have switched all those options on.

The interesting thing is in a short chat session with one of the tardy, she; yes, she has a female username said she was still in the game but was simultaneously playing multiple games – in other words, I had to be patient.

I would not know if the trick is to win but drawing out the game interminably, I am however glad that Wordfeud does not allow you to resign if it is not your turn.

Playing vulture

If anything, besides the addictive qualities Wordfeud might bring to bear, it allows people to divide their attention in such a way that they are not committed, attentive or engaged to the chagrin of some.

It could also be that the players will rather default than resign or hope that the game is forgotten especially when they are performing badly in the game so as to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat – not with me.

This vulture is a patient bird and regardless of the social media construct, I will ensure I am courteous and responsive to all players that have been randomly selected – niceness should be pervasive, regardless of level of acquaintance, though, I do recognise in certain forums, some people just seek to expose your evils.

Thought Picnic: Some mean streets in Europe

Hardly a chase

A snatch and a chase by three of one who could really dodge and run and so he did between vehicles round the corner and down a stretch of road long before those in pursuit came into view.

By the time they found their bearings as to where he had absconded to, he was a good 150m away standing as if to dare them to make that distance and catch him in an instant.

They stood forlorn, they had been had, the one most affected lingered but did not cuss or curse, nor did he swear under his breath, it all looked like the survival of the fittest and this one got away.

It is possible they will meet soon again, a melee will break out, probably some fists fly, an altercation as it ever was strange amongst them and evening of scores and the one-upmanship is reset for another occasion.

They were brothers, one of the ethnic minorities that brought to might that most poignant saying in Yoruba about the regret and sadness of broken relationships – be not betrayal for the betrayal of friends for brothers get away with a lot more.

Not a lady by half

The altercations are many, ladies who have lost the grace of be addressed as such by their public show of jealous rage, the man helpless and embarrassed as each attempt at pacifying her only seems to escalate the matter.

By the time he manhandles her as if the shake the devil off the screeching and shrill charade, the men in blue have arrived to book them for breaching the peace.

The neighbours know no peace neither do the shopkeepers whose late hours only leave them open to the waifs and strays whose apparently friendly but wary exchanges quickly turn into situations well out of hand needing the law.

The speed at which they arrive and almost cuff the culprits for a chat at the precinct will rival science fiction transportation systems.

It is a typical Saturday night dawning into Sunday many of those involved have not slept from the night before and the menace they are to themselves defines the mean streets of this city.

Holiday Snaps: A beam through the prism of Turkey

A pinch of Turkey

There are quite a number of observations I have made on my trip to Turkey, this is somewhat premature but it is best written as an preface of sorts to what might be covered in more detail later either concerning this journey or another visit to Turkey.

Though I was only in Marmaris [1], the South-West of Turkey in Anatolia, I cannot say it is representative of such a big country.

However, it represents a genuine difference from other places I have been to. The rarity of people of colour in these parts means I might well end up on quite a number of Turkish social media pages having appeared in innumerable pictures with the locals that have all asked to take pictures with me.

In the energy saving realm

Beyond that, I noticed that a majority of places both inside and outside had low-power light bulbs in every kind of twisted tubular design.

I could not help but notice the number of Turks that had returned home from mainland Europe, they all seem to have been quite well travelled and not just from Germany, I saw quite a few from the UK and even the Netherlands.

Literally every café, bar or restaurant had free Wireless Internet connectivity, it should put hotels that still charge for that service on mainland Europe to shame.

I should expect that eventually every hotel will that service freely available at least in their lobbies if not in all rooms. The Radisson hotel group stands apart on mainland Europe for providing free WiFi access in the rooms and for those who hold their cards, they can expect to use the service in the lobbies without having to check-in.

The push to the West

Every picture I have seen of the revered and respected 1^st president of the Republic of Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk [2] shows a man who having seized Turkey from the grasp and dying throes of the Ottoman Empire is 72 years after his death still striving to drag his country and countrymen to the West.

The battle to make Turkey a modern, western and secular nation-state is still being fought with fervour and passion like never before; one recognises a strong identification is Islam as a religion but a great reticence to make a public expression of that faith.

The liberal and conservative appears to clash and compromise at every turn, it makes for an interesting, vibrant, friendly and tolerant country but it would always be caught in the pulling forces of Asia, the Middle-East and Europe and there is telling where it would eventually end up.

A world without Turkey will however be bereft of history, antiquity, knowledge and a people working hard for peace in a very turbulent world.

Sources

[1] Marmaris - From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[2] Mustafa Kemal Atatürk - From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia