The Suitcase

A dedication.

Everyone has a different story. We create our own masterpiece. We as the Artist, the canvas a doorway into paths and the brush paints the decisions we make. Different shapes, colours that bring out all the feelings of life. But sometimes, we forget to take a step back and enjoy the Art. We forget who we are along the way. Thanks to the Musician.


Her suitcase was as heavy as her mind. It rained; pouring like a drama scene from a love-sick film. Drenched in the rain, she dragged her suitcase out the door, clutching all of what she owned. In the last three years, she found herself in this same weather. The cold hugged tight, to a point where she couldn’t feel her face. As she got to the bus stop, a boy stood by with his bike rested against the wall, “going on holiday?’ he asks. She replies with a voluntary smile, “something like that”. She stopped for a moment and wanted to say more. Instead she walked on.

She scrolled through numbers of people that she could call, but realized that the neglect of friendship was apparent. It would be shameful to even consider calling them after having spent no time for them in the last three years. To her surprise, a name appears on her phone and it took her back to the good days. She picks up the call and tells her what had happened in such a casual manner, almost as if this was something that occurred every day. To her surprise, her friend offers help and tells her to take the first train to London.

So she gets on the bus, forcing her suitcase with her surprising strength. With so much emotion being held in and so many thoughts going through her head, it made her numb and as if she was in some sort of dream limbo. The passengers looked motionless and cold, much like the weather.

She looks at her bank balance and certainly wasn’t healthy but yet a miracle that she was able to purchase a one way ticket.

“This Train is for, London Liverpool Street…” the pre-recorded lady announces in her precise, firm, yet welcoming voice. It gave her relief.

Her suitcase was far too big to fit through the entry doors in the carriage. So she places it against the corner and leans against it. She realizes there was an air of emptiness that has been haunting her for a very long time and only did the endeavours of the last few days do it occur to her. She kept her feelings at a standstill as she kept replaying those last few minutes in that house.

As she got to Liverpool street station, she made an attempted to move her suitcase out of the way, however the space didn’t help much. A man looked over with concern and lent her a hand. His face drew with astonishment on how heavy the suitcase was and compared her height and size by the glance he took over her.

She thanked him. He nodded and left her to carry on with a small sense of hesitation. She looks away and carries on. She stood for a moment by the barriers on platform 12, the exit was pouring out with passengers on a Saturday afternoon. The rush was like flashes of speeding light; an array of colours with an urgent tone. She stood out as if she was lost in this urban wilderness. There was clear indication of where everyone wanted to go; she was envious of this notion and felt nauseated to think that she had no idea what will become of her. She reassembled herself and shook the feeling off.

She takes the direction to the central line to Bank. The flights of steps didn’t help the circumstance. She fumbles down the last two steps, ripping the sides of her worn out suitcase and out came her pocket mirror, smashing on the floor. A well-dressed auburn-haired woman walks over to her aid and gathers the rest of her belongings together,

“Are you OK, you look like you need a hand”.

“I’m fine, thank you…” she lied. She wanted to scream for help but she walked on dragging her suitcase.

This beautiful woman carried on too but added a glance of concern back at her. From Bank to Morden station. She felt her body weight fluctuated and saw the gauntness of her face against the glass window as it traced past every station. A screaming silence accompanied her with the gentle motion of the train. She blocked out from reality. As her stop came closer from station to station, she felt as if there were layers upon layers of emotions starting to uncover like the slow ripping of her suitcase that would uncover everything she owned. She closes her eyes as if only for a moment to try and feel some relief, and there she was at her last stop. The next thing she sees is Beth. In an instant, she felt the stream of tears falling down her face. Unrelenting. Beth embraces her which made it even harder as the reality presented itself.

The emptiness she felt, suddenly filled with pain and it was heavier than anything she would carry with her. She realized at that moment, all her strength had gone as she tried to carry her suitcase. Her body had accepted that she was done giving her all. The battles she had with herself needed to be rectified but for now, it was time to rest. Beth and her sister took the suitcase and placed it in the trunk with such difficulty that made them question how she had carried it all the way from where she came.

She sits in an unfamiliar room. She could hear her dear friends in the background telling her that everything happened for a reason. A cold feeling crept up over her and did not feel comfort. She felt alone over again. Beth places a cup of tea on the breakfast table and sat close to her with the “it’s going to be OK” expression on her face. As much comfort Beth was trying to give at that very moment; to her, nothing is or ever will be OK.

It must have been 23 times that day. 19:08 the last call. He loved her for 3 years. Then the rest, he brought doubt, lies and inconsistency. She was devoted and regrettably, put him before anything and anyone, like a lot of the women she knew. She thought he would be different. She sipped the cup of tea; tasteless. Beth was still talking, crunching away on some biscuits, crumbs falling all over her green blouse. She could not translate what Beth was saying. She was staring through Beth as if she wasn’t in the same room. With Beth realizing this, she leads her towards her bedroom and made an attempt to drag the suitcase with her. Failing to do this, she leaves it by the hallway. Beth’s mother approaches with a look of concern. She approaches and greeted her with a homely kiss on both cheeks along with a comforting hug. Seeing her face with such gaunt, she insisted that she rest for the night.

Beth’s room was small, cluttered and smelled like burnt oil. She sat at the edge of the bed in silence as the room came into darkness and all she could see was a ray of light coming through the cracks of the door and shadows dancing uncertainty back and forth. Tears ran across her face, but this time her cries came deeper. It was more painful than the first few tears she got stepping out of the station. Her mind created flashbacks of every single moment when she should have broken down in tears; this was her first breakdown and the strongest part of her has failed. She felt like it was exactly like the constant dream she used to have. In that dream, she stood outside her parent’s house at Parson’s Heath, watching her father clean his car while he held in tight grasp a lead and at the end of the lead, a Dalmatian who only had one ear.

The dog looked angry and growled, but not at her. It growled at something else. She felt the sudden rush of fright down her spine. In the dream she runs away from the house but not really going anywhere. A red double-decker bus stops in front of her and opens its doors, she sees no driver but just two hands holding on to the wheel. Something was chasing her and she felt the urgency to jump on this red bus. She sensed the need to scream, but couldn’t. She had no voice. When she reached the top of the bus, the roof had gone. She runs at the back of the bus, glanced back and there it was.

There was a silent eerie scream reaching out to her and the fright touched her skin. She looked out of the speeding bus, in view of her parents’ house and her Dad, polishing his car unaware and still in grasp of this Dalmatian while this time it sat in obedience. She jumps out and lands on her feet, runs in the direction of the garage door, through to the next garage where her family kept a large coffin-like freezer. She opens the freezer door and jumps in to hide. She lays flat with her arms holding on to the sides of the freezer. She waits for a moment until she felt her skin crawl. But this was different, it took it’s time. Light suddenly comes on inside, it became colder and the fridge felt smaller. She started to hear the eerie breathing sound getting closer to her ear. She shuts her eyes with much force. It was coming closer and closer. She felt like there was no preparing her for what was to come next, but she knew eventually, that the freezer door would open at some point. But the dream cuts as soon as the fridge door opens and she wakes up. That was the only relief. Every time she had that dream, she cried quite deeply as she felt emotional pain.

She’d fallen asleep with clothes she had on arrival at Beth’s. Her eyes were swollen and squinted. She pulled away the duvet away from her face and studied her surroundings. She felt unfamiliar and there was a sort of cold dampness in the air. Her phone was set on the bedside table along with some biscuits and a half empty glass of orange juice. The phone was flashing green, which meant that she had messages waiting to be opened. She reached out and pressed the main button, there appeared 6:02 am and an envelope image at the top left hand corner of the screen marking 7 messages. She placed it back down and pulled back the duvet up to the edge of her nose. In her mind, there was only one person who would be sending her messages.

The phone started flashing to red, which meant that the battery was close to rinsing out. She grabbed the phone and unlocked it; one, nine, eight, four. It read, 7.29am on the screen, 12 messages. It wasn’t him. She never expected Alex to have rung her, leaving messages of concern. His friend was more concerned about her than he was. She cleared the inbox and set the phone back on the table.

She watched it closely from under the duvet covers until the red light stopped flashing. She felt slight relief; she was cut off from that part of her life, at least for now. No one knew where she was. Not even her mother. Her mother had a different mind-set. Normally people would grow up like their own teacher, but she refused to do so. The fear of being exactly like our parents, as children, they try their very best not to be like them. But at the end of the day this was her mother at the end of the day, and in some way, she kept some admiration and loved her.

When she was younger, her mother only told her about survival. That was all her mother knew. Her mother struggled when she was a young woman and she of course did not want the same thing to happen to her daughter. When her mother lived in Hong Kong, she worked as a Nanny to support her family back in San Juan. She had left her at just one and her brother who was two years old. She had not planned to have children out of wedlock, but like many young women, she fell in love. They had a whirlwind romance and of course, her family disapproved of him. To them, he had nothing to offer her family, therefore he was not worthy of their daughter.

So she ran away with him thinking that love would be enough. She had bigger dreams and wanted more than the simple life of living in a bamboo hut. Small village girl with big city dreams. What she didn’t anticipate was life in the fast lane, pregnancy and struggling for money and although she wanted to return home, she felt ashamed to show herself to her family. She disappears without a trace for 3 years away from her family and reappears with 2 children without the father. A few months later she receives a letter from her cousin telling her that she’s able to support her travel to work in Hong Kong. After 3 years she came home, married and pregnant. Things seemed to fall into place, even with her mother’s baggage of heartbreak.

The morning sun beamed gracefully across the garden and flowers swayed with the gentle whisper of the wind. She could hear it coming through the thin moistened glass window. The garden square was surrounded by Council flats; a negative reflection from the greenery. The garden was surrounded by old decaying footpaths, broken rum bottles, a sofa that’s seen better days and a bicycle with one bent wheel. Quite artistic; it reminded her of a picture that her friend took on her travels. The Taj Mahal and the slums at odds with each other. There is certain sadness about that picture, like this very scene. Everything has a negative reflection and it’s up to anyone what they choose to see. Seeing both sides of the coin is like accepting that there’s always a reality beyond the dream.

She turns her sights back into the room and what she sees is an over-filled baggage. A suitcase filled with regret and at some point she needs to empty it like her mother did. But for some time, she’ll feel as heavy and damaged as this suitcase.

It’s Funny, but it’s true

Last night, myself and an old friend had our yearly meet up to plot chaos against our friends and discuss the most important topics like, who’s getting married next, why Nando’s quarter chicken have shrunk to the size of a chicken wing and plans to leave the UK now that the ultimate kerfuffle that is Brexit – or as my friend would say, “The expression of the British desire to leave civilized society and regress to the racist days of the empire” this is coming from an Englishman. A lot of people don’t know what it actually means to vote out of leaving the EU. What they don’t realize is that it opens reasons to think it’s valid for racists to be openly racist.

I’ve seen and experienced this outrage a week after the news was delivered while I stood on a station platform at Victoria on the way home from my travels in Greece, a group of intoxicated mess who looked to be in their 40’s chanting “the vote is out…these f****** paki’s need to go home, go home, go home!” Then casually points at my direction. Firstly, Pakistan have had diverse contributions and influence on British society, culture, economy, politics and sports. They are one of the most educated workforce and provides a wealth of natural resources that the UK needs. Secondly, we clearly need to educate some people on which countries the EU comprises of.

It’s quite disturbing to see it in the age of society where we thought racism was in the past. Evidently, it never left.

Here’s a video presented by Trevor Noah to explain a little bit more about Brexit

“The expression of the British desire to leave civilized society and regress to the racist days of the empire”

After our quick Nando’s fix by Farringdon station,  we headed over to see a stand up Comedy which headlined Sheraz Yousaf. He not only provides you with various learning’s about his culture and the general society we live in, but he is undoubtedly a rising star – we were still in stitches after the show and sparked further discussions on social issues which led me to writing this article. That’s the kind of power Comedians should attain. Not only were we laughing the whole way through, it made us think about the important stuff that should be talked about.

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Sonia Aste (img comedy cv) & Sindhu Vee (Image by Delhi Events)

The venue was at Betsey Trotwood – it’s a little quirky basement venue, however being that the weather was gloriously warm, events like these should invest in doing outdoor venues. The set was called, The Pursuit of Manlyness. “a look on what it means to be a man, this standup routine delights and subverts in equal measure. Chock full of insight, jokes and rip-roaringly funny anecdotes, this is comedy of the highest calibre” by YPLAN. I couldn’t agree more.

sheraz

Before Sheraz came on stage, the very wonderful and imaginative Sonia Aste opened the show. Her presence raised the energy in the room and got the audience to participate during her act. She handed over a list to an audience member and asked him to read out a subject matter that she could talk about. It was insightful and her vigour was very impressive. A highlight was when she talked of how so many people assumed she’s an American because of her accent, the typical ignorance. She also joked about her father despising her living in the UK – her father accused the British of stealing their gold. Which in fact “wasn’t their gold, they took that gold from another country”. This Spanish comedian is worth looking out for. Sindhu Vee, has had a heap of knowledge on various cultures. She mostly focused on family; the divide of three generations in one roof. Her set was hilariously relevant and a highlight was when she had to mediate between her elderly parents and her kids on social media. I’ve seen her on various events and would gladly see her shows over again- see her in action.

Many of the subject matters that these awesome comedians touched on were very relevant issues that we encounter on the day to day basis. Underneath the thin layer of humour lies a sickly rich serving of social issues; about race relations, politics, various controversial news and social norms. Many comedians have spools of intelligence that can’t be faltered which they use as a harness in the delivery of their comedy. As comedians, they tend to know their ‘stuff’ and with that, adding their own personal experiences and oftentimes turning themselves into the subject of the joke which provides the audience with the taste of authenticity. You may not realize this but the power of comedy can change the world. It’s funny, but it’s true.


 

A big thank you to Sheraz Yousaf, Sonia Aste & Sindhu Vee.

To catch Sheraz follow this link.

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Jumping in: feat. Shay-Kemi Events

In the world of entrepreneurship, nowadays it’s a race between companies trying to have a better product or idea versus creating something no one else has delivered. We all know that the simplest idea has the possibilities of leading to something that can shake up the market and inevitably creating new trends which grows from it the competition – of course that Idea must be something compelling. Depending on where you want to take your business, you’re either the ‘Pop-Up’ entrepreneur; short term, quick money or what I call the ‘Root Investor’; long term with the possibility of branching out with new products and services.

Being someone who also dreams of running a business, I find it difficult to know where and how to start. But I realize that, it’s just the fear of the unknown that prevented me from starting. You know when they say that you have moments in life that happens, which creates such an impact on your future; meeting someone who’s like minded and as passionate as you are, makes a big difference.  It’s true what they say about surrounding yourself with positive people.

This weekend I spent some time discussing this topic with a promising female entrepreneur, Shay who has recently launched her events company, Shay-Kemi Events. I ventured out with her and one of her new clients on the road to get some insights into launching a business in such a competitive Industry and she’s also set to support an important event of mine in 2017. I wanted to find out what got her to launching her Business, and in return, give her my creative insights.  I wanted to know what makes her tick and get advice on the types of suppliers to go for. I chose her services because from a business perspective; she’s dependable and passionate – what everyone needs in making things happen.

Noak SE4

Noak Bakehouse & Brew

She pulls up outside of my flat in a rented car, very eager to get going. It was an early rise so I convinced her to stop by my favourite brunch house for a takeaway coffee based in Brockley called Noak Cafe & Restaurant (Previously  Noak Bakehouse & Brew). I love a good coffee in the morning and man do they serve the smoothest coffee. Every time I take a sip, it reminded me of the mornings I’d spent in Venice watching the sun rising as I sat at the local cafe drinking a £1.10 cup of coffee, watching the world go by. A priceless moment. The Wedding exhibition required a few hours of our day and we both had limited times; if you see our calendars – each hour is filled with something that is invested to our Business including our normal 8 – 6 jobs. Even calling friends , family, attending social events and Gym sessions are in our calendars. Time is crucial and not to be wasted, but never forgetting that balance is also needed.

As we made our escape through the traffic of South London, we reminisced about the old school days of music as it played out on the radio. The 80’s and 90’s R&B, Hip Hop and Rap. In comparison to what it is now, there’s no contest. Back then real artists wrote poetic verses with meaning. Hip Hop and Rap had a story to tell; it made us think and you can actually understand what they are saying – exhibit A, Hopsin.

The slow jams got us two-stepping with our friends; it was all about enjoying the music and having a great time. Take ‘Regulate’ by Warren G – doesn’t the beat of this track just make you want to bop your head and hang out with your friends all day? We both agreed that we would make sure that our future kids would get to experience the rawness of music back then. 

This led us to the discussion of how life had become such a reality in our late 20’s. Suddenly you had all these responsibilities and pressures thrown at you from different angles of life. Looking back when we were both in our late teens – we had it easy. We had more opportunities than the generation before us and we felt that we could have done more. But the reality is that we are getting older. The longer we waited for something to happen, the longer it would take to reach our goals. As we raged through the M11, which after 20 minutes we realized was the longer route to Chelmsford; I ventured with some questions to get to know what got her to this point.

What has been the hardest thing about launching your business?

“Getting myself to actually launch it was the hardest part. It wasn’t the lack of preparation or not having the product. We all tend to procrastinate, for a couple of years out of fear, that’s what I did. The idea of launching my own business was daunting and I was afraid of taking risks. One day I just realized, these businesses were started by people who had passion, so there’s no reason why I couldn’t do it because I had that. I just had to jump in and do it”.

Chelmsford, the birthplace of radio, is only a 45 minute travel from London. In our case it took twice the time. Today the goal was to venture out and meet a variety of suppliers; its wedding venues boasted with so much offering and far less on the price tag compared to London. The event was hosted by Main Event Wedding Shows limited and it’s one of the biggest free events we’d been to. 

Like fashion, Weddings have their trends also. It’s very rare to see something different these days. It’s difficult to keep up and be relevant; however showcasing your work or services at these type of events give you an upper hand. You get to meet your competition in one space and network. People get scared of competition, when they can actually teach you something. They can inspire and they can be also an opportunity to collaborate. Nobody has to lose for you to win in this game of Business.

Are you worried about the competition being that we’re in one of the largest markets in the world?

“I think that the trick to launching the right way is to make sure your focus is on what YOU are trying to achieve in the long term and remember why you are different from everyone else. I think having your own identity is key. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing for now, take little steps”

I swiftly responded with “It’s basically like having a relationship?” We both laughed in agreement of this concept. I think that with anything in life, if you want a strong foundation – it’s good to take your time to understand it.

Being the kind of person who loves documenting everything and known to be the ‘secret agent’ of capturing  moments (see videos), I took video snippets of each showcase.  You could tell from each of the presentation booths, who just got into the game and who knows exactly what they are selling. A lot of people think that “creatives” don’t know how to sell their products. But who best to sell a product than the person who created it? It’s about learning who you’re selling to – everything can be tailored and approached in a way that doesn’t change your identity and cost of the product. 

“everything can be tailored and approached in a way that doesn’t change your identity”

VW Beetle

Psychedelic PhotoBooth

 

You can never go wrong with a Funky photo-booth at any event. It creates entertainment and provides your guests with memories to take home. It can be quite expensive, but there are ways of doing it on a cheaper budget – Two words when starting your own business, Ask Friends. You forget that the people around you have skills and hidden talents that they may want to showcase; it’s not just about creating opportunities for yourself, but also to those around you willing to jump in.

it’s not just about creating opportunities for yourself, but also to those around you willing to jump in

Standing out and being relevant at the same time can be quite difficult for any service or product you are trying to provide. We found some of the exhibits to show similarities in look and design, but only one will always succeed. You would think that their fancy advertising strategies has a lot to do with it.

Have you ever seen an advert of the Sriracha Hot Sauce? The Company Huy Fong doesn’t advertise, yet they’ve sold over 20 million bottles in 2014.  The 68 year old Mr. Tran’s family-run business is one of the fastest growing Companies in the US. The sauce not only is very like-able, but the family run business captured it’s audiences with a great back story. No other country would accept him when he was fleeing Vietnam, yet he’s a big household name and created a huge banter with followers on Social Media.

Having a brand or product with a pretty good back story and also being able to deliver it correctly separates you from all the other competition. If you believe that a product can sell themselves just because there is a need, you are far from wrong. You need to be able to deliver a product that has a long lasting effect on people. There’s always a need for Loyal consumers to relate to brands – finding that ‘human’ touch.

We were intrigued at the differences of each Supplier and how they had delivered their product as we walked through the exhibition. But we were most impressed by those who actually created the products to be at the forefront – they knew what they were talking about and you could see their passion for it. They took care of their identity which separated them from other vendors in the event.

As we exited the venue, it provided us with a lot of new ideas as to what the future held. Seeing new things, like the exhibition gave us better insights as clients and as entrepreneurs. There are no short cuts. The first step is the hardest and that is jumping in.

Special thanks to:

Shay-Kemi Events,

Main Event Wedding Shows Ltd 

Noak Cafe & Restaurant

 

 

Being human in the Social Game

It’s amazing how one day, you’re this 5 year old kid; running around, climbing trees, eating mud with not a care in the world. Yes, I’ve just described my 5 year old self. How times have changed.

We were born honest and yet growth has taught some of us to do the opposite. Innocence crack from when we start being told what to understand and how to do things. Society’s focus is about ‘this is how everyone does it’, ‘this is how we can get more’ or ‘that’s someone else’s problem’. A great example is an ad by Shell.20131106-225612.jpg

Our minds are moulded to fit what society tells us. We follow repetitive patterns at every generation, although it seems more self destructive as time and people evolve. We’re at the peak were millennials – the ‘Me Me Me Generation’ are in the focus of everything and anything else before that seems to be forgotten. The foundation we are creating for our future has this lack of organic communication that we are all just in need of. We need that human connection and our society in the digital age is losing out.

Words have become an ’emoji’. We are forced to obtain Applications to be able to meet or communicate with new people. Take dating applications for example, there’s a variety of them trying to be more innovative than the next. What happened to real human interaction? What happened to acknowledging a human being from across a room. What happened to the excitement of taking up the courage to walk up to a guy or a girl with the possibility of humiliating yourself. Those were exciting times, however painful – there was only one way to do it. Now we have various ways to embarrassing ourselves.

One of my favourite quotes from a book by Malcolm Gladwell that resonates well;

“because what is learned out of necessity is inevitably more powerful than the learning that comes easily”.

People in our generation are given more opportunities without having to sacrifice as much as our predecessors have. I remember having to read books upon books of information just to answer 1 question and be able to express what we understand. Where as now, we’re able to get the information we need at the end of our fingertips. We’ve become a generation of convenience and the downside of creating convenience is the lack of appreciation on how things are actually done. Learning to know someone is a necessity; it provides you the opportunity to know whether they match your values and if they can teach you what you don’t already know.

We swipe exhaustively, left and right in hopes to find someone worth conversing with. At times I have witnessed the ‘numbers game’ – a game in which my male friends would swipe right to every single person on their dating app and cutting down to match their vanity. It has become too easy but at a cost – time. Another reason to why I choose not to be part of this social dating game; I don’t completely trust the authenticity. I still firmly believe in the organic human interaction; the ‘remember when you first approached me and fell flat on your face?’ not the ‘remember when you liked all of my facebook posts’.

“Another reason to why I choose not to be part of this social dating game; I don’t completely trust the authenticity”

I am a huge fan of innovation however, at times we forget the importance of humanity. We are now instilled the fear of being left behind so we make do with what is presented to us on a screen. They say that the old world was once about being popular by fitting in, the new world provides opportunity to stand out. But are we doing it right? Are companies being transparent enough? Are we delivering authenticity? Do we let people be who they are, not what society wants them to be? So many people are eager to send you a friend request, instead of a conversation. Just like people are eager to hand you a business card – but don’t take their time to actually get to know who you are and if we actually need what they are offering? Sharing pictures and thoughts on social feeds isn’t enough to really know someone. How many people do we actually converse with once we’ve accepted their friendship on social media?

We invest so much time on social media but it lacks the impact we crave for and that’s – being there and witnessing. There are various ways to do it, it’s how it is delivered that creates an impact. I’d like to see a app that pushes you to do things that you wouldn’t normally do to align your interests without having to share it with people you don’t know – only when you choose to. An app that asks you “What did you do today that’s different from yesterday?”or “your friend on facebook did this last week, why not ask them to do it with you?” – creating a stepping stone without cutting out the human touch.

What’s wrong with taking time in getting to know people, what’s the rush? I fear that what it boils down to is the need to speed a process that should thoroughly be enjoyed – Life.

 

Why I don’t believe in the G word

It’s interesting to witness people acknowledge their religion. At times they can be very fascinating, some absolute bonkers. I was brought up to believe that I should go to bible studies and use it as guidance to live a fulfilled life. They tell me it will keep me from making bad decisions and keep me away from the works of evil. That going to confession would grant you forgiveness of your sins. But does it actually stop people from committing the sins they made over and over? Does it mean that if I don’t follow a religion, I won’t have life fulfillment?  Many believe that this is so, I couldn’t disagree more.

A lot of the religions are found to divide themselves from other people by saying that their ways are better than the other. Some have so many rules that they are restricted to freedom. Some, invented new rules out of greed and jealousy. Have you ever heard the story of a Sultan who got so jealous of men staring at his bride, he decreed that women were not to show off their beauty? During the reign of Safaris in the ottoman empire in the 16th century; that was the first time ‘veiling’ emerged as a symbol of social status amongst Muslims. It was more of a cultural practice than an Islamic practice. As time went by, various leaders would make their changes to their holy book to suit their needs. Think of the Anglican church, another great example. Henry VIII; he declared himself head of the Church and brought about the Anglican Church so he could divorce and marry someone else to bear him an heir to the throne. What a pimp.

The most fascinating religion I have discovered is Buddhism. Buddhism is a path of practice and spiritual development which leads insights to the true beauty of reality. A practice of meditation; a means by which you change yourself in order to develop the qualities of awareness, kindness and wisdom. It addresses itself to ALL people whatever their race, nationality or gender. It teaches to be fully responsible of our lives and doesn’t worship a ‘creator’ or ‘God’.  Although I don’t practice Buddhism, it’s a religion in my opinion that makes more sense.

My family are very much Roman Catholics – but I don’t believe that it should take hours to pray for forgiveness or thank the “Lord” for the good things in life. It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate things or don’t prevent myself from sin. It just means that I believe there’s no ‘being’ out there that I have to answer to. I believe that I should be thankful to my parents for creating stepping stones for opportunities and for teaching me right from wrong. I believe that the Bible teaches us examples of right and wrong, but it’s content restricts us from looking at other religions. Take the ten commandments as an example – the first commandment “Thou shalt have no other gods before me”. In the 19th century, scholars began to discover more inconsistencies and anomalies in the Bible. It has been theorized that the book was written during the time of King Josiah in the seventh century to propagate new laws strengthening the priesthood and creating an elite religion.

I have attended and witnessed various religious ceremonies and what I always gathered from them is the sense of community, however there’s certain hypocritical exploit that some of these goers convey after they have left these services.  There’s always a string of people that gather and talk about other people in negative light, but it’s acceptable to them because they have faith.

We should all be open to understanding other religions and be able to tell future generations that it’s OK not to follow a faith. If we didn’t know about ‘God’ but we’re still respectful and kind, does that make us bad people? Does that restrict us from having a ‘passage’ to the afterlife? I don’t think so.

It’s simple. Be nice, respectful and follow your passions in life. No religion can make life better for you- only you can do that if you choose to.

 

Trends in the manmade problem

 

“Why do people back home think money grows on trees?” is a question that my peers including myself have tried to understand. To give you some context, we all came from different cultural backgrounds but share the same stereotypical problems. Growing up and living in the UK is very different from living in a society for example, the Philippines, although westernized hasn’t really created modernization.

The idea of a family member leaving their home country was to look for ‘something better’. A country like the Philippines don’t necessarily have the most trustworthy Government. At times, filled with spiraling corruption and people mindlessly voting for a presidential candidate who praises ‘Jesus’ but with hypocrisy, believes killing is the answer to solve crime. The country struggles to accept that the root cause to this is that their society is made to believe in people of popularity, title and with money.

At times, filled with spiraling corruption and people mindlessly voting for a presidential candidate who praises ‘Jesus’ but with hypocrisy, believes killing is the answer to solve crime”

Another disturbing issue evident is the ‘whitewashing’. Have you ever seen a dark-skinned person in Asian TV commercials? Women are made to think that the whiter your skin is, the more beautiful you are. It’s very rare to see a dark-skinned Filipino on television other than when wanting to add ‘comedic value’. Most Asian societies are smeared this thinking and it’s a stubborn stain. The ‘whiter’ you are the richer you are mentality.  

“Most Asian societies are smeared this thinking and it’s a stubborn stain. The ‘whiter’ you are the richer you are mentality “

It is expected by those left behind to believe that you are ‘doing well’ in terms of work and money. Take my Aunt and Uncle for example; they migrated over to the UK and it wasn’t because they lacked the skill, but for better paid jobs and to further support a number of their family members. They work their fingers to the bone and feel the pressure to support the families they’d left behind, not necessarily suffering from poverty but to be part of the ‘trend’.

It is known that parents would invest their earnings to one child to be able to work abroad. It’s this thinkingimplanted in them that living in the western world would provide them better opportunities than their own homeland.

There’s pressure for this individual to make sure that they earn enough to provide for their family and at the same time having to deal with the pressures of western society; which most don’t fully comprehend the difficulties. Their life becomes a non-ending routine of work and sleep; at times working multiple jobs in order to pay for their living in the UK. Although admirable for supporting their family, where does the line cross? How can we expect that individual to still further provide once they have a family of their own? Do people really travel to the western world because of poverty or just following the ‘whiter you are, the richer you are’ trend? There could be many reasons.

What we cannot do is let this type of thinking continue and become the norm of what it means to work and live in the western world.

A letter to my big brother

To my big Brother,

The harsh truth.

This time last year, marriage wasn’t even on your mind and now you’re about to take a big leap. With respect, I thought I wouldn’t witness this for a few more years; you talked a lot about your focus on pursuing your career in child psychology, buying a house and possibly travel more.

You know my views on marriage, it is not something to be rushed and I think people our age are instilled to think that it’s something we have to do just because everyone else is doing it, or say we should be just because they say it’s time or that we’re scared we won’t meet anyone better.

I believe that marriage is hard; it should never be entered out of pressure or urgency. It’s about knowing that the other person you’re entering it with have the same values, be your protector, and finally someone who will forever respect you and your family.

Having said that, you say you are very much in love and happy – that’s enough for me. Now the bonus of getting married is that you’ll have a wife to help you build your dreams.

You are the most kind-hearted and generous person I know and at times break your back to make sure that the people you love are happy.

When we were young (5/6 year old) at that time at Inay’s (grandma’s) house – I told you how hungry I was (but I was always hungry even after eating) but she was at church. I started crying my chubby face out. I knew she had some coins hidden high up in the cupboard and I persuaded you to take it; you climbed that cupboard, took the coins and ran to the shops. You returned with a big smile on your face embracing a big bag of cheese puffs, chocolate tubes, corn puffs, peanuts and my favourite, Mamon cakes. (Although I think at that time – you didn’t have any teeth) You said you’d figure out a way to pay her back somehow and not to worry.

You also invited the neighbour’s kids to join us under the sampalok tree to eat with us. When she got back that afternoon from mass, she found out and of course upset at this she lined us up outside the house. I was scared of course, so you stood in front of me and instantly took the blame and said it was your idea and said that you were hungry so you took the money. You got the bamboo stick! To this day, I still remember what you did.

I know you still are that 6 year old kid inside, always trying to protect your loved ones; however nuts we can be – but don’t forget, we only do the things we do because we care and want to protect you like any other family would do to their own.

You deserve the best things in life and nothing less. You have so much to offer and your future wife must know that she’s very lucky to have you.

You do know it’s not too late to run for the hills haha!  Our family and our friends are looking forward to celebrating your happiness.

Tequila!!

I apologize now for our family’s drunken behaviour on your wedding day – I believe your best man’s speech is being vetted knowing that we have Christian evangelists partying with a bunch of nutters.

I owe you one, Your little sis.

The 14th Box of Yema

I like the poetic idea of walking down the isle with my father, wearing the white dress and sharing that special day with people close to me. My views on Marriage have certainly changed throughout the years; looking at other people’s relationships and the pressures of being married just because everyone else is. The financial strains and unnecessary arguments over the type of flowers you want as a centerpiece. A lot of people lose sight of what getting married actually means.

There are certain changes that affect marriage; it can be political, sociological and financial. Is there a valid reason to getting married? In every religious book – it is written as an important part of life, a rite of passage. However, latest statistics in 2015 shows that the cohabiting couple family continues to be the fastest growing family type in the UK, reaching 3.2 million. So does getting married really make that much of a difference when, bluntly put – it’s a contract to seal the deal and be able start pro-creating?

Marriage today is certainly different from what it was back then. So I decided that I needed to understand if there’s a viable purpose. I couldn’t really find it here in the UK, so as part of my travels to the Philippines, I had to get a different view from someone who lived a very simple life. Who best to ask than my grandmother who thought her parents had the best love story she could ever share. To give you background, marriage in the Philippines, during pre-colonial times, is held for three days and was officiated by a tribal priest or priestess. However, the tradition in our tribe is two weeks of celebration that involved a lot of food, drinking and various rituals to celebrate the union, not just of the couple but both families.

As I arrived in San Juan, I witnessed that I was far from London; the blistering heat, rice fields, the smell of burning leaves and women walking with baskets on top of their heads. It was simple living. The house was surrounded by flowers; from orchids, roses to the sweet smelling Ylang Ylang. Furthermore, there were mango and coconut trees that seem to grow into the house. The house was made out of bamboo, rosewood, oak and based with cement. The courtyard has aged with authentic beauty. There she was sweeping the grounds with a ‘walis tambo’. She greets me with such emotion, squeezes my arms as if she couldn’t believe that I was there. The first thing she asks was if I was hungry. Even if I wasn’t, it would be rude not to.

After a few days of taking it all in; the culture, the heat and the food, I was ready to ask her. She had just returned from mass and suggested we have ‘merienda’. This consisted of drinking orange juice and sweet coffee accompanied by various sweets; glutenous rice in coconut milk. Turon, bananas covered in brown sugar cooked over a barbecue. And my favourite, Mamon cakes; sweet and creamy spongecake topped with creamy cheese. Absolutely luscious. We sat at the long tables and as I endulged on the mirienda, she smiles and begins her story.

My great parents got married at a very young age. Both families agreed to arrange the marriage and the dowry would be that both families combined their land, farms and rice fields. In essence, it was a business deal and another way to beat their competitors. My parents stayed together from the age of 16 until they both passed away. My father died at the aged of 71 from cancer but my mother carried on as if they were still together – she passed away 23 years later and wanted their gravestone to say that they have been married 78 years.

Before they got married; she did not like my him. He however, felt the opposite and had always been intrigued by her. He did not need much convincing from his father to try and get her attention. He started leaving her a box of Yema sweets outside her parents front terrace every last Sunday of the month; 3 pm after mass, with no fail. He would ride his horse from San Rosario to her parents house in San Juan. He would write her name on a piece of paper, folds it in half and places it on top of the box. She waits for him to ride away from the house, picks up the box and opens the note. But there was nothing written on it apart from her name and 14 pieces of sweets contained.

Yema is a type of custard candy made from egg yolks and condensed milk. This is a common Filipino dessert which I used to eat a lot as a young kid; most likely why I was such a chubby child.

She was as stubborn, as stubborn could get. Both family threw a party on several occasions, just so that they would be in the same place. However, this made her even more determined to veer away from the situation, at times embarrassing him during debates on political and social issues over dinner. He was a farmer, a creative spirit and romantically hopeless. She, a silver tongue, good with numbers and attention to detail. Although appeared to be a closed book to everyone else, he saw this vivacious wit about her and was determined to capture her attention.

After 13 boxes of Yema’s later; both their parents, the Villa’s and Capistrano’s became frustrated that they weren’t making progress. So they decided to plan ahead without their consent. At the end of March 1910; like clockwork, she looks out of her window and scanned the terrace. She did not see a box and searched around the house just in case someone had taken them in. She surprised herself and thought it was ludicrous how she was reacting. She then asks her 12 year old cousin, Felix to run across town and buy her a bag of sweets with the same colour wrapping as the sweets she received from Sofio. She hands him some coins and takes one of the candy wraps out of one of the boxes. These boxes were stacked against her dresser, with the wrappers neatly pressed inside them.

An hour passed and as she saw Felix appear across the rice fields, she gleamed. As he came closer, she notices that they were not in the same wrapping. Felix tells her that all the Yema’s he could find were all wrapped in emerald and blue paper. Sofio’s sweets were wrapped in dark rose pink and delicately twisted to the shape of a pyramid and placed inside the bamboo box. The end of April came and again nothing arrived, not even an invitation to the Capistrano’s harvest celebration. Only 2 weeks of blistering heat and 2 weeks of constant downpour. And for once she let her emotions show.

After much frustration and disbelief of her behaviour, she asked her father if she could travel into the city with him for Business. Usually it would take quite some persuasion and quarreling for him to agree to this. But he answered with such enthusiasm that she felt like she should ask him the question again. Her Mother disapproved of course and felt very uneasy at the decision and argued with her father that evening. Women in those days were not supposed to involve themselves in business. Although phased by the response he had given her, she hastily packed her suitcase ready for the next days early rise. It was a good seven days distraction to look forward to.

Sofio, being the naive boy; was told by his father that she had accepted the union and therefore was not allowed to see her 2 months before the celebration starts. He was overjoyed and marked the days against the mango tree that his great Grandfather had planted in the middle of their courtyard.

He would spend every Sunday afternoon laying under the tree, drawing her eyes over and over again on his sketch book. His father grew sick of this sight and at times would shout at him from the terrace above so that he would stop such behaviour. The closer the day drew upon them, the more exhilarated he became. This made the Capistrano’s feel a sense of guilt to see their only son count down to the day he finds out that it was all a lie.

A day after she and her father departed, the Capistrano family arrived at the Villa’s family home to mark the two week celebration before the wedding.They couldn’t believe how easy it was to keep the arrangement a secret away from both of them. They used the harvest celebration as an excuse to get the families together.

Traditionally, the Groom and his family would spend seven days at the Bride’s home, and vice versa with the Bride’s family spending the final week at the Groom’s home. This was a symbol of approval that they are happy for Sofio to assume responsibility for their daughter, it was also a celebration of the two families uniting as one. The women gathered together preparing food and talking of mischief while  Sofio and his soon to be brother-in-laws were cutting up bamboo trees to make a long table for the courtyard. Everyone was in good spirits, even more so was Sofio.

Charlotte arrives as both families sat down to eat. The chatter mellowed as she approached the table and sits at an empty seat opposite Sofio’s mother. Charlotte, sharp-faced and pristine looked at his mother straight in the eyes as she took a napkin and places it delicately on her lap and says “You look beautiful Mrs. Capistrano. Mother’s unwell, so father thought I ought to take her place instead. He was to attend, but had only arrived this afternoon from the city. I understand that your future daughter-in-law made quite a spectacle of herself and has taken over one of our business deals.So he’s decided to stay home and REST, quite funny really”, she then looks over amusingly at Sofio,”I assumed she would be back by now. I hear that she was quite upset after my father had spoken to her about something she was not aware of – left Mr. Villa in quite a state”. 

Mr. Capistrano stood up and tells her to leave. “We did not invite your family,  you have been misinformed. I think it’s best you leave and take care of your mother.” Charlotte was not at all shocked by this and grinned as she stood up off her seat. “I only came to let you know of what happened and that my father has renegotiated the terms of the deal and is now doing business with one of your biggest competitors instead…” she picks up a bottle of whiskey and pours a third of the way “I think this may have been all down to the actions of your daughter-in-law, trying to fit in shoes that are far too big for her…a toast to the future. We could have been a better suit”, she takes a small sip, smiles and as she started walking out of the courtyard, Mr. Villa appears with his livid daughter.

She stops for a moment to witness Charlotte walk by her with a grin on her face,she trailed her departure as she reached the gates. She turns back towards the courtyard and to her disbelief, it seemed  all true. Her parents had gone behind her back and planned for her to wed without her consent. She ignores Sofio, as he walks towards her. She locked herself away and sobbed for days. Not only was she told that her parents went behind her back, but also that Charlotte was originally promised to wed Sofio as part of Mr. Capistrano’s business deal. However, the Villa’s met and created a better plan for both families which angered Charlotte’s father and on top of losing another business deal, especially to a daughter of a Villa family. Charlotte’s father told her that Sofio was instructed to pursue her however he could so that she would agree to the marriage. That was of course was not entirely true.

Six days had passed in the Villa household and one more day until the family would have to decide whether the wedding should continue. Sofio tried for days to speak to her but she would not see him. On the 6th night, she decided to join them for the final dinner and did not utter a word until the plates where cleared away. She announces that she’d go ahead with marrying Sofio but under the conditions that after the Wedding, she’d like to live by herself for one year. She also wanted to make her own money by taking over the fish farm that her family had neglected and wanted to turn it into a business. Another condition was that Sofio was not to see her for 6 months after the Wedding.

Sofio of course did not agree with this and in disbelief that this was happening. He had waited 2 months to see her again; she looked so happy the last time he saw her come out of her house to pick up the box of sweets outside the terrace doors. It wasn’t her living on her own for a year, or making her own money that Sofio was angry about. It was the length of time he had to wait to see her again. After she had said her terms, she kisses her mother on the cheek, said goodnight to everyone at the table and walks away without acknowledging Sofio or her father. This crushed both men quite deeply; Sofio got up, took an opened bottle of rum and walks away from the house. His father get’s up abruptly and asks him to return to the table. Mrs. Capistrano gently squeezes his hand and ushers her husband to sit back down. Mr. Villa joined them at the table, poured himself a drink and served food on his plate; the sense of regret was strong.

On the day of the wedding, both Families welcomed their guests at the Grooms home. The Bride and Groom’s Godparents were a list of politicians, celebrities, rich businessmen whose main purpose was to hand the newlyweds a hefty envelope, to generally make new business deals and show off their wealth. Tables of extended relatives and friends were invited because it was rude not to or to those who, guaranteed will feel insulted if not invited. This meant that Charlotte and her parents attended also. It’s when the most arguments happen between relatives. The guest list was almost endless. This was not something Sofio wanted.

She stepped out of the carriage with her Mother walking ahead of her.She wore a traditional dress, soft silk and detailed with a lace finish; a flower in the shade of jade gripped the side of her ear. She held a fan and a white silk handkerchief, poised and elegant. Her hair was long, dark and delicately braided like a fishtail which rested on her left shoulder. She looked to the pebbles on the ground as she walked towards the courtyard where the guest waited for their arrival. The sound was sharp and shattering. She stopped for a moment to calm her nerves and forced a gentle smile for her mother as she approached Sofio. They were man and wife.

The courtyard was filled with lanterns, in blue and white. The tables were long and majestic, decorated with beautiful white and purple orchid centerpieces. The guests dressed traditionally; the women in opulent colours, gleaming jewelry and the men in their ‘Barong’(Fabric made out of silk and pineapple fabric). The groom and the bride including their parents sat on a separate table, facing the guest tables; set as if staged like the royalties. It was all a game and they all knew this. They both played their roles quite well all evening.. She locked her emotions until the right time came, when she was alone.

The money dance came announced. Sofio held out his hand to her, but instead of reaching back, she walks over to the middle of the dance floor. He followed swiftly, placing both hands around her waist and her arms softly resting on his shoulders in position as the music came. They danced slow and orderly; she looked through him. The guests approached as money was pinned onto their garments one by one. This represented the wish that good fortune comes upon them. Good fortune? She thought to herself; it was far from what she wanted. What she wanted was out of his arms; her anger started brewing and it showed. He felt this and to both their luck, the guests waved over to the dance floor so fast and the next thing they knew, they were apart.

She couldn’t sleep that night and decided to go for a walk to ease her mind. Sofio was laying back, in the dark, against the mango tree in the courtyard. She follows a pebbled path behind the house which led to the view of the San Rosario river. The light of the sun due to rise peaked above the mountains. The air smelt of of sweet soil and flowers, it was to be a beautiful morning. Sofio approaches behind her, without a word she turns to him. He walks over and hands her a sealed brown envelope with her name on it. He tells her not to open it until she was ready. She hesitated for a moment and stares him in the eyes. She could see his desperation; she takes the letter, walks back into the courtyard and into the guest room where she laid awake until the sun came out. As agreed, he would not see her for six months and that’s exactly what happened.

She grew a beautiful garden with various vegetables and orchids at the front of her dainty house. She felt grown and content. She hired a couple in their late forties to help with the fish farm. They were kind, hard working and knew so much more than she did, but she learned the trade.They treated her as if they were their own daughter. The last day of the 6 month came, it was October; at the peak of the heat in Laiya. For 6 months she worked hard with the fish farm located at the bottom of the mountains; it would take a few hours to reach it from the beach. Her mother visited often with her father; although they spoke only a few words in the first 3 months, he forgave them both at the fourth.

As the morning heat presented itself, she prepared a jug of watermelon water, grabbed some sweet bread, two glasses and sat outside her front garden. She reaches out of her dress pocket; it was the letter. She had read the letter the night before she left Sofio’s home. She read it every morning for 6 months.

“I’ve loved you since the day you walked into my parents courtyard. You wore a dark pink rose behind your ear that matched the silk handkerchief you were twisting with your hands while you sat alone. I asked your father for permission for your hand the next day. He asked me what being a man meant; I couldn’t answer this question so he told me to return to him when I knew what it meant. I started delivering boxes of sweets to your door, wrapped in the same shade of colour as the rose you wore. I waited for you to pick them up outside your door, but you wouldn’t appear until I’d left. Your mother caught me once and laughed at me as I slipped and fell to my surprise. Thirteen boxes of Yema’s later, I saw you smile and nothing has ever made me complete than seeing how happy you were. That day I told your father what being a man meant. I told him although a father can teach his boy how to be a man, it takes a woman to show furthermore than what it is to be a man. I hope to see you in six months, filled with joy to see me again – the same joy I saw after the 13th box of Yema. Sofio 

She folded this letter and places it on the table. She looked around her house and what she had achieved. She wasn’t quite sure why she had decided to do all this on her own, all she knew was that she had to, for both her and Sofio.

The sun began setting and the wind blew with comfort around her face. A slight touch of sadness came about her as another hour passed and Sofio did not arrive. As night drew closer, she decides to walk back into the house and shut the door behind her.

The next day came and still no knock on the door. She pulls the windows open to shed light into the house. As she opens the front windows to the house, a box was placed on the table and a note pinned underneath this box. She opens the front door and takes the note from under the box.

“To my dearest wife Juana,

Here is the 14th box of Yema. You will not see my face until I see that smile. Shall we start from the beginning? Just so you remember what it feels like to fall in love again.

Your husband.”

She cried with so much happiness, it was more happiness than they both could imagine. He suddenly appears at the front gates. She places the letter folded on the table, walks into the house and returns with a jug of watermelon juice and two glasses. She sits and pours. He walks over slowly,  sits right next to her. She opens the box and offers him a sweet. He smiles and takes a piece.The rest, is history.

He never stopped giving her these boxes of sweets even after he died, he had asked his family to make sure she receives one at the last Sunday of every month.

That’s what being married should mean. It is what comes before and after you take someone’s hand that matters. Understanding responsibility and having  foundation built on respect. She valued her principles and he delivered patience. Love is not a convenience it’s the willingness to create an impact big enough that the story can be told a thousand times for generation. So when you meet someone, know them well. Create a symbol as simple as that 14th box of Yema.

 

Sun, Seaweed & Self discovery

What do we really understand about Self discovery? Below are the questions I listed before my trip to the land of the Gods. It was not as hard as I’d expected to answer them because each day I spent on my own, I answered each one. What’s amazing is that I’d discovered these answers in 2 instances. The very beginning of trip and the last day of the trip; the middle seemed to be a blur.

  1. What’s my drive being that I am the asset?
  2. Do I Trust myself?
  3. Do I know my flaws?
  4. Are you proud of who you are?

Day 1 – 2.22am, a cup of coffee and Norah Jones 

It was an early rise for me but a last minute packing and an Uber taxi request. For the first time, I left it down to uber-luck rather than booking it in advance. The journey was a swift, silent and steady ride accompanied by a crisp cold breeze creeping through the drivers window. Just as the driver slipped over to the drop off point, my phone alarm goes off prompting my departure time to 5.55am. My arrival at the airport gave me enough time to have breakfast, nurse my nerves and gather my thoughts on travelling on my own.

As expected Gatwick airport was quiet; I realize it’s by far my airport of choice. Why? Because it had the right amount of what you need before departing. Any other airport I’d been to either; had too much that you could miss your flight and get lost or, so bare that security was lacking.

As I sipped my coffee and started writing my thoughts, in such perfect timing the right music plays as I pressed shuffle. A soft gently rising acoustic beat played and Norah Jones sings to me ‘Sunrise…sunrise, looks like morning in your eyes…‘. Suddenly this gleam of contentment crept in. It’s amazing what music can do to your day. It helped put things into perspective. I was travelling alone, although nervous – I had my coffee and Norah Jones.

“Music; without it, life would not have Life” J.F

LIFE.png

Athens Airport was as hectic as I expected it would be and just the same as the arrivals in Manila airport; the heat and dust hits you. A few minutes later, you feel the beads of sweat slowly drip at the back of your neck. Apostolis, although with really yellowing teeth made my taxi ride to the center of Athens a pleasant one. He spoke of how he dreams of living in London however the tides of recession prevented this, but he’s very committed in making that a reality by then end of 2016. He was working four incomes; selling jewelry, renting his house during peak times and doing private taxi tours.

The tourist industry seemed to be the main dependency for income to many of the people I’d encountered during my trip.What’s astonishing and perfectly admirable about Apostolis was that he still found means in order to provide the stepping stones towards his dreams. And as corny as that sounded – it was real. I saw the pride he had for himself and it was refreshing.

“What’s astonishing and perfectly admirable about Apostolis was that he still found means in order to provide the stepping stones towards his dreams. And as corny as that sounded – it was real.”

Day 7 – Sunset, Friends & Seaweed

Mykonos at first glance was beautiful. The second time even more beautiful than the first. It had authenticity that most places I’ve seen don’t.

Mykonos

It was around 5am when we got back to our Villa. Still drunken and in high spirits from the Benny Benassi rave, we decided to jump into the ocean not realizing that we’d jumped in mostly seaweed infested water; until waking up from a few hour’s sleep. We witnessed the sun rising as the wave swayed us back and forth.

It’s rare to catch moments like that and be able to share it with new people.We talked of past and present relationships and general life goals. Some of us looked for change and others taking a break from the fast lane. But if we listed all the things we wanted on a piece of paper; it’s the reassessing of where we were in life; it’s about ticking the boxes and adding more boxes to tick.

“It was all about ticking the boxes and adding more boxes to tick…”

I’ve ticked a few boxes during the last few days of my travels and it’s one of the most satisfying things in life. I’d met people I never thought I could, I even saw a depiction of how I’d like to be with someone; dancing salsa as we queued up for a taxi. Having  random conversations over a bowl of seafood pasta at a candle-lit restaurant or sharing a ‘fifth’ of Vodka (As Julie would say). I was fully myself with these people.

Although it was only for a short period of time – It’s a great memory with no expectations and no reservations. What makes it even more wonderful is that it’s a story that I can share without hesitation.

We wished we all had more time together and sighed at the thought of returning home. Apart from waking up fully covered in seaweed, my last day was simple. I’d spent it with two beautiful souls from L.A. – Tela & Yas. They were such warm, naturally beautiful and friendly souls; I felt as if they were my sisters as we laughed and joked around. Speaking of new boxes to tick, my goal is to visit them next year and create more memories together.

We rode on our ATV and got to what looked like a rest stop at the highest point of Mykonos. The food was so delicious and so much cheaper than the cost of what we’d normally pay in Mykonos town. I sat silent while I ate my food. This wasn’t due to lack of conversation, this was because I was saddened by the thought of departing. Time went quite quickly and the next thing I knew, Tela and myself rushed to meet Panos at the pick up point and 20 minutes later, I was back on a plane listening to Yuna’s ‘Someone out of Town‘.

To answer what I understand about self discovery? It’s finding out where you want to go next and the type of people you’d like to experience new things with. It’s the choice of travelling on your own, taking risks and talking to a total stranger. It’s the ability to see furthermore, even at the end of the most memorable day.

Another important thing about self discovery is that you end up looking at what you’ve already achieved and appreciate how you got there. If you’re not able to do that – it’s time to reassess; pack your bags, take a break and list out the things you’d like to answer with an addition of good weather and possibly meeting new people.

“It’s the ability to see furthermore, even at the end of the most memorable day.”

To get a better sense of this reading; here’s a video to give you a visual taste; appropriately titled, ‘Sun, Seaweed & Self Discovery‘. A special thanks to Julie, Phil, Tela and Yas for being the best additions to my trip.