Saturday, January 25, 2014
Saturn is low in the night sky...
So many big things tear at me, the silences that condemn so many to sufferings we could not bear on our own bodies or on those we love and then some days of small beauties, pleasures of friends, coming to stay at our home as a way of respite, cleaning the small pond so the goldfish who ask for so little have clean habitat, their red-orange flashes part of our morning light here. Oli, our friend for 8 years now, rests on our couch, with Cello stretched out by her side, Di does her embroidery and I cheer on both women in the Australian final tennis match. Then, just before the planet quietly moves ahead on its own line of journey, I go up to the small deck that overlooks the rooftops of West Brunswick and beyond and first find Saturn with my naked eye and then with the good binoculars. Quietly my vision climbs the night sky and then the white roundish shape with the line through it that is one of Saturn's rings wavers into view. How immense, how far from this world of ours but now part of the intimacy of this day. Help us, dear deep wonders of the galaxy before we fall too far away.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Crawling through a muddy tunnel seeking treatment
From The Age, Melbourne's major newspaper, January 18, 2004, "Egypt Upheaval Plunges Gaza into Nightmare of Isolation and Darkness" by Middle East correspondent, Ruth Pollard:
...Sameeha, 25, whose honeymoon was thwarted by Egypt's border closures, is hoping to complete her PhD abroad. Again, this will involve a struggle with borders.
Her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and as the disease progressed she became increasingly worried she was not getting the best car from Gaza's a;ready overstretched medical facilities. She applied for a permit to travel to a hospital in Israel but was rejected.
Determined to stay alive for her family, she made her way through one of the hundreds of tunnels then operating between Gaza and Egypt to seek better treatment in Cairo.
"'She crawled all the way from Gaza to Egypt, through a small tunnel, on her hands and knees through the mud, " Sameeha says.
""I remember my brother, who took her through the tunnel, coming back completely covered in mud and I thought, 'What had my my mother gone through?"
Since I read those words I have not been able to get out of my mind or heart the image of a woman with cancer needing treatment being turned away at the border to a country that boasts always of its medical excellence, its brain power, its "civilized" self, a woman forced to crawl on her knees because young soldiers at a border judged her not worthy of treatment. I read these words as a breast cancer survivor who received excellent treatment in New York City and that is why I can write these words, ten year later. Now I must do something. First by letting you and others know and then trying to organize breast cancer survivors to take action against an occupation that forces desperate women to crawl through the mud of heartless states.
...Sameeha, 25, whose honeymoon was thwarted by Egypt's border closures, is hoping to complete her PhD abroad. Again, this will involve a struggle with borders.
Her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and as the disease progressed she became increasingly worried she was not getting the best car from Gaza's a;ready overstretched medical facilities. She applied for a permit to travel to a hospital in Israel but was rejected.
Determined to stay alive for her family, she made her way through one of the hundreds of tunnels then operating between Gaza and Egypt to seek better treatment in Cairo.
"'She crawled all the way from Gaza to Egypt, through a small tunnel, on her hands and knees through the mud, " Sameeha says.
""I remember my brother, who took her through the tunnel, coming back completely covered in mud and I thought, 'What had my my mother gone through?"
Since I read those words I have not been able to get out of my mind or heart the image of a woman with cancer needing treatment being turned away at the border to a country that boasts always of its medical excellence, its brain power, its "civilized" self, a woman forced to crawl on her knees because young soldiers at a border judged her not worthy of treatment. I read these words as a breast cancer survivor who received excellent treatment in New York City and that is why I can write these words, ten year later. Now I must do something. First by letting you and others know and then trying to organize breast cancer survivors to take action against an occupation that forces desperate women to crawl through the mud of heartless states.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
The Heat and The Cold
The heat rolls in and does not leave. We live in caves--where ever there is the flow of cool air. Public spaces become private homes. Fires burn, feeding on the wind and paddock grasses; gum trees burst, their heated oils joining the frenzied winds. At times, I think I am seeing the future of our planet, the future we have won for our planet, fire and heat and human withdrawal because our skins too pop in this other world of earth. Life has brought me to this desert-sea land to peer into the future of our selfishness. This is the searing heat of Australia now, an unnatural natural destruction of human habitat.
In my cave, I watch the news and see another climate, the coldness of the Tony Abott's refugee policy. Small wooden boats, worn with survival use, first waved off from sleek Australian navy vessels, we see the camouflaged arms of the well helmeted soldiers waving off the floundering boat. Then we see the boat attached by rope to the prow of the expensive, totally modern war ship being towed back into Indonesian waters where the rope will be cut, leaving the people's fate in another nation's waters. Despair has been lassoed, no human touch except rejection and force, Australia has become the nation that tows people away from hope and calls it a military operation, thus ensuring that no details will be formally given, that silence will please the Australian people so they do not have to feel guilt about their government's actions. Silence in the service of national security. The language of war is used against "the people smugglers" by the nation of people towers. And no where do we hear the voices of the women, men, children on the boats or see their faces or hear their cries. That hearing, seeing would endanger the security of Australia says the government.
Fires kill and so does the coldness of the collective human heart. We allow wars, cheer them on, we call economic exploitation the working of the free market and then we black out the results of our inhumanities. Tow them, bury them, cage them, forget them. So many "thems" and someday as the planet gives in to its own sufferings, we too will be them, and the stars will not write an elegy for us.
Mercredi 15 janvier 2014
Le chaud et le froid
La chaleur s’engouffre et ne s’en va pas. Nous vivons dans des caves – où il y a toujours la circulation d’air frais. Les espaces publics deviennent des maisons privées. Le feu brûle, se nourrissant du vent et d’enclos d’herbes ; les gommiers éclatent, leurs huiles chauffées se joignant aux vents déchaînés. Parfois je pense voir le futur de notre planète, le futur que nous avons obtenu pour notre planète, du feu et de la chaleur et un retrait humain parce que nos peaux aussi éclatent dans cet autre monde de terre. La vie m’a amené dans ce pays de déserts et de mer pour scruter l’avenir de notre égoïsme. Ceci est la chaleur marquée au fer rouge de l’Australie maintenant, une destruction naturelle non naturelle de l’habitat humain.
Dans ma cave, je regarde les nouvelles et je vois un autre climat, la froideur de la politique des réfugiés de Tony Abott (Premier ministre d’Australie). De petits bateaux en bois, usés par l’utilisation de survie, d’abord écartés de vaisseaux rutilants de la marine australienne, on voit les armes camouflées de soldats bien casqués écartant le bateau pataugeant péniblement. Ensuite, on voit que le bateau est attaché par une corde à la proue du bateau de guerre coûteux et totalement moderne est tiré de retour dans les eaux indonésiennes où la corde sera coupée, abandonnant le sort des gens dans les eaux d’une autre nation. Le désespoir a été pris au lasso, aucune note humaine, excepté le rejet et la force. L’Australie est devenue un pays qui remorque les gens hors de l’espoir et qui appelle cela une opération militaire, assurant ainsi qu’aucun détail ne sera donné officiellement, que le silence plaira au peuple australien de sorte qu’il ne doit pas se sentir coupable des actions du gouvernement. Le silence au service de la sécurité nationale. Le langage de guerre est utilisé contre « des trafiquants de personnes » par la nation de tours des gens. Et on n’entend nulle part les voix des femmes, des hommes, des enfants sur les bateaux ou on ne voit nulle part leurs visages ou on n’entend nulle part leurs cris. Les entendre, les voir mettrait en danger la sécurité de l’Australie, dit le gouvernement.
Le feu tue et il en va de même pour la froideur du cœur humain collectif. Nous permettons les guerres, nous les acclamons, nous appelons l’exploitation économique, le fonctionnement du marché libre et ensuite nous faisons le black-out des résultats de notre inhumanité. Attachez-les, enterrez-les, encagez-les, oubliez-les. Tant de « eux » et un de ces jours alors que la planète cède à ses propres souffrances, nous aussi serons eux, et les étoiles n’écriront pas d’élégies pour nous.
Translated by Edith Rubenstein
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Maddy and Me
Here we are in a new year, with Maddy, a wonderful young woman whom I have come to know over my years here and who is now a neighbor. We met the other morning in Gilpin Park filled with its gum trees and gullahs, gray and pink crested parrots who graze the dry grasslands. Maddy has undertaken to work out with me and coach me in the ways of boxing at pads. My boxing name is Stocky Jo which I am. When Maddy told some of her friends she was boxing with me, they couldn't believe it, she said. I answered, because I am an old Bronx fem. No, she said. Because you are 73.
Monday, January 6, 2014
How To Help in this New Year
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Wednesday, December 18, 2013
The Joy of Co-Editing
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| Yasmin Tambiah and Joan Nestle, November 2013 |
La Professoressa snapped these post work session images, when we were both a little punchy. Yasmin and I managed to meet either in Melbourne or in a Sydney hotel lobby as we worked on the manuscript. Our friendship started many years ago in New York City when Yasmin won the Young Lesbian Writers Award from Astrae and I was m.c.ing the evening. Life brought us together once again here in Australia.
We want to thank all the writers who contributed to the project, Julie for being so welcoming to our proposal and our partners who watched and wondered. The issue will be out in October 2014.
Action Can be Taken
Dear US Campaign member groups,
Below, please find three urgent items from our friends at the Washington Report for Middle East Affairs, UNRWA USA, and member group The Struggle, that you can forward to your membership to take action around the emergency situation in Gaza. Thank you for spreading the word.
1. State of Emergency in Gaza by Mohammed Omer
We decided to make this urgent report from Mohammed Omer into an action alert—Gazans need our help now!
Contact Secretary of State John Kerry:
Write: U.S. Department of State
2201 C ST., NW
Washington, DC 20520
Call: 202-647-4000; select option 4 and ask operator for the comment line.
202-647-6575 (Public Communication Division); select option 8 to leave your comment.
State of Emergency in Gaza
I want to thank all of you who have read the last posting. Little by little, we are changing what is allowed to be questioned, to be spoken, to be cared about.
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