#I already am very much ignoring 70% of food groups the least I can do is eat something that qualifies as real food

[malachitezmeyka]

It’s all “take care of your inner child!! Treat them the way you wanted to be treated years ago and it’ll help you heal!!” until said inner child is throwing a tantrum about having to go eat dinner

[old-hyper-super-clover]

For the requests‚ what about a family trip to the beach with Purgatory Hall + the royals and MC? Like Simeon and Barbatos setting up a picnic table meanwhile MC and Luke play around in the sand searching for shiny or strange things to building a sand castle (everything also keeping Solomon and Diavolo far from the preparations for the picnic)‚ playing with water guns or swimming. And after eating maybe playing a match of volleyball sand, admiring the sunset till it's nigth time and before going back‚ playing with fireworks, do a little stargazing or something--

Feel free to ignore this and thanks in advance anyway~

FINALLY I've come to write something for this lovely request. It's packed with so many fun ideas that I kinda went overboard with it xD this means the story is so big I'll have to split it into two posts!

To Bisshitu: I wanted to thank you for your continuous support! I see you in my notifs a lot and I really appreciate it!! (ALSO I AM SO SORRY YOU'VE WAITED SO LONG I HOPE YOU WILL STILL ENJOY THIS CHAOS)

Literally just 13 idiots on a beach trip~

Part 1

MC was leaning against one of the walls in the giant entrance halls of the House of Lamentation. Standing next to them, Solomon handed MC an opened bag of spicy newt chips. "Want some?" He asked and MC gladly took a few while constantly watching the commotion that was going on in the rest of the hallway.

Who would've guessed that going on a vacation with the seven rulers of hell would involve the most panicked, loud and chaotic packing of bags to have ever existed?

Well, let's be real, MC did expect it, but maybe not to the degree that they were in amusement about now.

The oldest brother had called the others for a "luggage check" as he had been sceptical of his brothers' talents in packing reasonable items in an, likewise reasonable, amount of suitcases and bags.

And of course, the first one to show up had to present his luggage in the form of... nothing.

Yes, Beelzebub came up to Lucifer, only the remains of a sandwich in his hand (which didn't last longer than three more seconds), confused when Lucifer mustered him with an angered glance.

"Where's your luggage?" Lucifer asked, to which Beel only gave a shrug.

"We're going to the beach, right? Which means I'll only need my swimming trunks, and I wear those underneath my pants."

Now the confusion has wandered over to rest on Lucifer's face. "But... Won't you need clothes to change into, or at least pyjamas for the night?"

"Hm..." Beel scratched the back of his head while thinking about Lucifer's words. "Nah, I don't need those. I'm planning to stay at the beach all the time, so..." Then suddenly, he gasped as he remembered something. "Wait, I do have something else prepared to bring along!"

Beel reached into his pocket, and when he pulled out a hand-written list that unrolled itself, plonking onto the carpet and rolling all the way to Lucifer's feet, the avatar of Pride knew exactly what said list was going to be.

"There are a few food stands that I'd like to try out..." Beel announced, eyeing the paper. "First of all, there's one selling shaved ice, which I want to compare to the ice-cream from this other stand, but who's also selling parfaits of which I kind of want to try all twenty-five flavours... Also then there's of course-"

"Beel" Lucifer interrupted the avatar of Gluttony in a strict tone. "Go pack a proper bag."

"But-"

"Now."

Letting out a sigh, Lucifer watched as Beel left.

But little did he know, this had only been the beginning of the chaos...

Moments later, Lucifer has found himself explaining to Satan why taking 70 different books with him would be ridiculously much. Also Mammon had taken this opportunity to "lend" some of his brothers possessions, arguing that he "needed those for the beach". This had worked until his swift fingers touched Levi's limited edition Ruri-chan sunscreen.

So, as Lucifer was spam-calling Belphie to wake him up and finally have him start packing, a sudden argument could be heard from upstairs:

"... How dare you steal my precious Hana Ruri 'magical sun ray protective lotion for all blooming heroes of justice'?! This very sunscreen is an homage to the legendary beach episode where Azuki-tan got a sunburn and couldn't help Ruri-chan in the intense battle against the evil kelp-army that was threatening to overgrow the local reef-"

"OKAY OKAY, HERE'S YOUR STUPID CREAM NOW LEAVE ME ALONE"

"S-STUPID CREAM?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PRECIOUS THIS ITEM IS TO A FAN LIKE-"

That was all Lucifer could understand as an awfully annoyed scream Mammon let out was drowning Levi's gibberish. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lucifer knew this vacation was going to be one intense experience...

An hour later, the group found itself where this little story had started off. The Purgatory Hall crew had already arrived long ago, enjoying the chaos together with MC -- who, btw, had been the only one to pass Lucifer's vibe luggage check right away.

Slowly it felt like most of the brothers were ready to go, only Asmodeus was left in the judgemental glare of the avatar of Pride.

But Lucifer noticed they already were way behind the time they were supposed to meet Diavolo at his castle. So, to Asmo's luck, he let off of trying to see what's inside the pretty boy's suitcase and announced the group's departure.

In enthusiasm shared by almost everyone, they let out a big cheer:

"Off to the beach we go!"

Some of the demons had whined about wanting to visit the human world beach. But as those idiot boys literally couldn't be trusted to act responsibly (which is okay, we love them regardless), Diavolo offered to stay at the beach resort he created in the Devildom.

Looking over the endless ocean, surrounded by the equally large beach and glistening in an artificial sun's light, MC was wondering just how powerful the demon prince must be to have created all this. But they were left only little time to be in awe over the location, as their friends demanded their attention shortly after having arrived.

Without going into much detail -- the day was packed with lots and lots of fun. MC was running around the beach, playing and goofing around with their friends, only to take a collective rest and then go do something silly again. Only a few other demons were to be found at the resort, but those were some acquaintances of Diavolo's family, and the group seemed to have scared them off of the beach after, like, an hour or so. Hence, the whole beach served as their playground for whatever activity they wanted to do, until in the afternoon, most of them were about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger.

"That's right, we didn't really have a proper meal since coming here" Asmo noticed as several tummy grumbles undermined his statement.

"We DID bring a picnic basket..." Satan mumbled. "But some genius had to let Beel carry it."

The culprit gave an immediate pout. "I had to hurry, 'kay?!" Mammon huffed. "MC was already at the beach and I--" he stopped. "... U-uh... I mean..."

Gaining a round of sighs and shaking heads, his brothers however decided to let Mammon's... mammon-ness slide for once. Mostly because, approaching from the distance, Barbatos and Solomon were getting closer, their hands full with bags that seemed to be stuffed with food.

"Y-yoU BroUGhT S-nAcKs?!" Beelzebub was already on his feet running towards them but Barbatos' stare was actually enough to make him stop.

"Not before the dishes are prepared, Beelzebub" Barbatos explained calmly, but with this very weird hidden tone in his voice that gave everyone chills despite the scorching summer heat.

"We figured everyone must be starving by now, so Barbatos suggested we'd make a little picnic party with everyone" Solomon cheered, presenting the bags in his hands.

"That sounds lovely" Simeon could be heard among the general noise of approval. "Let me help you prepare everything, Barbatos."

The demon butler beamed him a smile, thanking the angel for his help.

Then, Solomon spoke up again, and every bit of joy vanished from all their faces: "Thank you, Simeon! With the three of us working together the food will be ready in no time!"

--------------

Barbatos was putting all kinds of spices into a bowl to create a delicious sauce. Right next to him, Simeon prepared mouth-watering sandwiches.

And behind their back, there was this chopping sound. Chop reaching their chop ears in an chop never- chop ending thread, over and chop over again...

Swallowing his tension, Simeon was fighting a frown. "He's only cutting the fruits..." He whispered. "You shouldn't be able to mess up a fruit salad..."

"I know" Barbatos mumbled back. "However I cannot fight this unease that urges me to check if he's really-" He was interrupted by a very unsettling "oops" coming from that certain sorcerer at the cutting board.

In honestly quicker than the blink of an eye Simeon and Barbatos were at Solomon's side, frantically scanning the table for whatever Solomon must've messed up. When all they found were slices of fruit that, well, might have been chopped a bit wonky, they gave Solomon a confused stare.

"I cut off too much of this poor Hellberry's pull" Solomon explained. "Oh well, I'll just cut around the stem and add it to the fruit salad like this."

Both Barbatos and Simeon couldn't help but stare for a moment longer, their brains not really comprehending NOT finding an abomination in Solomon's cooking.

"Can I help you two with anything?" The sorcerer then asked.

"U-uhm, no..." Simeon mumbled. "It's all fine, we just..."

"We wanted to see if there's anything we can help you with" Barbatos jumped in to continue.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Actually I'm almost finished, so maybe I can help one of you afterw-"

"Nononononono...!" Simeon almost whined. "I-its fine! We're actually almost finished ourselves, so..."

Solomon looked back, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like it to me..."

Suddenly, another voice joined the group.

"I agree! You two are likely just being humble again" Diavolo had walked up to their working station a moment ago, but neither of them seemed to have noticed in their stress. The prince continued: "That's why I decided to lend you a hand as well. This is a vacation for all of us, so I should not burden my loyal butler with all the work."

"That's a commendable attitude for royalty like yourself" Solomon cheered. "Well then, I think Simeon and Barbatos could use a hand."

Diavolo was already squeezing his quite broad body into the tiny cooking space, this certain over-excited sparkle in his eyes as he mustered the food.

Barbatos and Simeon on the other hand were exchanging glances, so immensely stressed that their thoughts were almost audible:

'Barbatos I don't think I can handle any more of this stress' Simeon stared.

'We shouldn't have let Solomon help in the first place, our kindness was foolish' Barbatos stared back.

'What do we do now Barbatos this is the only food we have left, they cannot ruin it'

Thankfully, the perfect butler was not planning to let their "help" threaten the food for any longer. "Young master, I highly appreciate that you thought of my well-being. Which is why I indeed have a request for you and Solomon."

Simeon almost barged in on a frightened impulse, but Barbatos continued before anyone could raise their voice. "There is dessert stored in our hotel's main storage. Would you be so kind and bring enough for our whole group?"

A little surprised, Diavolo agreed. He waited for Solomon to finish cutting the fruits, then they went off to the hotel.

Finally able to catch a breath, Simeon shot Barbatos a last glance. "That was easier than expected. Why didn't we let Solomon bring the desserts earlier?"

Back to mixing spices, Barbatos didn't look up at the question. "What desserts?" He simply asked.

"... Uhm..." Simeon was quite startled. "Are there... Are there no desserts in the storage room...?"

"Oh, I sure hope there are" Barbatos said. "Otherwise I will have some explaining to do..."

-------------

(To be continued...)

Find my summer event Masterlist and Rules for the requests here <3

[purplesurveys]

1200

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yeah, when my mom was pregnant with my brother.

What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I have red shorts on at the moment.

When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last Friday, I’d say? Hahaha. Counted down the hours and minutes before the Butter MV drop, celebrating and freaking out with Army when it finally came out, watched the OT7 VLive that happened that afternoon, and streamed the video for nearly 24 hours straight so we could break some records, all of which we ended up achieving. It feels great to stan a group again after being out of the loop for so long lol.

What was the scariest moment of your life? A few men have lunged towards me - just to get attention, I guess? - in the past, while I was just peacefully walking. I always hear them snickering once I’ve flinched, and I always ended up crying once I’ve processed the situation.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? I know of the name, but I have no clue who he is or what he does (did?).

Pancakes or flapjacks? I don’t even know what flapjacks are, so let’s go with pancakes.

What kind of computer are you on? I’m using a Macbook Air.

Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? Yes. Minced pork with eggplant.

What are you usually doing at midnight? On weekdays, I spend it in bed, either watching videos or already reading fanfics to get ready to turn in. On Friday nights and weekends, I will usually be found on the rooftop taking a survey or two.

Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No, I’ve never developed feelings for another person while in a relationship.

If so, how did it turn out?

Give me your brief definition of love. I will always stick by this quote, “Love never says, ‘I have done enough.’”

What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? This is subjective, of course, but personally I find it to be thighs.

What kind of shoes do you wear? I’m not wearing any at the moment; but in general, I like to wear sneakers.

What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Physical violence.

Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope.

Do you like the smell of coconuts? Not so much. I like coconut milk, though.

What is the heaviest you think you can lift? I think my personal best was like 60 or 70 lbs, back when I had weight training classes for PE in college. I remember being in so much pain once I gave the 80 lbs barbell a shot.

Do you take Tums? No.

Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? ...Ugh. I’m pretty sure I’ve taken this survey very recently but I might as well just take it again because I don’t feel like searching for another. Anyway, I haven’t... at least not that I can remember.

How about under one? Definitely not.

At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? I was around 12 when I was starting to feel confused about getting nervous around Andi.

Do you feel that way around anyone now? I don’t.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No haha but I usually bring my phone with me to keep me company.

Do you ever sing to yourself? Pretty often.

What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves.

How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? I don’t have a main goal set in life. I just live in the now and try to do things or make decisions that would keep me consistently happy.

Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? HAHAHAHAHA definitely took this recently; this is so embarassing. No, I still don’t know about this song.

What is your main heritage? Filipino.

What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles and I find them absolutely nasty, but there are other pickled things I like, like radishes.

What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta.

If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? No thanks. I’m not capable of providing them proper care.

How about a farm animal? I would just stick to dogs.

So, do you have hoes in different area codes?

What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? I’ve been in a BTS bubble for a solid month or so and I honestly can’t tell you my opinion about songs that have recently come out, because I literally don’t know any.

What is a song that you hate to admit you like? There isn’t any I’m guilty about.

What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Knowing I’ll feel accomplished once I do it.

Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Never anymore. I used to browse through it only when I was a lot younger.

Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Both.

What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? The Transformers series, lol.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? I always liked clay and I never really graduated from that interest, since I find the texture fascinating and fun to play with.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Sure.

If so, what did you do? I had my first sip of alcohol at Kaira’s 18th birthday and I was feeling left out since literally everyone else was drinking. For vaping, Gabie introduced it to me; and for smoking, it was another case of FOMO that made me want to try it out.

What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? My back.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk? I don’t take note of that kind of attention, anyway; I would find it creepy.

How many people do you know for sure to be interested in you right now? Zero.

What is a good name for a turtle? I think it would be the same process as the way I think it would be for any other pet; it would depend on their personality, their aura, etc. 

Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Not really. I can read Hangul and am familiar with the different tonalities used in Korean but I wouldn’t say my imitation would be considered spot-on.

Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Yes.

What makes a good kisser a good kisser? When they know how to use their tongue in a teasing way, for one. Eugh it’s too early for this lol

How many times a year do you have a family thing? What even is a family thing?

What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I don’t like smoothies.

Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? Yup, especially when I’m either eating somewhere pricey or when I’m eating at one of my favorite restaurants.

What do you dislike most about where you live right now? It’s a pretty uneventful city, and if I want to have some fun I always have to go to Manila.

Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yup.

Are you watching your weight? No.

Have you ever became really good friends with someone you found online? Yes. Aliyah and I are still friends and I’m glad we’ve been able to maintain our friendship even after mine and Gab’s falling out. It’s a shame the three of us didn’t get to meet in real life though, and it will 100% never happen now. I also used to have a group of Twitter friends back in my wrestling stan days but it’s been a very long time since we’ve gone our separate ways. I have yet to find friends on Army Twitter but I really doubt I would get to build established friendships any time soon because EVERYONE IS SO YOUNG OVER THERE

What makes your best friend your best friend? They understand me better than anyone else does.

Do you have a drunk uncle? I have a couple of them.

Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope.

What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Ignoring this question.

What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Also ignoring this.

What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? I find line tattoos to be pretty cool and beautiful in general. The minimalist look it goes for works really well.

Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? That vase I molded during my Vigan trip :) It was the first (and so far) only thing I’ve made from scratch, and even though I didn’t get to take it home, I’m still glad I had the opportunity to try pottery.

Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? No? That’s pretty wasteful. I eat the whole cookie.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? Hahahahaha. Yes.

If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? Not anymore, no.

Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Most likely as a stupid teenager when I didn’t know any better.

Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and Laurice.

If so, what about them do you like most? They’re very easy to talk to, and they’re both selfless and generous.

What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My mom is making dinner while I believe everyone else is just on their phones waiting for the dish to be made.

What is the most money you've ever had at one time? I don’t remember the exact amounts anymore but my mom used to hand me cheques and regularly assign me to pay for me and my sister’s tuition back in grade school and high school, since she had work during the day and didn’t have time to stop by the school herself.

How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? I don’t know but definitely longer than what would be considered a decent duration for a fit person.

Look down. What do you see? I can see my legs but just barely since it’s dark out.

What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Topics I don’t know too much about.

What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? BTS, my field, and history.

What kind of mood were you in most of today? Comfortable. We had the aircon on all day and I just watched BTS MVs and live performances, and I don’t really feel bad about being unproductive for once.

Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Just once or twice.

Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. Togepi.

What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Tell me hurtful words.

What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk...maybe cut them off unexpectedly? I'll usually have no problem doing this with people who make me uncomfortable.

How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Nothing. She’s not in my life.

How about the last person (your last ex)? She’s the same person.

What is the best invention ever invented? The internet.

What is something that needs to be invented? Not a completely new invention but I wish programs that can identify songs for you, like Siri, can be more improved to be able to recognize songs just by humming the tone. So far they can only name songs if you play it clearly for a few seconds, but it can be a hassle if I wanna have access to a certain song but only remember the melody and otherwise have no idea what the lyrics are or who sang them.

Describe your eyes. I don’t think they’re anything special. I don’t count them as a striking feature of mine.

What always makes you burp? Eating quickly. And beer.

What is something you hate doing that most couples do? There isn’t anything.

What's your astrological sign? Taurus.

What are you doing tomorrow? I wanna finally watch the Friends reunion special since I didn’t feel like watching it today. I also have a press release to write for one of my clients – they requested for it Friday and want it by Monday :(

[inhalareexhalare]

Memento mori. 

Nynaeve recommended this before, and I loved it and am remembering.

It suddenly started raining.

Karu also said,

"I think I'm gonna be a terrible dad"

Out of nowhere.

We'd just been talking about his gig today about half an hour ago.

I feel a bit down that I can't seem to find the motivation to keep my work space organized, but I think that's because I put it down too much in my priority list. Dr. Seth told me to take one day off of work, to do housekeeping duties, to express how important it is to her.

Awesome.

From Karu:

Wala lang. I remember Aang being a terrible dad [It's nothing. I remember Aang being a terrible dad]

Aang was a terrible dad according to the old airbender guy from Legend of Korra

Apparently it was Katara that took care of the children cause Aang was busy being the Avatar

Kinda like how Naruto is busy being Hokage

Aang's airbender kid was also obviously favored over the non bender and the waterbender

To Karu:

Hahahahaha I see I see

We won't know until we get there, and we'll never know if we don't keep trying :)

God gave man a partner for a reason, so don't start thinking you're on your own

Outside family, there's also a reason why we're a team, remember? :) No man is an island, and no man is big enough to carry out a vision

I am technically your secretary, so don't hesitate to call for me. In fact, I'd love to help

We're still a small ship of a small crew in such a big sea, so of course it's gonna be busy

The burden gets lighter as more pillars are added, and as these pillars are slowly built with strength over time

...we teach the youth what wonders life can do :)

2018-11-07 12:00 Philippines Wednesday

BOOODLE FIIIGHT!!!!

I ATE TONS OF MEAT! Pork. Chicken. Fish!!!

I feel like I got closer with Ms. Charree.

It was the right choice to return to her side when she was left alone coincidentally. She's sociable, but also shy in many ways.

This is always a fun tradition in the Philippines hahaha! I still have a hard time eating rice with my hands though. My hands don't understand how to do it naturally.

“Privileged ignorance”

Born and bred With spoon and fed

Yes. I am one of those sheltered kids. It's one of the reasons why leaving home was particularly radical to the family tree. It seemed the natural thing to do though when words couldn't get through...

Though I think I could have tried other approaches to help them understand my thoughts. I'd never recommend leaving home abruptly.

It first assumes that you cannot trust your family. It also leaves things on a bad note.

Explorer's motto: always leave things better than when you arrived in there.

You'll have no power to fix things, but you always have the option to be kind and give love to others.

I thank God for sharing his strength and giving me courage today. I was able to smile sincerely at Dr. Seth, at Ms. Charree, at Ms. Len, Jun, Marg, and Deanne, and Cecilia—and I realized how much a tiny gesture can help lighten up someone else's day.

2018-11-07 13:00 Philippines Wednesday

Don't stop believing.

Cecilia dragged me into the Brothers' House tour with the rest of the gang. I suppose greeting them all the way to the other side at the boodle fight before returning to Ms. Charee was the right choice.

My intention to be a friend came through!

The brothers are so cool! So human. They make the most of life because they have confidence in the love of Life.

Skating, biking, childish jokes, friendships, rivalries, ambition, doubts, faith, laughter...

Being a brother, one of them said, is not about being worthy as a person, but instead about how God is worthy and all his greatness.

How very true!

To whoever’s out there:

No matter where you are in your life and no matter what position you are put into; whenever that nagging feeling comes—"do I deserve this?" remember that you ask a wrong question.

The question is always whether the cause is worth it or not. Answer that, and you'll know what to do and where to put your energy into.

We do not choose our calling, but we choose our faith and meaning.

Life always puts you where you need to be. Your sole resource is what you believe in.

Don't stop learning, don't stop growing. Be open to new ideas, but also stand up for what you believe in.

2018-11-07 14:00 Philippines Wednesday

It's funny how a person's confidence level can only either increase or decrease as the number of group mates fluctuate.

For me, my leadership instincts work better in small numbers. Big crowds tend to overstimulate me and I go quiet to reserve energy.

The commonality among everyone, I think, is that the extent that individuality is compromised is positively correlated to the number of people (that is part of the group) present.

2018-11-07 14:28 Philippines Wednesday

Don't you get it? The anomaly is us—the consciousness, the ego; entities aren't supposed to think about themselves.

Organisms act according to their survival and self-interest, but they think about and react to outside threats (or opportunities) and predators (or friends). They don't flee (or fight) thinking, "how do I defend myself?"

Rather, they think, "how do I survive from this predator?"

Get it? The focus is on the foreign object.

The same way we flail even after hours of practice just because we become overly conscious of how to do things instead of focusing on the goal which would have naturally assisted us in accomplishing it (since we already did practice and it should all have been muscle memory).

We are minor creatures, swayed and small-mindedly occupied with our shadows. No different from a cat that is enamored by a mere laser point.

This thought occurred out of nowhere. But I remember a video that can show you stuff about performance anxiety:

Still, studying the self has shown exactly how studying the self made us ineffective. Pop quiz. Do you call this a paradox, or an irony?

I rather think it's more of an irony.

2018-11-07 19:00 Philippines Wednesday

Mah keyss.

The girly not-key looks so girly and so unlike me that I like it. It says "Open your mind!" on the tiny pink heart of it.

I think this was an excess Christmas gift when I was in late elementary school days or high school and it used to be a keychain, not a key, but look what I did to it haha

I really like how Ms. Siomai smiles back at me sweetly when I greet her and when I thank them for the meal with my own smiles.

I know she's just being polite, but she seems like she can be an easy-to-talk-to friend.

God always provides enough for his people.

Thank you for this meal.

2018-11-07 20:00 Philippines Wednesday

Peak Meeting adjourned!

Exciting big quests.

“Calm Spell”

I feel sad for some reason, almost to tears But this ain't nothing And it sure as hell ain't everything.

Keep your cool. It's okay. Take it slow.

Focus.

Yana's soul is fuzzy. Like, cozy fuzzy.

She

Tries to reach out to me. In bits, in chewable pieces.

I can feel Her.

Karu and I are out to get the second half of our dinner.

We finally established at tonight's Peak meeting the curfew—23:00. Thank God. Thank you, Ira and Moira.

I don't usually draw that way by the way. I am pretty flexible with art style. The problem? I'm no practitioner. I'm just an on-and-off hobbyist. I'm not even sure I'd count it as a hobby anymore. I used to draw a lot, but then I realized my true love was words.

2018-11-08 00:32 Philippines Thursday

I cried. 

A lot. From about 01:00 to 02:38.

I didn't know whether I'd write about this or not, since it's pretty much an inconvenient coincidence that caused it, but here I am.

After the meeting, Karu and I walked outside to get food, right? While walking with him, I wrote that previous entry above this.

Karu had lots of ideas and stories. He cut himself off at least twice, saying instead that I should finish my entry first since I lose my ideas pretty fast when another thing catches my interest.

Turns out he's the same. Walking together, I kind of sensed his slight frustration. But I didn't make room to dive that thought because I wasn't done finishing my thoughts for the entry yet.

We reach stoplight after stoplight, and he suggests that we can get food from a carinderia (small eatery) instead. Cheaper, healthier.

But I still wasn't done analyzing my thoughts for the entry. I kept typing and told him I leave it up to him, and that I'm good with whatever.

Then I noticed we were heading towards the convenience store instead. Only then was I done with the entry. He got my full attention.

We look at sandwiches. They seemed the best option in there.

But we only got 70 pesos. A sandwich that was even worth our time is at least 39 pesos.

I kept suggesting to him that I can go walk back to the house to get more money and he can wait in the store since I knew how much he disliked the action of going back and forth for such trivial things (even things that matter to him).

But he kept saying that my suggestion made no sense. That we had enough.

That confused me. I tried suggesting the 30-peso hotdog sandwiches. Then he said he didn't feel like eating anymore.

He entrusted the money to me and so I walked inside the convenience store while he remained outside and sat on the sidewalk.

I tried to assess the situation, and I thought maybe he liked the 39-peso sandwiches better than hotdogs, but he didn't want to make me have to resort to a hotdog sandwich just to fit the budget.

So that's exactly what I did. Maybe he'd like the sandwich. He didn't feel like eating anymore but we both knew he needed it.

And we head back home and as expected the first thing he did was light up a cigarette at the dirty kitchen.

It was quick, so I could tell he didn't want to be around people. Job, Ira, and Zenith were around.

Entering our room that I occupied was the lesser evil.

After taking our bites, he finally shared why he's so pissed.

He made his own logical assessment of his emotions.

"You are annoying sometimes."

Firstly, he said, he forgot the ideas he wanted to tell me about. Secondly, for some reason he also wanted me to make our decision as he gave suggestions on where to eat. Lastly, he really just wanted to have the time with me to walk and talk to each other.

This was the first time anything like it happened so I was deeply affected. He left the room for water and I took the chance to cry by establishing the threshold: the point where the tears are about to overflow. I wouldn't let it, and distracted myself with other thoughts until I got my neutral face back and cried silently until I reached the threshold again.

He got back, lied down, and we turned the lights off.

When I couldn't restrain my now willingly hidden tears, I turned my back against him and lied on my left side.

My tears overflowed, dying to spill everything. Everything. I did it all silently. I cried hot tears soundlessly.

He clicked his tongue, as he always did when he got pissed. Either it's because he thought I was just leaving things unfinished and going straight to sleep, or his musician ears caught the irregular breathing of my tear-soaked lungs (figuratively). (Fuck musicians.) After a minute maybe, he apologized for "getting pissed."

I wanted to say that it wasn't something he should apologize to me about, but I couldn't say a word. I knew my voice would betray my tears.

I cried some more in the quiet and then finally got the leaning-positive shade of my personality back when I was satisfied with crying my shit out. I lied down on my right this time, facing him.

I asked if he needed the blanket that was accidentally on his pillow, and he gestured a yes by lifting his head. I had a bit of trouble unfolding it, since it was in a messy fold, and was surprised that he helped me.

His hand traveled under the sheets and took my left leg so it was laying over his, as he usually did to show affection. I couldn't muster the balls to hug him as I usually did to return his affection and he sensed it, taking my left hand to let it rest on his left shoulder.

He asked me what was making me feel bad, since according to his understanding of the situation, no one was to blame. It's not wrong to want to write my journal entries. It's not wrong to want to walk and talk with your wife.

After multiple hesitations and anxiety over his patience (he repeatedly asked me what's up with such gentleness), I finally said that it's because I vowed to be a wife and a partner. But all I am is a failure. He touched my face and confirmed my tears.

It's good that I got to deal with the self-obsession somehow, as I realized halfway how my thoughts are beginning to be overly critical and close-mindedly inward. Still, I felt sad.

I felt too guilty to get over this emotionally-perceived mistake.

He said I have more "successes" than "failures," the complete opposite of him. He asked me to mount him (nothing sexual, although it did come to that later when I promoted it HAHA) so I could hug him more naturally.

I wanted to tell him he's wrong, but all I could do was shake my head to our darkness-adjusted eyes, because my voice kept breaking. I'm bad with crying.

He comforted me, saying he couldn't stay mad at me even if he wanted to, unlike his signature temper.

We basically ended on a kind note, but I still think we didn't end with the good we could have. We ended good in a way, but we still have obsessive dwellings on our respective egos. He still thinks he's a bad husband most of the time, and I still think I'm a bad wife most of the time.

We must find a way to get out of this rut. Replace the mode of thinking. It doesn't help anyone.

Also, as a note, Karu didn't know exactly how we got there either. To that conflict. We're usually more flexible than that. I'm just realized after the fact last "night" that he just came from a gig.

That could actually make sense, but I'm not ready to conclude yet.

[thepermanentrainpress]

POST-MODERN CONNECTION – CREATIVITY IN UNCERTAIN TIMES

Like all good origin stories, Post-Modern Connection came to be following a chance encounter at a university party.

It’s the story they’re sticking with, because it’s what they’ve been told happened.

“It sounds plausible. I threw a lot of parties in my first year,” lead singer and guitarist Tega Ovie said with a laugh.

They’re pretty sure Georges Nasrallah was playing guitar at the party in question and that Ovie – a frequent at open mics at the time – asked him to fill in for a friend at an upcoming gig. They started writing together soon after, diverse musical and cultural backgrounds spinning into something thoughtful, warmly paced, and unexpectedly energetic.

That was four years ago now. The two have finished their post-secondary studies – Nasrallah in computer science and economics and Ovie in business. When I caught up with them on a Thursday evening, they’d gotten off their day jobs just a short time prior.

“I actually don’t mind my 9-to-5. I like stability, so it’s perfect for me,” shared Ovie. Not having to plan around midterms and group projects has allowed them to really ramp up band endeavours; they aim to finish their debut EP this year, and take it on tour in 2021.

Ovie pens most of the lyrics. Him and Nasrallah typically build the framework of their songs before bringing them to the rest of the band – Steven Lin (bass), Mitch Howanyk (violin/keys) and Cam Wilks (drums) – to flesh out even further.

“At our next practice, Mitch will add his violin… maybe change our minds and we’ll do an entirely different riff in that section,” Nasrallah said. “Cam adds his drum beats. I’ll write, like, a basic bassline, then Steven makes it a trillion times better because I’m definitely not a bassist.”

“In some bands, everyone can do what the others do just as well, and I think it’s nice that we can’t [do that],” Ovie said. “Georges is the best at playing guitar, I’m the best at singing, Mitch is the best at violin, Steven’s the best at bass, Cam’s the best at drums. It forces each person to bring their own personality to the table.”

“Drowning” – the group’s latest single – is a testament to that. There is such an ease to Ovie’s vocals, propped against swooning guitar lines and vocal chants. Think ’70s high school prom with a more synth-y, but mentally exhausting disposition.

The emotions of the song are tied to a series of hardships faced by Ovie, his family, and his home country of Nigeria. “Being in university made the whole thing come to the surface and blow up… kind of like what COVID-19 is doing to the rest of world now,” he analogized.

They filmed the music video in a commercial space behind Bright Jenny Coffee (formerly Canoe Coffee Roasters). Directed by Teaghan McGinnis, its Wes Anderson-esque, vintage tones pair well with his resourceful takes on the song’s themes.

Jade of Wolfette Styling coordinated the very cool set decor and outfits.

“We ordered the overalls on Amazon. They’re actually women’s overalls because they’re the only ones that would fit properly,” Ovie said of the band’s matching tie-dye getup – which has already seen stage wear since.

They raised $1500 to produce the video via Kickstarter, and acknowledge the importance of community support for smaller artists like themselves.

“It’s nice to see. Music [streaming and album sales] do not pay the bills; shows are pretty much an artist’s main source of income for continuing to produce content,” explained Nasrallah.

And while these past few months have underlined the challenges of pursuing music full-time, it is still a conversation the group has, “at least once a month.”

“We do have goals with our music, but we’re also not going to say this is all we want to do,” Ovie said. The plan is to move to Vancouver in two to three years, once they’ve widened their fanbase enough to avoid starting from scratch in the western Canada hub.

Prior to Post-Modern Connection – PMC, for short – Ovie was in a couple high school choirs and Nasrallah a couple high school bands. Both learned the piano at a young age—not necessarily by choice, though Nasrallah admits having the theory background helped when he finally picked up the guitar.

“I hated it so much so I don’t remember anything,” Ovie laughed. “We had to do friggin’ Beethoven. I was like, why are we studying Beethoven in Nigeria? What is the point of this?”

Both moved to Kelowna without their immediate families, but are embracing the opportunity to pursue their own interests.

“My mom has always been like, this is your life – you need to be smart with it. I’m not gonna control it for you, but I’m gonna at least get you to a point where you can stand on your own two feet,” said Ovie.

Nasrallah listened to a lot of metal growing up. For Ovie, it was a mix of Afrobeat, rap, and Coldplay. Jazz chords are a staple of their sound, but they also trail into psychedelia and moody rock breakdowns. No two releases have sounded the same and the EP will be no different.

“We try to not make things boring,” said Nasrallah. “We want to start off by setting that expectation.”

Officially joining the band last October, Howanyk gives their sound a classical tilt that sets them apart from many of their indie soul counterparts. He shifts between violin and synths during their live set—the latter something they’d use often in the studio, but never live when they were a four-piece due to the challenges of juggling both it and their guitars.

They will be bringing in additional material on their laptops to further boost the live experience.

“I am super excited,” Ovie said. “It’s our next form.”

Unfortunately, the group had to postpone summer gigs as far east as Manitoba due to COVID-19. Neither Ovie or Nasrallah are particularly fond of Kelowna’s favourite outdoor pastime – hiking – but have been spending time reading fantasy novels, biking, and playing D&D.

They’ve also been using their platform to encourage discussion on Black Lives Matter and meaningful change in the music industry.

“I want to see more people of colour on the board of directors, more people of color labels… more community,” Ovie elaborated. “Blackout Tuesday and The Show Must Be Paused thing doesn’t help anybody. We can do better than this.”

On if they see social commentary becoming more prevalent in their own music, Ovie says he’ll continue to write from personal experience, without the pressures of a narrative.

“To be honest, I don't think I could do it artistically enough. But if my feelings are prevalently caused by what's going on [in the world], then that's probably what I'll write about.”

#PMCeats is a segment on their Instagram stories that started as a jab at each other’s cooking skills.

They’ve branched into rating restaurant food as well, but have no shame in denoting who has the laziest flavour profile in the band.

“Steven brought lentils and white rice to the [“Drowning” video] shoot,” said Ovie. “Unseasoned. I was like woah, what’s going on? Where’s the sauce?”

“Steven’s more of a critique rather than a cook,” Nasrallah added.

Segueing into our signature question [if you could be any ice cream flavour, which would you be and why?], Nasrallah went with Haagen-Dazs coffee because he loves coffee and it feels like part of his Lebanese heritage.

They think Mitch would be something sweet and sour, like lemon or salty caramel. Cam would be a calming flavour like vanilla.

“Steven would not be able to choose, because everything would be 8 out of 10,” joked Nasrallah.

“No, I feel like Steve is more on Cam’s wave… he’s very subtle, but there are a lot of undertones with Steve,” said Ovie. “So instead of just vanilla, strawberry vanilla.”

Ovie couldn’t decide on one flavour, but had some love for local establishments Parlour and Moo-lix—the latter in particular for their waffle cones.

Choosing a band name is a daunting task. When it was just Lin, Ovie and Nasrallah, they considered the Smooth Service (before a friend said it sounded like an escort service), and Triple A – ‘because there was an Arab, an Asian and an African in the band.’

Fortunately, neither name stuck, and when Ovie started thinking about postmodernism, parallels to their charismatic makeup were hard to ignore.

“The whole concept of postmodernism is to reject previous school of thought. To reject labeling, boundaries, and fitting into anything else. That’s kind of [our band] here in Kelowna. We don't fit into anything and that's what we want to keep, too.”

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

[21cannibals]

do ALL for the number ask

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now?

Trying to understand what my place is in the world

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone?

Usually only when they also want something from me

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care?

Not unless it got to the point where they couldn’t do anything without being high

4: Do you find it easy to trust others?

Until they do something to break that trust, yes

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night?

I was hanging out with my new squad singing along to Mr. Brightside lol

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you?

If I’m lost it’s probably because I’m walking home alone

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on?

In the past, probably have a breakdown... now? I’m not so sure

8: Are you close with your dad?

It’s complicated, but not really

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right?

LOL nope

10: What are you listening to?

“Some Nights” by fun

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it?

Water wtf?

12. Do you like hickeys?

Yeah I kinda do tbh

13: What time do you go to bed?

Anywhere between 8pm and 5am

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down?

Yeah, multiple people, but I don’t hold it against them

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both?

No, I mean I can,but its not quite as fast

16: Do you always answer your texts?

Definitely not

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for?

I used to, but I think now I’ve found forgiveness through time, experience, and understanding

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

Just recently!

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them?

Yeah, and I’m really happy they came into my life recently

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

“Oh shit how it it already 3am??”

21: Is anyone else in the room with you?

Nope

22: Do you believe what goes around comes around?

Absolutely

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now?

I’m much happier now

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with?

Yeah, but I think time and distance do more healing than a conversation ever could

25: In the past week, have you cried?

Several times

26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing?

Grey

27: Do people ever call you by your last name?

One kid does, I know him from High school, and one of my professors does (but he does that with everyone)

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now?

Maybe? I don’t think so though

29: Do you have a best friend?

@domoeaterzzz and @dancingoctopusss will always be considered my “best friends” even if I don’t get to see them very often

30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed?

No, I would be happy for her

31: Who was your last call from?

My mum!

32: Are you mad at anyone?

I don’t think so

33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Yeah

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday?

22

35: How many more days until your birthday?

114 according to google

36: Do you have any summer plans yet?

I’m going to my sister’s graduation ceremony

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex?

Tons

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now?

Probably

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone?

Yes

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?

Yep

41: Do you think age matters in relationships?

To an extent

42: Are you available?

I am

43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended?

romantically? 4?

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get?

Nose I guess but I don’t really like piercings because on me they never fully heal and get easily infected for some reason

45: Do you believe exes can be friends?

Yeah i do

46: Do you regret anything?

Kind of, but I try not to dwell on the past

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now?

The future

48: Did you ever lose a best friend?

Yeah

49: Was your last kiss a mistake?

Probably

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like?

I’m going to Australia soon

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry?

Yeah

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed?

No

53: What was the last thing you ate?

Italian food from across the street

54: Did you get any compliments today?

No?

55: Where are you going on your next vacation?

Texas

56: Do you own anything from other countries?

A few things probably

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls?

Girls

58: Where have you lived most of your life?

Texas

59: When was the last time you took a long drive?

Much too long ago

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?

Ohhhh yes

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house?

No, that’s mean

62: Who do you text the most?

All of my various group chats

63: What was the last movie you saw?

The Disaster Artist (SO GOOD)

64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex?

I don’t have a current SO, but my last one I think was cheated on, so that’s a good reason to not go back.

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2010?

Zero

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you?

No

67: Do you curse around your parents?

Yeah

68: Are you happy with where you live?

I love it, but it’s important for me to get out fo the city from time to time

69: Do you collect anything?

Playbills!

70: What’s your favourite colour?

Soft pink

71: Does the last song you listened to remind you of anyone?

Not really, and I think that’s a good thing

72: Has anyone ever cheated on you?

Yeah

73: What are your plans for tomorrow?

I have to take pictures at an event

74: Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one?

Yep!

75: Does your last ex have a job?

Last I heard, yes

76: What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship?

Be happy for her

77: Where is your cellphone?

Right next to me

78: What colour is your cellphone?

White with a gold case

79: What did you dream of last night?

I didn’t dream/or I don’t remember at least

80: Are you atheist?

Something like that

81: Will you change your name when you get married?

No

82: Are you ready for autumn weather?

Yes, god

83: Have you had any big storms recently?

Not here

84: What kind of bottoms are you wearing?

My nicest pair of jeans

[onlystraightforjongup]

Bangdae Soulmates

Next chapter

AO3 Account

Summary:  Bang Yongguk's soulmate really loves fried chicken. And cheesecake. And almost anything else he could get his hands on. It wouldn't be a problem, if their soulmate bond didn't cause Yongguk to taste all of it. Meanwhile, he's just accepted his role as B.A.P's leader and getting to know his dongsaengs proves to be more challenging than he anticipated.

Yongguk laid down on the dorm’s couch with a groan. He’d only just moved into B.A.P’s brand new dorms and met a few of the other people he’d be working with for a very long time, and now his stomach wanted to kill him. Or rather, fried chicken wanted to kill him.

Yongguk hated fried foods; he always had. His soulmate disagreed and had a clear love for fried chicken. They also loved dark chocolate and cheesecake. Any type of meat ranked up on their favorites list as well. Yongguk just stuck with ramen, but ever since he’d turned eighteen and at least his half of the soulmate bond opened, he got a variety of culinary experiences.

Yongguk’s pretty sure his soulmate eats everything in sight.

“Are you okay?” Kim Himchan, the second oldest in their little group, stopped by the couch, raising an eyebrow as Yongguk groaned. He considered ignoring Himchan; his discomfort was none of Himchan’s business, and he’d already proven much too talkative and curious in the week since Yongguk met him.

“Fine.” He moved his hands onto his stomach, wishing something could relieve the cramps. The vindictive side of him hoped his soulmate felt those too, but he doubted they did because otherwise they wouldn’t still be eating and Yongguk’s lips wouldn’t taste like chicken. Plus, even when dying of cramps, Yongguk had to admit he didn’t want his soulmate to hurt.

“You’re not fine,” Himchan said. He took a seat at the other side of the couch, and oh god, this was so awkward, and Yongguk was so awkward, and why did he think living in dorms like this would work out?

“I am,” Yongguk said. “It’s just – cramps.” Yongguk half-expected Himchan to make some ridiculous joke about him - menstruating or something equally awful and follow it with his giant laugh. When Himchan only smiled in sympathy and grabbed him a softer pillow to slide under his abdomen, Yongguk realized he should probably give him more credit.

Himchan wasn’t a bad guy. Yongguk knew that. He was just – loud and intense, and he loved everything about this life that Yongguk hated. Himchan knew more people than anyone else on the planet, and he talked to all of them still and then still had energy for interviews and the social side of promotions. Sometimes listening to Himchan talk and be such an amazing, personable idol made Yongguk tired.

“Take some medicine,” Himchan said. “I can get you some.” He stood, only to pause when Yongguk shook his head.

“It doesn’t help,” he said. Himchan frowned, and Yongguk silently begged him to drop it. He figured Himchan saw his desperation because his eyes softened a little as he considered Yongguk.

“Maybe eat something?” Himchan tried instead. “You haven’t had dinner.” Yongguk shook his head vehemently.

“No.” He tried to use his leader voice, which he discovered worked on Youngjae and Junhong, the other two bandmates he’d met already. Himchan only kept going, as if he didn’t even realize Yongguk wanted the conversation to end. If Yongguk didn’t hurt so much, he’d go find a hard surface to slam his head against. Or perhaps he’d slam Himchan’s head against it.

“You need to eat, Yongguk-hyung. You were at the studio all today, and –” Yongguk cut him off with a quiet groan, curling up and holding his stomach.

“Is he okay, hyung?” a quiet voice asked from the hallway. Junhong, Yongguk realized, and he grimaced. What a great way for the maknae to see his leader and eldest hyung.

“He’s fine, Junhong-ah,” Himchan said. “Just stubborn. Like usual.” He and Himchan only lived together for a week, and Yongguk already wanted to murder him. They’d either come out of this arrangement as enemies (although something told him Himchan wouldn’t think of him as an enemy no matter what) or best friends. Yongguk called it 70-30, leaning towards enemies right now.

He licked at his lips because now his goddamn soulmate was drinking something horrifically sweet, and Yongguk needed it gone right now. Of course, it wasn’t his lips that needed licked to remove the taste. He tossed an arm over his head, hoping Junhong and Himchan would leave.

“Oh – oh fuck,” Himchan said, his voice sounding surprised as if he’d come to some amazing realization. Yongguk waited for him to insist he’d found a cure to cancer or thought of the lyrics to their first album or something equally impressive. “It’s your soulmate, isn’t it? I should have realized that.”

Himchan laughed, and Yongguk clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth because that laugh was the most obnoxious sound he’d ever heard in his life. He’d heard it for the first time when he met Himchan because Himchan made it so obnoxiously clear he talked a mile-a-minute and never shut up. When Yonnguk finally couldn’t take it anymore and just begged him to stop talking, Himchan just laughed, and ever since, Yongguk hated the sound.

“What’re they eating?” Himchan asked, as though Yongguk facing away from him and into the sofa wasn’t a clue that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Fried chicken. And something sweet,” Yongguk said, hoping the answer would convince Himchan to back off.

“Hmm, think they’re American? I think my soulmate is ‘cause whoever he is, he really likes hamburgers. I swear, I never go more than a day or two without tasting one.”

“Himchan-ssi?” Yongguk said. The formal name usually worked to make Himchan realize Yongguk wasn’t just talking for no reason. Himchan only hummed in response, quieting down. “Please stop talking and go to bed.”

“Okay, hyung.” If Yongguk realized getting Himchan to leave only required a kind order, he would have done that a long time ago (he pushed the thought of ethics and if it was okay to do that out of his head). Himchan’s footsteps faded away, and Yongguk sighed just as another cramp clenched against his stomach. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he grimaced, hoping he’d get a little escape from the pain later tonight.

The footsteps returned, and Yongguk didn’t even bother looking up at Himchan, knowing it had to be Himchan and hating that he wouldn’t just leave him alone.

“Here,” Himchan said. He placed something in the crook of Yongguk’s arm. “Send them a message.” Yongguk glanced at what Himchan left him, smiling as he saw it was a bottle of mouthwash and an extra cup. As Himchan walked away, Yongguk wondered why he’d never thought of that before.

“Thank you,” he said, and for once, Himchan didn’t say anything in response.

---------------

The next person to join their group acted a lot more like Yongguk than Himchan. Sixteen-year-old Moon Jongup, an amazing dancer with an eye for choreography. For all his problems getting close to the group, Yongguk had no problem donning an easy professionalism.

“Hello. Bang Yongguk,” he said with a small smile. Moon Jongup returned it and his introduction, but his voice barely rose over a whisper, and he didn’t meet Yongguk’s eyes. Yongguk wished he knew what to say to fix the awkwardness, to tell Jongup he could come to Yongguk if he had any problems, but that moved past professionalism and into a realm that Yongguk didn’t know.

The words didn’t come out, mostly because he didn’t know what the right ones were. In the end, it didn’t matter because Himchan swooped in and by the end of the second week, Himchan could make Jongup laugh with only a funny face or two.

Yongguk tried not to feel guilty that they made him the leader, while all he did was hide in the studio and produce their songs. Himchan did a lot more for the entire group, which speaking of, currently meant he’d dragged Yongguk away from his equipment to watch Jongup and Junhong dance together.

Their maknaes had known each other quite well as trainees. Yongguk had known Junhong for over a year now because they’d had Yongguk work on his rapping. Junhong impressed him again and again, and he found he appreciated the relationship they’d built through working together. Yongguk knew Junhong regarded him as both a mentor and a friend, and he hoped to reach the same point with Jongup.

He just didn’t know how. While Junhong was a little shy, they also could talk about rapping for days together, and Junhong learned fast. Jongup wasn’t a rapper; he was their dancer, and Yongguk knew nothing about dance past what he’d been forced to learn as a trainee.

“We should go out tonight,” Himchan said. “Have dinner as a group. Jongup’s been uncomfortable around everyone, and if we let him choose the place, then maybe it’ll help.”

“Sure,” he agreed because Himchan knew Jongup better than him anyway. They reached the dance studio, and Yongguk got a glimpse of Jongup in his element. Yongguk used to watch Junhong dance, mostly because Junhong never seemed to stop moving, and he used their breaks to dance out some of his energy. Jongup danced very differently than Junhong – not really better (though certainly not worse), just not the same style.

His moves were sharp, and he liked to do moves that required intense body control and complicated footwork. Yongguk hoped neither of those things transferred over into their choreography because good god, he couldn’t move like that.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Himchan said, his voice just barely a whisper so as to not alert Jongup to their presence. “He’ll get embarrassed when he realizes you saw that. Don’t make it more awkward.” Easier said than done.

Junhong noticed them lingering in the doorway and paused to wave at them.

“Hey, hyungs!” he said, and Jongup stopping, spinning to look at Yongguk and Himchan. A blush crossed his face, and it surprised Yongguk just how quickly Jongup went from confident to timid. “Whatcha come over for? Want to dance with us?” Junhong grinned at them, no doubt joking because Himchan complained more about dance than anyone Yongguk had ever met, and Yongguk made it clear he danced as little as possible.

“Yongguk hasn’t seen Jongup dance before, so we wanted to stop by,” Himchan said, flashing one of his easy, wide grins. Yongguk tried to match it. He noticed Himchan dropped the honorific from his name. A couple days ago, Yongguk wouldn’t have liked that, even though he cared little for formal respect. Now though, Yongguk accepted that he and Himchan were equals, more partners than leader and dongsaeng.

“You looked really good, Jongup-ah,” he said, smiling when Jongup’s eyes met his then skirted away. “Can you show me some other stuff?” He and Himchan moved further into the studio, and Yongguk leaned against the corner of the mirror.

Jongup hesitated, and Yongguk wondered what he could possibly say to him to tell him he honestly was interested in seeing him dance more.

“You mentioned you like Chris Brown, right, Jonguppie?” Himchan jumped in, and Yongguk breathed a sigh of relief as Jongup relaxed a little more.

“Yeah, he’s really good.” Jongup’s voice still sounded timid, but this time he smiled.

“Well, I just happened to get a couple of his songs the other day. You’ll have to show me the dances.” It was all too obvious that Himchan got the songs just for Jongup, but he didn’t seem to mind, waiting for Himchan to finish connecting his phone to the stereo.

If Yongguk had any lingering doubt Himchan was the best person ever with their dongsaengs it disappeared when the song came on because Jongup’s eyes lit up. He seemed to forget the earlier awkwardness and just go for it, his body falling into practiced moves. Junhong didn’t join him in this dance, instead coming over to stand with Yongguk and Himchan.

Jongup had such a powerful way of dancing that he made the dance seem both easy and exhausting, long and too short, all at the same time. Yongguk had met many dancers since he became a trainee, and he knew the time required to gain body control like Jongup’s. For some reason, when Yongguk pictured himself with his dongsaengs, he’d imagined him encouraging them to grow and improve. Jongup’s dance (and Junhong’s, for that matter, but Yongguk hadn’t followed this particular thought train while working only with him) far surpassed anything Yongguk could do, and he felt honestly impressed.

When Jongup finished, Yongguk smiled and told him how he recognized his hard work and was very impressed by his skill. Jongup smiled back, and Himchan’s arm wrapped around Yongguk’s shoulders.

He realized he’d said the right thing.

“We should go out tonight,” Himchan said, his eyes glancing around to each of the members. “You pick the place, Jongup-ah.”

“Really?” Jongup said. Yongguk noticed smiles growing on both Junhong and Jongup’s faces. Once again, Himchan knew exactly what the two needed. “There’s – a burger place I’ve wanted to try. If that’s okay.” He mumbled the last bit, and Yongguk hoped Himchan didn’t show too much distaste at the thought.

Himchan tasted hamburgers all the time from his soulmate, but it seemed he was willing to taste some more for Jongup.

“Sure, sounds good. You two go shower. We’ll let Youngjae know.”

------

The dinner went better than Yongguk originally imagined. Himchan had been right; the evening out loosened Jongup up a little. He’d also had a chance to speak with Youngjae more. He’d spoken with Youngjae when they first met, and the air of confidence around him and his talkative nature let Yongguk avoid him with more ease of conscious than the two maknaes.

Something about Youngjae, unlike the maknaes, screamed confidence, even though he acted so humble. Yongguk chalked it up to age, even though he knew it was more than that. Yongguk didn’t possess the same easy confidence as Youngjae did.

Either way, Yongguk appreciated it because for the moment, it meant he had one less member to worry about.

He stepped into his and Himchan’s room, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it on his bed. Someone – Himchan, most likely – followed him in and shut the door behind them.

“Yongguk, there’s a problem,” Himchan’s voice sounded strained, and Yongguk frowned, turning to look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I tasted burgers tonight.” Himchan ran a hand through his hair, lifting it up and straight out of the style Yongguk watched him perfect over an hour ago. Yongguk ran his words through his head before realizing Himchan hadn’t eaten a burger; he’d eaten a salad.

“Your soulmate?” he asked, even though he knew it from the way Himchan’s eyes looked.

“Jongup ate a burger tonight,” Himchan said. “And he told me he eats them all the time. They’re his favorite and-” His voice cracked in the middle, and he broke off, shaking his head. Yongguk noticed his hands were clenched into fists.

“Calm down,” he said, stepping towards Himchan and shoving away his awkwardness because Himchan needed him. “Here.” He guided Himchan onto the bed, sitting beside him.

“I – Yongguk – he’s sixteen.” Himchan refused to look over at him, but he rubbed his face with an angry motion.

“It might not be him,” Yongguk tried. “A lot of people like burgers. It could be a coincidence.” Himchan shook his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to stay calm.

“He got that drink. The weird fruity one. I tasted it.”

Yongguk recalled how Himchan stuttered through the dinner, remembering how he’d found it unusual at the time, and he wondered now how the hell Himchan kept it as together as he had. Resisting the urge to groan, Yongguk considered what the best course of action would be regarding this situation.

When he accepted the leader position for B.A.P, he never thought he’d deal with a pair of soulmates within the group, and Jongup’s age greatly complicated matters. Until he reached eighteen, Jongup wouldn’t taste whatever touched Himchan’s lips, and it was highly inappropriate for Himchan to tell him they were soulmates until Jongup’s bond emerged.

Two soulmates meeting and recognizing the bond before both reached eighteen was quite rare; of course it happened to two of Yongguk’s bandmates.

“You shouldn’t tell him,” Yongguk said. “Not yet at least.”

“Of course not,” Himchan said, taking a deep breath. He leaned further into Yongguk, and for the first time, he didn’t mind Himchan’s casual touching. “I just – part of me is relieved, you know? Cause Jonguppie’s adorable and great, and I know I don’t know him well yet, but I know I want to. But – he’s young, and he’s never going to have to search for his soulmate, and what if I’m not what he wants?”

“Channie,” Yongguk said, letting out a small chuckle and burying the surprise because where did that nickname come from? “You’re his soulmate. You’re exactly what he wants. Just – wait until he’s eighteen and knows what he wants before you tell him, okay?” The warning wasn’t necessary; they both understood Jongup needed time to mature before learning Himchan was his soulmate, but Yongguk included it anyway, just in case. Himchan didn’t comment on it, instead just nodding miserably.

“He’s five years younger than me, Yongguk,” Himchan said. “I’m – he’s sixteen.”

“I know, Channie,” Yongguk said. “Just – be his hyung for now. He needs you.” Himchan nodded again, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For a long pause, he said nothing. When he finally spoke again, he’d calmed enough to smile at Yongguk.

“He needs you too,” Himchan said. “They all do. Don’t underestimate yourself.” His smile still looked sad, but Yongguk accepted the change of subject.

“You’re better with them than I am,” Yongguk said with a small returning smile.

“Still, they’re your kids too.” Himchan laughed, and Yongguk felt so relieved to hear the sound that he didn’t even find it too obnoxious. “You can’t leave me to deal with them alone.”

“Can’t I just pay the child support?”

Himchan hit him in the chest, but he laughed again. Yongguk sat with Himchan on his shoulder for a while longer, until someone knocked on their door, and Himchan sat back up.

“Come in!”

Jongup pulled the door open, smiling at them. “Would you like to watch a movie, hyungs?”

“That sounds good, Jonguppie.” Himchan smiled and jumped to his feet. Yongguk saw Himchan look at Jongup after he’d turned back around. The amount of care in his gaze shocked Yongguk. He tried to imagine a person he looked at like that, even though they ate such disgusting food all the damn time.

Yongguk couldn’t see it happening.

He followed Jongup into their living room, finding Junhong already stretched out on the floor and Youngjae curled into a ball on the sofa. Jongup flopped down with Junhong, half laying on top of him. Junhong accepted the position.

“Yongguk-hyung!” Youngjae proclaimed, grinning up at him. Seeing Youngjae smiling at him made Yongguk regret leaving him to his own devices for the past couple weeks. He needed a good leader. They all did.

“What movie do you want?” Himchan asked, focusing on Yongguk. He moved his gaze to look at everyone else.

“I’m good with anything,” he said, settling next to Youngjae and Himchan on the sofa with a small smile.

“No, you choose, hyung,” Junhong said. “You never join us for movies so it’s your turn to pick.” Yongguk softened a little more as Junhong smiled at him. He’d apologized to Junhong once before for not knowing how to teach or explain or anything necessary to be a leader. Ever since, Junhong – fifteen-year-old Junhong with his kind heart and cute smiles – encouraged him when he stepped up and tried to reach out to his friends.

“I don’t really know anything out right now,” Yongguk said, rubbing at his hair as they scrolled through titles. “I don’t keep up on movies.”

“You’ll have to join us on more days then, hyung,” Youngjae said. “It’s criminal to not know how any of these movies.” Yongguk smiled at him, and he returned it. For all the confidence Youngjae possessed, his smile looked strangely shy and sweet. Yongguk hoped to see it again.

“I’d enjoy that,” he said. As he spoke, the taste of cheesecake appeared in his mouth, and he groaned leaning back against the couch. He’d assumed he could have one day without tasting much from his soulmate, but apparently even that was too much to ask for.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Junhong asked. Yongguk sighed, sitting back up and finding everyone’s concerned eyes on him.

“I –” Yongguk needed to man up and tell his dongsaengs. He had no reason to keep this secret, not when it was a normal and natural thing. “My… soulmate really likes eating.” Both Jongup and Junhong stared back with wide eyes. While they knew of the bond (everyone did), it was hard to comprehend that constant connection. Himchan and Youngjae looked much more understanding.

“What are they eating?” Junhong asked. He tilted his head to the side as he spoke, propping himself onto his arms.

“Cheesecake.” Normally Yongguk would have left his answer at that, but he had the whole group’s attention, and he wanted to talk to them more and – “They eat it often. I really don’t like the taste of it.”

“Do – do you just taste it?” Jongup asked, flushing. “Sorry – if that’s a weird question.”

“It’s not,” Himchan promised him. “And some people just taste it. Others it can affect them more. I usually just taste it.”

“Mine eats a lot,” Youngjae said. “We actually can talk through food? Like they kept eating honey and peanut butter every time I had toast and only stopped once I tried putting the honey and peanut butter on the toast.”

Yongguk nodded, accepting the tidbit of information about Youngjae. It was the first time Youngjae really offered something personal about himself, at least to Yongguk. He added it to the short list of what he knew about his group outside of their musical and performance talents.

Youngjae ate toast with peanut butter and honey most mornings.

“Have you ever met them?” Jongup asked, and Yongguk could feel the tension in Himchan next to him. Yongguk pitied his friend. They both knew it was inappropriate to tell Jongup about the soulmate bond before his side matured, but he hoped Himchan could find peace in it somehow.

“No,” Yongguk answered. “All I know about mine is they like cheesecake and anything fried.”

“It makes you sick, doesn’t it?” Junhong asked. Yongguk winced as he realized Junhong had another skill he hadn’t known about. He noticed more than the average person and much more than the average teenager his age. Yongguk nodded.

“I hate fried foods. It’s no big deal.”

“I’ve never heard of what your soulmate eating affecting you like that.” Youngjae frowned at him, shifting to sit up straighter. “Have you gotten that checked?”

“It’s no big deal. It’s just cramps.” Yongguk hadn’t planned for them to worry about him because of this. He was their leader; they shouldn’t worry about him. “I’m fine.”

Youngjae raised an eyebrow, meeting Yongguk’s gaze, but he didn’t comment. If anyone would bring it up again, it would be Himchan later. He hoped everyone just left it how it was.

“So what movie are we going to watch?”

--------------

“It’s okay, Yongguk-hyung,” Youngjae said, but for once Yongguk didn’t see his easy confidence. “I – know my voice isn’t what B.A.P needs. I’m not a tenor. I can’t be the main vocalist.”

Yongguk sighed, resisting the urge to drop his head in his hands. After allowing them to believe they’d be a five-member group, their company just announced that another vocalist – a new main vocal – was joining and pushing Youngjae back into the role of lead vocal. Youngjae had worked so hard the past couple months to perfect his parts and improve his voice, and now those parts were going to another vocalist.

“You’re an amazing vocalist, Youngjae-ah,” Yongguk said because there wasn’t anything else he could say. Despite his position of leader, this decision had been over his head. He’d only found out with everyone else. “This doesn’t change that.”

“When is he coming?” Youngjae asked, changing the subject. He turned away from Yongguk, but Yongguk saw tears beginning to gather in his eyes. Yongguk swallowed down anger at their label. They weren’t a bad label; they just… hadn’t handled this well.

“Soon. Today,” Yongguk admitted. “His name’s Jung Daehyun.”

“It’s not his fault,” Youngjae said. “He must be good for them to do this. I doubt he even knows –” Yongguk hated that Youngjae, soft but sassy Youngjae who joked around all day but rarely ever offered information about his life before B.A.P, was the one insisting to Yongguk that they needed to welcome Daehyun into the group.

“I won’t let you be pushed to the background, Youngjae-ah,” Yongguk said. Though Youngjae never told him, he knew Youngjae trained at and then left JYP. Often, Yongguk heard him talking to his friends from there, calling them late at night and occasionally sounding so wistful that Yongguk almost expected him to leave and return there.

He didn’t know why Youngjae left JYP, and he wouldn’t know until Youngjae told him – if Youngjae ever told him. But he knew he’d do his best to make Youngjae feel at home in B.A.P and not regret his decision.

Yongguk just hoped he didn’t regret it already.

[hudsonespie]

COVID-19: Fact Suppression or Careless Under-reporting?

Human Rights at Sea CEO David Hammond shares his thoughts on recent evidence presented to the charitable NGO for what he says appears to be an unexplained under-reporting of the detail of the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic on seafarers and their families.

Hammond suggests that there is an unnecessary fear of telling the truth thereby potentially causing panic in what could be a long-haul. It is asserted that people would prefer being told the truth of their predicament, not to be shielded from it. “It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis,” says Hammond.

Editorial by David Hammond, CEO of Human Rights at Sea

Reporting for seven years without fear or favor, Human Rights at Sea continues to independently highlight the detailed plight of seafarers and fishers working at the front-end keeping our global supply chains open with food on our tables, goods delivered and raw materials for manufacturing industries flowing.

Rightly alongside our respective State emergency services, armed forces and frontline critical care workers, seafarers are our savors for those of us fortunate enough to receive goods delivered by sea during this COVID-19 pandemic.

Meantime, globally, there will be thousands of humans who will not be so lucky to receive such support. Let us not ignore them just because it may be a difficult consideration or far away from one’s own reality.

The high-levels of eventual casualties of COVID-19, besides those reported throughout Europe and China, will most likely be reflected in those living in the developing world, those trapped in immigration and asylum centers, those in need of UN feeding programs, those moving on global migratory routes fleeing wars, oppression, sexual servitude, slavery and trafficking and unaccompanied minors.

In better times, such casualties of circumstance may well have been the focus of corporate social responsibility programs enhancing commercial image and the “ticking of the social welfare box.”

For the maritime sector, such casualties may include crew (and passengers) who are asymptomatic with no reported symptoms but are still contagious, are unlucky enough to become ill ashore, or become ill in an enclosed vessel which is then prevented either temporarily or permanently from gaining port entry, or from obtaining timely-resupply of essential medical supplies and therefore essential succor. 

Arguably, it is not going to be too long before yellow flags are flown on commercial vessels denoting the ship is under quarantine; but who will report this publicly preventing it being hidden behind corporate or flag State veils? Who will track the consequences for those it affects?

The Current Narrative

What we are currently seeing portrayed through established media and social media outlets is an unbalanced advancing of the corporate “seafarers will not leave their posts” stoic narrative. But this is not balanced, nor is it entirely correct. Much is going on that is yet unreported.

Meantime, the current public narrative fails to address, in any detail, the very real hardships of the many seafarers who underpin commercial maritime development and its profit. This most probably relates to the inconvenient and uncomfortable truth of the current situation.

That said, not everyone in the industry is towing the party line.

On March 25, The New York Times issued a telling article “Trapped at Sea by Covid-19 Lockdowns, Crew Members Plead for Help” which was contributed to by numerous leading maritime industry figures, including Frank Coles, CEO of Hong Kong based Wallem Group, who previously has systematically challenged the maritime industry dystopian structures, as well as myself who was separately asked to provide evidence and access to seafarers suffering at the present time. At that time our NGO had been deluged with pleas for help, despite it not being a welfare organization.

Evidence and Transparency

By way of evidence of “bad examples,” below are some of the statements and information sent by seafarers who have contacted Human Rights at Sea, some in fear of their jobs and black-listing should they speak out. It should be noted that welfare organizations and unions must be in receipt of the same, though many times more.

• “I cannot disclose the company or ship name. I don’t know what action will be taken against me…they could have arranged sign off but they did not. Now there is no way to go home.”

• “Sir. Many of us completed our tenure but can’t go home due to lock down situation worldwide and in [our]home country. Moreover we are being sent for [to] highly affected EU countries. Panic is there onboard as well as at home. In this severe situation we would like to be with our families to support them. Company appreciated us for keeping up supply chain worldwide but who is going to take care of us and our family??”

• “I am stranded in Hotel since 4th March on Tunisia and you aware I came to join ship. I don’t know whether I will be able to join ship or come back to India which is ban till 14th April. How long will I pay hotel bills. I have to pay loan EMi and feed family. Company has not supported in this crisis as my contract is valid from day I  join the ship. Tunisia is ban till 4th April and may delay further. I don’t understand how long will seafarer will stay without salary and support families if no income.”

• “It’s not much fun being on a ship right now. There’s a serious lack of, one might say ‘essence’ among the crew. Lot of frightened people. Lot of people very worried about family, most of the offices are closed so logistic comes are a clusterfuck. This is a chance for the DPAs to shine. But so far nothing. I’d say 70% of the world’s fleet is approaching skeleton crew. Sure, it’s a global nightmare but it’s not what a lot of these signed for. Lots of folk expected their companies to look after them. Seems the demands on the fleet is getting greater with less logistic support less crew on board and less aggressive support. Having said that I can’t gripe my gang are all OK. Home and aboard, we’ve got some good banter going. Those guys in the article though that’s happened a lot and still happening. Really shitty.”

• “Internet connections shipboard. There’s usually a system for crew to have access to a messaging service through Wi-Fi evergreen use Whats app I think we use messenger or Viber I’m not sure. You are given or buy a data allowance. And can message whenever you like providing connection is good.  If that connection goes down the crew have little or no contact with family at home because if you read the WHO special requirements for ports it’s becoming more and more difficult to get local SIM cards.”

• “Sign off cancelled as travel restrictions imposed. Now crew change is impossible as no government will lift travel restrictions due to impact of coronavirus.”

• “This is really bad by the companies…we have not signed contract for this…we should have the say.”

• “I have a 3 months contract now I am already over 4 months on board, with most of the counties shutting down borders it looks [like we] Would be on board for a few months at least and even if can get off from the vessel might get stuck in some airport. Though the flights are shut but the ships are still going to corona infected areas like Spain and Italy, with insufficient disinfectants sanitisers and medical equipment.”

• “Only fear is in case someone gets corona on board it’s a closed environment would get transmitted to all on board. And in such a case for sure no country will allow the vessel in its ports. For now we are just checking daily temperature of all crew and people coming on board.”

• “As of now there is no communication from the office regarding my salary not being paid. What do we do?”

• “Because of heavy [expensive] port charges they won’t take us to [an] Indian port. But we are very worried about family because they need us bad.”

• “Sir, is there any possibility on policy changes for seafarers to get back to their family? It is very concerning.”

• “I had a new born baby after my joining here. I have to see him.”

News Suppression?

Let us be in no doubt that this pandemic is deadly.

It is a threat to our way of living and our humanity. It will change the way we think, the way we act and how we engage with those around us. The greatest irony being that a virus, which ranges in size from about 20 to 400 nanometres in diameter, is now starting to re-establish a new working order in our globalized world.

We are rightly hearing the positive and often stoic narratives of those seafarers who are staying onboard, keeping calm and carrying on, maintaining global supply lines and remaining at sea for the global common good. We sincerely thank them.

But what we are not hearing on any scale from within the maritime sector and some organizations, are the real details of the alternative reality and of the uncomfortable stories reflecting the consequences of those not fortunate enough to have support of the big commercial companies who are pushing this stoic messaging. Without this, we have an incomplete and less-than-transparent picture of what is occurring.

Undeniably, facts save lives and reduce suffering, but currently a potential fear of the facts is stymieing wider public awareness and therefore support to seafarers and their families, as well as highlighting need for critical support to front-line welfare organizations.

Questions must now be asked of whether is there a deliberate suppression of the facts and ground-truth, particularly for those seafarers who are not being currently employed but are in the crew management system, careless under-reporting, or just a convenient avoidance of the inconvenient truth behind the ongoing suffering of seafarers and their families during the COVID-19 crisis?

This is not a “bleeding-heart liberal” perspective, but the position from the other side of the commercial-civil society paradigm, like it or not.

It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis.

  from Storage Containers https://www.maritime-executive.com/article/covid-19-fact-suppression-or-careless-under-reporting via http://www.rssmix.com/

[clausvonbohlen]

24 Deligianni Street, Athens.

24 Deligianni street is where I live. It is a πολυκατοικία – an apartment block. Literally, this means: ‘many (πολύ) – relating to (κατά)  - the home (οίκος) ,  a ‘many-home-dwelling’. Oίκος  is the archaic root that resurfaces in English words such as ‘economy’ (the management of the home), and ecology (the study of the home, in this case planet earth). It is a good example of how, in Greece and in Greek, the ancient and the modern, the old and the new, are interconnected.

  My building is located in Exarcheia, beside the archaeological museum and midway between Exarcheia square, to the south, and Pedio Areos park, to the north. This was once a very desirable neighborhood, but in the 1960s and 70s many of the more affluent inhabitants moved out of the centre and into the suburbs. Immigrant communities were drawn to Exarcheia because of low rents and good transport links, and now it is very diverse, with many Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Nigerians, and, more recently, Afghans and Syrians.

  The archaeological museum is next to the National Technical University of Athens, the Πολυτεχνείο,  famous for the student uprising against the military junta in 1973, in which 23 students died. Exarcheia has been an area of politicised resistance ever since; the mantle has now been taken up by a broad group that define themselves as anarchists, though this appears – at least from the outside - to include anyone with any kind of grievance.

  My building dates from 1930. It has an old cage lift built by Schindler lifts, a company founded in Lucerne, Switzerland, in 1874. This lift is not much newer, and some of its important looking cables are patched up with yellow insulating tape. To step into it is, firstly, to feel a little bit nervous, and, secondly, to step back in time.

  My apartment is on the fifth floor. It has a terrace on which I have  recently started to grow bougainvillea, jasmine, wisteria, solanum and fragrant rhyncospermum. My mornings now begin with a round of watering, and then the sweeping of leaves and petals that the night breeze has shaken to the ground. It is a fine way to begin a new day, and reminds me of life in a Zen monastery.

  The terrace overlooks the the archaeological museum, which houses the gold mask that Schliemann unearthed at Mycenae in 1876. Caution was not Schliemann’s guiding principle; upon finding the mask, he telegraphed King George of Greece to say, ‘I have gazed upon the face of Agamemnon.’ Subseqent archaeological research has concluded that the mask predates the period of the legendary Trojan war by about 300 years. Nevertheless, when I sit on my sweet-scented terrace and feel the life-affirming tingle of inspiration, then I sometimes wonder whether I might be picking up the energetic emanations of an ancient warrior-poet, relayed to me across the ages through his gold death mask, just a stone’s throw away.

  On other nights, the terrace is an excellent place to watch the clashes between anarchists, who throw Molotov cocktails, and the riot police, who mostly stand around smoking and looking bored. The clashes happen once or twice a month, and they have now acquired an oddly scripted quality, as if everyone involved is playing a role in which they no longer believe. The only exception are the journalists who pullulate behind the police. They are immediately obvious because of the luminous rectangles of their film cameras, and because they wear elephantine gas masks. Sometimes I feel as if I have box seats in an absurdist theatre.

  My mother is coming to visit me next month. She will like the fact that I live beside the archaeological museum. When I was a teenager, she once told me that as a young girl she dreamt of becoming an archaeologist. But she never went to university, since from a young age she was a pawn in her parents’ acrimonious divorce, both of whom refused to pay for her education. She ended their ugly game by becoming a stewardess, thereby gaining her total independence at a comparatively young age. But it was a significant moment for me when she told me that she had wanted to become an archaeologist, because it was the first time that I had thought of her as a full person, with a life before I was born, and with dreams and ambitions of her own. I remember feeling a rush of tenderness for her then, as I do whenever I think back to that moment.

  My landlady, Κυρία Φητίλης, lives on the floor below me. She is eighty years old and lives with what I initially thought was her mother, but I have since found out is the family’s former servant. This lady, whose name I do not know, is 99 years old. I don’t think I have ever met a 99 year old before. She is not surprisingly rather shrunken, with tremendous hairs sprouting from her upper lip and chin. She is very hard of hearing, and forgetful, so I have to shout to re-introduce myself every time I enter their apartment to pay my rent. However, she has a bat-like sensitivity for the sound of doorbells, and should her sonar pick up on the ringing of a bell, her tremulous cry of πιος είναι ? – who is it? – reverberates around the entire πολυκατοικία.  But what I find most astonishing is the thought that she was already a young woman when the Nazis came goose-stepping through the centre of Athens.

  Shortly after I moved in, I shared the lift with another tenant, this one in her sixties. Having confirmed that I was the new tenant on the 5ht floor, she then asked me if I was married.

  ‘No,’ I replied.

  ‘Ah, you must meet my daughter. She works in the university museum in Plaka.’

  Then she noted down my phone number. A couple of days later I received a bashful message from her daughter, offering me a tour of her museum. I took her up on the offer and she gave me a very thorough tour of a rather uninspiring museum.

                                 *

  24 Deligianni is pressed up against its neighbours. The buildings must share some of the inner stairwells, since from my own kitchen I can clearly hear the family who live in the next door building, when they are in their kitchen. Most often I hear the mother, whose accent is deep and African, and whose vocal range is impressive. She likes to chat on the phone while cooking; at least, that is what I infer from her long monologues, punctuated by laughter, and accompanied by bubbling and splashing noises.

  In my mind’s eye I can’t help picturing her with a tea towel around her head and a big white apron, like Mammy in ‘Gone With the Wind’. That does, I fear, make me a racist, albeit an unconscious one. In my defence, I did grow up with a much-loved cuddly toy golliwog, and I remember collecting the rather natty little ‘Golly’ badges that came with jars of Robinson’s jam. It is not just Κυρία Φητίλης’  centenarian servant who has seen changes in their lifetime.

  My direct neighbours are a young graphic designer couple who live on the same floor as me. Their apartment is similar in size and shape, but while I have tried to preserve the style and spirit of old Athens, theirs is contemporary and cool and decorated with bright pieces of pop-art furniture. It seems we are all attracted to the unfamiliar, though that means different things for different people.

  I was reminded of this when I met Zoe, a Greek girl who has set up a small artists’ cooperative in an old villa, not far from my apartment. She took me for coffee near the cooperative, in an elegant and minimalist new cafe that serves artesanal coffee. ‘Some Swiss contemporary artists came to visit recently,’ she confessed to me, ‘and I brought them here. They were horrified. So inauthentic! they kept saying. So gentrified! Well, I pretended to agree with them, but the truth is that all my life I have been longing for Athens to get a little bit gentrified, and now that it has – even if it’s just one small cafe – I’m delighted!’

  For some people, Athens is a city with longed for pockets of gentrification.  For others, it is ‘the new Berlin’. For me it is a time-warp to a slower, more peaceful, analogue past. Once again I am brought to the realisation that we all seek out what pleases us, and ignore the rest, and thereby create the reality which we experience, and which we mistakenly assume to be the same for everyone.

                              *

  If I walk directly north from 24 Deligianni street, I soon come to the Pedio Areos park. Many homeless people live here. During the day they mostly sleep in the park, screened from view by bushes and trees. At night they congregate in front of what is now a boarded up building, but was once a tea salon. When I walk past this area in the early morning, on my way to swim in the Panelinios Atheltic Club pool, it is a depressing sight. Some addicts lie passed out on the steps of the building, while others scour the pavement for lost drugs. Small fires smolder, kept alive by pieces of broken furniture. Food remains litter the area and are fought over by dogs and pigeons. But by the time I return from swimming, the street cleaners have swept everything away.

  A few weeks ago I stumbled back this way late at night, rather drunk. I loitered for a few moments and was soon approached by an Afghan  dealer, from whom I bought a small quantity of refined opium. I was reminded of organic farm-to-table restaurants in San Francisco, though happily my Afghan dealer spared me a lecture on the precise location of the poppy field where the opium poppies had been harvested. A bearded hipster waiter in San Francisco would not have been so reticent.

  I also bought what I thought was crack, but turned out to be crystal meth. Service was excellent and the meth dealer even threw in a new glass pipe, for free. Then I went home and smoked my purchases. The alcoholic fug exploded instantly and I felt great. I was way too wired to sleep, but not in a jittery way, since the opium made for a dreamy wakefulness. I stayed up all night and read a book from cover to cover.

  I was still feeling pretty good the following day, but when the crash finally came, it was worse than I have ever experienced. I know that you only ever borrow energy - the loan will always be called back in eventually. But I was not anticipating that eviscerating intensity of inner emptiness. It lasted for four days, during which I scanned every new room for places that could support a noose. Having come through safely on the other side, I can confidently state that this experience marks the end of my intermittent 20 year relationship with recreational narcotics.

  The memory of that wintery narco-weekend has faded. We are now in άνοιξη – spring, literally ‘the opening’. The fine days are here again. And so, on an afternoon with a sky so blue that it hurt, I strolled up Pnyx, the hill where the ancient Athenians held their assemblies. In front of me two dogs were playing, pointed ears bouncing up and down above the meadow flowers. Their owners were two Greek girls whose limpid laughter reverberated in the clear air. Behind me was the βέμα, the speaker’s platform carved out of the rock, from which every Athenian citizen had the right to speak on matters concerning the polity. And beyond the girls and the meadow, hovering in the distance like a vision, was the Parthenon itself, sanctuary of the Goddess, icon of Athens, and symbol of Western civilization.

  As I walked back home, I remembered the line attributed to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius in Ridley Scott’s ‘Gladiator’: ‘There was once a dream that was Rome.’ Perhaps the Emperor overslept; five hundred years earlier, there was a dream that was Athens. It excluded many, but it was a dream nonetheless.

  I opened the heavy front door of 24 Deligianni street and took the cage lift up to my apartment. I went out to the terrace. A pale moon hung low above the archaeological museum. For a few moments, my own life here seemed unreal to me. But perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise; it is, in a sense, a dream within a dream.

[sanshynapa-blog]

BEST OF TWENTY SEVENTEEN

New Year is already approaching us but before we say goodbye to year 2017, let me first share the highlights of my year. It’s been a great year so there’s a lot of things I really want to include, but since I need to finish this before ‘putukan’, I’ll try to make it short as possible. Let’s start!

1.      WEIGHT LOSS PLAN

Well actually, it was started on year 2016, December 5 to be exact, when I first realized that I’m getting too fat and extra large-sized shirts does not fit on me anymore, and when I weighed myself, gosh I thought I was weighing two sacks of rice, I guess I’m more heavy than that because I’m 1003 kilograms and I felt like, “What the hell you’re doing to yourself duday?”, “do you even call it a body?”. Since then, I decided to lose some weight, at first I just want to make those extra large-sized shirts fits on me again, but eventually I fell in love to what I am doing so I continue and take it seriously. It’s holiday season when I tried to exercise and control my food, but Christmas parties are everywhere, though I found it hard to maintain, when January comes, I really put my soul and heart doing my weight loss plan.

I set a routine for my diet - I made a fitness journal so that I can track down my weight and the calories I am taking in. Way back my high school days, I also attempted to lose weight, I even joined in a drum and lyre band, well obviously, I lose weight but when I entered college, I gained my weights back again. So to make it work this time, I did some research on how to create a healthy routine for losing weight.

First, I checked the current status of my body – my weight is 103 kilograms and my height is 154 centimeters and determine my body mass index or BMI which I believed that I am on obese category. Second, I wrote my target weight which is 57 kilograms because it is the normal weight for ages 18-20 years old. Then, I made an exercise routine, since I’m too heavy, I begun with cardio exercises, it’s an activity where you will be able to move all your body while controlling your breathe – it includes running, cycling and jumping. I also did zumba dance, in this area, you can enjoy grooving around while reducing your body fats, other might think that it’s not actually helps you to lose weight, where as in reality, it really does, you just need to move harder, and of course, eat moderately. After putting up my exercise routine, I worked out with my diet plan. Honestly, it was the hardest part of my weight loss plan because I’m such a picky eater, every time I searched for healthy and balanced diet, I always ended up skipping to it because I don’t eat vegetables and other foods that uses catsup and mayonnaise as sauce, that’s why I decided to make my own diet meal. White rice, breads and pasta are the major supplier of calories in our body so I removed them to my checklist, followed by sweets such as pastries, candies and chocolates except dark chocolates, it actually helps our brain to process when it’s almost dry and of course, to satisfy our cravings as well. I also omitted junk foods and soft drinks, it’s really not hard to stay away from these foods, but when I’m tired or stress, I always want to eat rice and sweets, sometimes I ignored it but most of the time, I entertained temptations, well that’s life, you should break rules from time to time.

On other hand, during weekdays, or even weekends if I’m on a good mood, I made sure that I am focus on my routine. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning, and do my rituals – drinking cold water, grooming myself, getting my android mobile ready, and start my exercise with walking in our garage for 60 – 70 minutes. Then, I will have my breakfast – oatmeal and banana with coffee, sometimes boiled eggs and fried banana with coffee. For my lunch, I eat wheat bread partner with anything that my grandmother cooked for us, same goes for my dinner. If I don’t have classes, I work out between breakfast and lunch for one and half to two hours, and at least one hour during afternoon. I still make sure to do some exercises if I have classes before going to sleep like squat, jumping jacks and stretching. This is my weight loss routine for four months and I lose 26 kilograms from my starting weight.

For me, losing weight is just an easy task, controlling what you are eating and moving your body around, I really enjoyed doing my weight loss plan, checking your weight weekly and witness how it is actually reducing, and also, throwing away double extra large-sized and extra large-sized shirt makes me feel good, it’s like all my hardship and effort was paid off.

Another important thing that comes out on my research, it only takes 3 – 4 months to keep your excitement after that, it depends on the situation, it said that you should find an exercise buddy or a diet partner for you to keep motivated and to continue and maintain what you have started. At first, I did not believed on that but I started to feel tired every time I do my work outs, I started to omit exercises from my routine little by little until I do not do any exercise anymore. Month of May when I stopped losing weight, that time I already weighed 75 kilograms and  I’m between medium-sized and large-sized. Due to my strict weight loss plan, it’s not easy to go back to my old habits so I still managed to control my eating habits.

Last week of August when my friend told me that I am gaining weights again, and to avoid those kind of talks, I started doing exercises again and did it for one and half month. My weight dropped to 67 kilograms and my waist was around 32 – 33 centimeters, of course I’m so proud of myself, but for the second time, I cannot maintain to keep on track on my weight loss plan, aside from no one is willing to join me on my exercises, I am also stress because of my school works particularly on my thesis, since my partner was the over-all organizer for our 17th Journalism seminar and I was the head of technical committee, we cannot focus on our thesis and other subjects, we are too concentrated to our seminar because our seminar itself is already full of stress, so to get rid of those stress, we eat and eat and eat. Well, I’m very much aware that I’m starting to get huge again, but my motto is “Until large-sized shirts suits on me, I’m still doing well”. Unfortunately, my friend and I went to ukay-ukay yesterday to buy clothes for New Year’s Eve, and there’s a jeans that caught my attention, I put it on and it’s fitted on me but not to the point that I can breathe comfortably, my stomach was also stacked, I can’t even sit down or bend down, but I really love that jean so I still bought it. Another thing, there’s an outfit I want to wear when start my internship but I can’t even raised my hand when I wore it, and since I want to work on magazine company, for the third time, I want to lose weight again. Today is December 28, and as of now I still not able to scale myself due to our weighing scale is broken, but I guess I gained 10-15 kilograms, and right now, I already went back to my old weight loss plan, I just hope that before April, our graduation pictorial, I can lose weight and wear Sailor Moon’s outfit for our creative shot, well that’s my classmates wish but probably, I just want to have a photo of myself without bulky legs, huge shoulders, double chin and stomach, I guess that’s the best creative shot I could think of and show off. From a girl who used to be fat turns to a woman who can bring herself confidently.

2.      DREAMS DO COME TRUE

I finally had my own space on our newspaper. April this year when our professor told us to produce a newspaper featuring Cavite, probably for a student whose taking up Journalism, it’s just a normal scenario, well it was, but for me, it was somehow special. Newspaper writing was by group and all of us in our group have to submit at least on news article. I’m doing fine until my group mates gave me the feature section who will leads the designs and content for that space, but of course with the participation of my group mates. We decided to features the tourist destinations, culture and foods in every municipalities of Cavite, from Bacoor City to Maragondon, we researched every information we could from internet and it turned out good with the editing skills of my classmate, Luke. While looking on our newspaper and reading my name on by line, I felt like my writing skills is finally improving, or rather, I’m finally learning and applying the art of writing in my life. It might sound exaggerated, for me it also does but I’m still overwhelmed because I’m starting to embrace the path where my life leads me and the journey that I decided to walk on when I accepted the fact that sometimes dreams are not meant to happened, including mine. It just an act to keep motivated and inspired to continue living your life. To digest what I am talking about, I give you a brief history way back before I entered college.

Third year high school, when I decided what course I really want to take in my college – Multimedia.  I want to learn cinematography and video editing, I want to learn how to make films, dramas, and commercials, I want to be a director, and for that dream of mine to come true, I should take Multimedia or at least Communication Arts. So when I was fourth year high school, I started looking for school that offers the course, but only few universities has the program – De La Salle University in Taft Avenue, Mapua University, Lyceum of the Philippines University in Manila, and Asian Pacific College. I crossed out DLSU from the beginning because I know that the tuition there is very expensive, so I applied for entrance examinations to the remaining universities. I first went to Mapua with my aunt and took up the exam. During the examination, there’s also a parent orientation, so we discovered that Mapua is actually quarter system meaning four semesters per year and it is very expensive to study there. Next, we went to Makati City where APC is located; I also took up the entrance exam and passed it. It looks fine and exciting to study there so I did not go back to LPU, I just waited for my high school graduation and enrollment for college. From September of 2013 up to last week of April 2014, all I thought is that I will be taking Multimedia for my college; I even brought my thing and moved to Bicutan City where my aunt is living to stay there during weekends so that I can save money for my transportation. Everything went well, until the last week of enrollment came, when my father dropped me to my aunt’s house and left after taking few drinks and had a short conversation with my uncle, I already knew that there’s something wrong but I wanted to keep thinking positively. The next day, I approached them if when will they enroll me because the day after that day will be the last day of acceptance of students in APC, but my aunt just walked me to their room and said that they cannot send me to any school due to financial problem, I will leave the rest of the story to the history, I thought everything was fine, so I never had a chance to think for alternative school and even a course but the Lord always have his way so I ended up taking Bachelor of Arts in major of Journalism in Cavite State University – Main Campus.

I want to write stories for films not a news story, I want to learn video lay-outing and editing not newspaper editing, I want to be a film staff, a script writer, a cinematographer, a director and not a news writer, a broadcaster, and anchor and most especially not a journalist. Journalism was nobody to my life, I believed that it is far away from my personality and interest, that it has nothing to do with me and to my future, not that day and not today, but what can I do, this is where my life leads me, I thought my college life would be boring but I guess I’m wrong, although I was not able to get the course I really like, it doesn’t mean that I cannot pursue the field I really love in the future, and that’s one of those lessons that I have learned for almost four year in CVSU.

Journalism is the closest course that my university is offering for me to enter film industry, so I took it. Through my years on college, I just realized that Journalism was really not for me, but during our mock interview last month as part of our final requirements, my professor asked me “What does Journalism has to make you like it?” I wanted to say “nothing” but at the back of my mind it says that it has. Journalism used to be a key to lighten me up that my course would not predict what kind of future is waiting for me, it make me realized that dreams will not just stop as dreams, no matter how hard we are going through, as long as we are determine to reach those dreams, in the right time with our Creator’s presence, that dream will happen. Journalism might not belong to my vocabulary before, but it is the one that helped me to get closer to the profession that I am really love – and that is to write and to capture. We cannot stack ourselves to the past, we need to find ways to move on and look forward to those things that waiting for us. Dream is another term for inspiration and today is what makes our tomorrow looks like. Writing used to be a hindrance to reach my goals but now writing is the only way I know to make my dreams come true.

3. BLOG LAUNCHING

How stupid and funny it is to think that the reason why I got hooked with blogging is because I need to compile my works - journals, poems, photos and videos, in the most organize and creative way I can do to present as my portfolio together with my curriculum vitae for the application of my internship. I never imagined myself putting in words all that happened to my whole day or trips and taking a photos in a street to post it online where in the first place I'm too lazy to update my status and profile picture in my facebook and twitter account, but now, look at me, I'm upgrading myself into something classy yet reachable blogger, I felt like I'm finally grabbing the opportunity to share my thoughts and experiences to others. Honestly, for me, having a blog is not a usual thing, you can't just be an expert in writings or photography but you also have to be and adventurous and creative individual.

Adventure is waiting for you out there, you should have guts to explore the outside and discover the mysteries in the inside. You have to be adventurous enough to make your journal worth sharing. You can write your experience on doing things you have never done before, tasting foods that first time to taste, climbing those high and rocky mountains, swimming and exploring beautiful beaches, visiting the world's tourist destinations, and the most awaiting adventure that really deserves to put in a journal, is your life - what kind of journey you been through, what are the things people should know about you, and those lessons that you have learned and want to share to others, those journals are not just a display to our blog but it can be a source of motivation and inspiration to our readers. I will share to you my top three favorite bloggers: Arisse De Santos, Kathryn Bernardo and Sarah Lahbati, every time I visit their blog, I always feel excited to start writing my stories and dreamed on having my own blog someday.

Creativity is not just a skill, its passion. Being creative doesn’t define in how colorful you can color those trees and flowers in coloring book either how may straight line you can draw on a white plain paper without using a ruler, but it’s all about how to get people's attention to attract them read your blogs and convince them to believe the messages and lessons that those writing of yours are trying to imply. Well, only creative people who can think of those ways, you may take as a joke so I am telling you right now that it is not, well obviously, I just want to share to you guys that probably belong to group of people who has creative minds, I cannot make you read my blog if I’m not, unless you are my professor and I pass this as my assignment entitled “Best of 2017”.

Going back to what I am saying a while ago, you have to be creative to make your blog outstanding and unique from others. In every photos, videos, music, travel and journals you will share online, you also need think ideas on how to persuade people to read and recognize your works, don’t just post it because if it will be like that, you just like blowing a balloon with a hole or sweeping the floor while the electric fan is on. You have to gain readers, not likes and hearts, let the people get involve, let them hear your voice and read your thoughts. You’re not just sharing but also informing and that’s the biggest responsibility of a blogger, since they are very accessible, a tendency of numerous people can see their posts online is very high, and that is one of my reasons why I cannot do blogging.

Another reason that stops me to start my own blog is because it is very hard to maintain – putting all that you have done in your whole trip into words, debating inside your mind if you should write it in Filipino or in English, choosing at least 10 pictures to share online out of 300-500 photos, editing your videos from you camera, and posting it on time though no one is actually waiting for your post. Lastly, it is also hard to be creative and put efforts. You can’t even do better with your projects and assignments, but if you have a blog, it will takes the whole days just to decide what theme and wallpaper you are going to use and another day for finalizing your domain and what you going to write in “about me” section. Everything about blogging is very difficult for me, that’s why I never promised to myself to have one, but no one can ever predict what the future can be, look at me now, I’m finally writing for my own blog. I want to showcase all my works from writings to videos, even my travels and daily routine, but there’s one thing I cannot do - beauty tutorials. If I will be able to make it in the future, I guess that will be the time that the definition of beauty will change, rather, beauty itself is based on the fighting spirit of the one whose making it.

This are not the only thing that I am thanking for year 2017, it just happened that I cannot finish writing the background story for the other seven events that already on my list since I’m too busy because it is holiday season but I will still share the other highlights for this year.

4.  February 09, 2017: I celebrated my 19th birthday with my family.

5. April 4-8, 2017: I attended the 24th International Conference in Ilocos Norte together with my fellow youth and had a chance to travel before and after the conference.

6. August 7, 2017: I went to school as a graduating student. Well, for me it one of the highlights of this year because after surviving the three years of college, I’m finally a graduating student and next year will be the year of my life and let’s hope for the best.

7.  August 30, 2017: I celebrated my 2nd anniversary as Chapter Head in our church community, Youth for Christ, I am so blessed and happy to spend my time serving the Lord and witness how great His love for me despite all the challenges that I encountered and waiting for me.

8.  September 24, 2017: My grandmother celebrated her 78th birthday. Her birthday will be always a highlight of my life because it is the day that God created the woman I will love for the rest of my life and it will be the day I can show my greatest love and gratitude to her. I am always praying and hoping for more birthdays to come for my love, my Nanay.

9. November 16, 2017: We conducted our 17th Journalism Seminar, there’s no big deal about but since I was the head of Technical Committee, I think I still enjoyed the event.

10. December 10, 2017: My cousin and I went to Maniwaya Island for the first time had experienced beach camping with strangers but after some conversation used to be our friends and now chat mates.

These are the highlights of my year 2017, I am looking forward to what is waiting for me in year 2018.

[hafab]

Roads of Annecy

9.05 pm.: The sun is setting on Annecy Lake. It’s a beautiful atmosphere. My friends tell me to put my feet into the water to avoid getting more cramps. Before doing that I have to take off my socks. But that gives me even more cramps. A vicious cycle.

But how did I get into this tricky situation?

16 hours and five minutes before, I started the longest run I ever took in my life. The start is in Annecy, at Plage d’Albigny. It’s exactly 5 am when a huge crowd of thousands of trailrunners starts moving.

Ah, Annecy Lake! How many memories! Running by the park close to the lake in Albigny where we used to sit until late. Leaving behind the casino and the Pop Plage, a wanna-be fancy club, where we sometimes managed to enter, other times we were rejected. Crossing Pont des Amours where we once jumped into the river after a memorable football game Germany-Italy in 2012.

Right after leaving the city, the road becomes steep. And the first traffic jam begins. If 1500 runners are starting together and reach a single-trail, this is inevitable. For the first 20km there will be loads of these traffic jams. My bib number defines that I start somewhere in the middle, about 800 runners in front of me. Until the point when we reach the peak of Semnoz after about three hours I’m almost constantly trying to overtake. It costs quite some energy but it would be much more frustrating to follow other runners and to run in a queue. Call it pride, but I just don’t like to run behind others. And after all, I’m feeling excellent, my heartrate is just fine (about 150) and my legs seem good.

On Semnoz, at km 18 there is the first of 3 refreshment points that also serves food. I take a banana and carry on. A rather long downhill is coming right after. I have some problems with my eyes. The mix of sun blocker and sweat are burning like crazy and my right contact lens moves around on my eye. Not ideal for a downhill, but there is still a lot of traffic and I just try to stay close behind another runner and to imitate his steps. Luckily he has just the right speed.

Around 5 hours after the start I’m eating my 4th energy gel (already quite annoyed by the taste) and I’m looking forward for the next real food at the second refreshment point at km 45. Before that, we experience what 32 degrees of air temperature actually mean. The sun is burning, no shade, and the racetrack is on asphalt. The first runners pass out. The horns of ambulances become a common sound from now on. I try to ignore it, but inevitably it does have some effect – I start to “inspect” my body. Heart rate? A little high but ok. Sun-burned? Not yet. Feeling hot? Yes, but nothing alarming. Feeling dehydrated? No. Checklist completed – turning off the brain again. After some painful kilometers I’m reaching the refreshmentpoint at Doussard.

So many memories again. It’s exactly the place where we landed five years ago after a paragliding flight.

I’m spending about 8 minutes inside the refreshment tent, eating some dried fruits and soup. Some runners take off their shoes, others are sleeping, others take a shower. I’m not sure whether a long break will be helpful, so I decide to continue. As I’m leaving the tent I’m feeling good and I decide to run the next 3 flat kms at a pace of 5:00/km.

5 minutes later I’m running into a wall at full speed. At least that’s how it feels like. My arms feel powerless, my legs shaky and my head is turning. It happens immediately, from one second to the other. I always thought, talks about “the wall” are nothing but legends, but here is the proof, here it is. Absolutely real, a wall made out of massive bricks. I’m trying to ignore my physical state, as in theory, nothing can be wrong. I just ate, drank and I’m even in the shade now. Curious how it will evolve I’m continuing with reduced speed. No overpassing anymore, just following the crowds.

The next ascend is the longest and most demanding of the whole course. It’s composed by three climbs: 650 m ascend to Montmin, a short descend, 400m to Chalet de l’Aulp, a short descent and finally 430m to highest point of the race, a crest close to the Dents de Lanfon.

Despite being remarkably weakened I manage getting up to Montmin with only one short break. The speed I had before is beyond reach but I don’t care about it anymore. Many runners from the relay are passing by. “A gauche” (“on your left”) is what they are shouting all the time, soon it starts to be annoying. It sounds like “Gosch” which in Tyrolean means “Shut up!” – this cannot be a coincidence!

The second climb is again exposed to the sun – no shade anywhere. I’m starting to struggle, holding my head in every fountain and creek there is. I feel incredibly weak, and even walking slowly becomes very difficult. Somehow I manage to get to Chalet de l’Aulp, at KM 53, but I’m completely destroyed. As soon as I see a place in the shade I lie down. My heart rate is beyond every control (sometimes low, sometimes high) I’m feeling cold for some unexplainable reason. I just cannot imagine continuing – I’m considering to give up. 100m further there is a medical tent – how easy would it be to step in there, telling that I’ll resign. They’d provide me with ice and I’d wait for the next shuttle carrying me down. After all, if I ever manage to get up again, how could I ever manage to run other 30 km and gain almost 1000 m of altitude? It wouldn’t be any shame after all – not finishing is something that happens quite commonly in ultramarathons. I’m trying to convince my ego to give up and I’m close to be successful. A hiker is passing asking “Ca va?”. I’m unable to talk, which might have been an answer on its own. He takes a can of Coca Cola out of his backpack handing it over saying it will help to “recharger”. I’m speechless – this is exactly what I needed. New motivation. Sugar. Coffein. A cold drink. Something to calm the voice in my head telling me to resign.

I’m finishing the drink sent from heaven and try to put together all my strengths. I manage to get on my feet again. I can even take a step. Then another one. Then – suddenly – I realize I’m running again.

Actually it’s going surprisingly well. I manage the little downhill, start to eat again and get ready for the next ascend. I’m feeling excellent now! I start overtaking runners again. How beautiful the mountains look now! Thank you unknown hiker! And thank you Coca Cola! A brass band is playing on the highest point of the trail – I’m really enjoying the run now.

The following downhill is long – almost never-ending. 10 km, losing 1200m of altitude with only 200m of ascend on small hills. The lower we get the hotter it gets. The sun is really beating against my body. I can literally feel the dehydration. As much as I want, my stomach cannot take so much water. The period of enthusiastic feelings is over as soon as I’m reaching the village of Menthon at km 70. Many runners are puking. Others are sleeping. One guy is standing in his backyard with his garden hose, spraying on the runners. I’m standing there for almost a minute. In Menthon there is the last refreshment point. I’m drinking as much Coke as I can, take some food and carry on.

The last hills are Mont Veyrier and Mont Baron – Mountains I know well from my time in Annecy. I managed to run 73 km, this final section will not kill me – that’s what I think. Soon after leaving the refreshment point, I realize, my stomach is blocked. And the battery of my watch is empty. I lost my sense of time many hours ago, losing also the watch is nothing you’d consider a plus. I’m asking another runner what time it is – that’s how I find out it’s time to eat. I’m not hungry at all, but I have one last gel and I want to take it. My stomach does not agree (no more details here). With an empty stomach I’m trying to carry on. Due to the dehydration, first cramps are starting. The last 500m of ascend are a real nightmare. Cramps come without any warning and with ever faster rhythms. The lake on my left looks very beautiful, but the cramps make it hard to enjoy the view. I’m losing a few positions, but finally I manage to reach the last peak. 

Now I realize how destroyed I am. There are about 4 km left, all in descend but I’m unable to run. No way. Physically impossible. Thus I’m walking downhill. It’s not nice to lose so many positions in the final part but I don’t care that much about position after all. And there is no other way anyways.

The last kilometers seem endless. I can hear the microphone and people shouting in the arrival at the lake, but it doesn’t seem to get closer. I’m asking a track guard: “How much left?”. He answers 2km. I’m not relieved. 2km – this can be a whole lot if you’re subjected to cramps, dehydrated and without any energy. Finally I reach the first houses of Annecy and I’m leaving the last steep paths behind me. Suddenly an EMBS Friend, Nicolas, appears as I’m approaching Annecy Lake. He’s joining me for the last few hundered meters. On the way we’re meeting other familiar faces – a very good friend from EMBS and her boyfriend complete our little group and together we’re getting closer to the finish.

  In order to cross the finish line I have to take a few stairs. I’m actually not very sure if I can make that. Desperately I try to run instead of walking and to take the stairs and smile for the finisher pic. The last tough challenge of the day.

I had imagined finishing the Maxi-Race many times – wondering how relieved, enthusiastic, happy I’d feel. At the moment of finishing I feel exactly nothing. My heart is beating, my blood flowing, my body functioning – subjected to painful cramps but functioning. Beyond that – nothing. No joy, no enthusiasm, not feeling relieved. Just empty.

Sitting by the water and wondering how I should ever manage to stand on my feet again, I’m glad to have some friends around. Organizing a massage and helping me to get rid of my cramps. “Will you do it again” asks one of my friends. I don’t know. At that moment I don’t know anything. I’m sitting by the water and soon I’ll have a rest – this is all I know

It took me a few days to realize my relief and my happiness. I’d achieved what I’d been training for for three months. It was a lot longer than expected; it also was harder, hotter, and tougher. It probably was the toughest experience in my life – physically and mentally. It took me way beyond my limits – or what I thought would be my limits. And to answer the question whether I’d do something like this again: Yes, I would. There are still so many mountains and hills worth climbing, so many roads and landscapes worth exploring!

See more pics: https://photos.app.goo.gl/CFmLcxfDmvwGfvxk2

[betsynagler]

I Want a New Drug, or, The Wrong Four Years To Stop Sniffing Glue

I’ve always had a pretty positive relationship with alcohol. I know this isn’t true of many people, especially women, but in my own life, I really can’t think of any negative experiences that befell me because I drank too much. I always knew that my parents drank but not to excess. They were the kind of people that had a coffee table that opened up into a bar because everyone did in the 70s, but pretty much the only time anyone went in there was to get rum for cooking, or to bring out weird bottles of stuff that nobody really wanted to try but my father had picked up somewhere out of curiosity (like Goldwasser, which exists because…alchemy?). The first time I remember having alcohol was trying egg nog at one of my parents’ New Year’s Eve parties, all of which I have fond memories of as being fine times when lots of adults came over and were more friendly to me than usual (and no, not in an icky way). I had my first buzz at maybe 15, off white sangria at a Spanish restaurant in Newark, also with my parents, and it was very pleasant. I started drinking with friends not that long after, thanks to a liquor store, also in Newark, that sold to minors with fake IDs that every teenager in the suburbs knew about. As is typical with privileged suburban kids taking advantage of urban blight, nothing bad ever happened to any of us, except maybe for the time the friend buying the alcohol for a party got arrested for having too much alcohol in a vehicle, which apparently is against the law in New Jersey, probably to prevent exactly what we were doing — but even that just turned into a good story. There was also the time I had a small party at my house while my parents were away, and some things got broken — a bean bag chair (someone rode it down the stairs), the screen door (probably by the same someone, though I don’t know how). My brother even told my parents about the party, but again, it just turned into a funny story for them to tell my relatives at Thanksgiving, because they knew I was a responsible kid. The first time I got drunk at college resulted in my first hangover, thanks to the Everclear-laced “jungle juice” served at the Theta Xi fraternity, but thereafter, I was careful about tasty punches, and didn’t have another hangover for three years (until the quarter I spent at Oxford my junior year, and that was because England + Stanford students = mixing Kahlua with, like, everything). My first time throwing up from drinking wasn’t until my 30s. It took me until then to realize that three martinis was too many, but again, I learned my lesson, and have only been sick from drinking one time since — so that’s twice ever.

Things changed a bit some time in my 30s, when I started to have stomach issues. I actually wrote something about this years ago when I felt like I was doing better. It does that, my stomach, goes through periods of being better and worse. I started taking probiotics and that seemed to make things better, and I confirmed that by going off them and discovering that that seemed to make things worse, so now I definitely take probiotics. I also realized, through more totally unscientific experimentation (otherwise known as “eating and drinking”) that acid reflux was a factor. This is why I don’t drink coffee any more, and try to avoid spicy food (which is tough when your favorite cuisines are Indian, Thai, Chinese, Tibetan, Malaysian, Mexican — yes, basically anything spicy), and too much juice, and tomato sauce, and a handful of other things. Oh, and alcohol. However, whereas coffee gives me literally immediate acid reflux which turns into a stomach ache within half an hour, with alcohol, if I’ve been good in other ways, I can usually get away with it here and there without suffering major consequences. It’s only on the third night or so of drinking a couple of glasses of wine that it becomes apparent that something is very very bad and I need to stop. How can I tell? Oh, something about the combination of a burning sensation in my throat, tightness in my chest, the taste of acid in my mouth in the morning, the need to clear my throat incessantly, and a somewhat diminished appetite from just feeling kind of gross — all of which one can easily ignore if you like drinking as much as I do.

Because here’s the thing: thanks to a combination of genetics, common sense, and control issues, a fairly small amount of alcohol has always really been enough to make me happy. Having a couple of drinks removes my inhibitions and anxiety just enough that I feel like a more outgoing, more carefree version of myself, who can dance. I’m really, at heart, an awkward, shy person, something of an introvert, which means I’m basically much more comfortable in all social situations after one to two drinks. I can’t be sure that I’m truly wittier and more fun at that point, but I certainly feel like I am, and that makes a huge difference in helping me get to being that person. Going beyond that, however, to where I’m aware of the fact that I’m not in control — slurring my speech, walking in a wavy line, saying embarrassing things — I do not like, at all. I find it hard to relate to people who get black-out drunk, or who make serious mistakes that they wouldn’t make when they were sober, because I’m too self-conscious to be unaware that I’m losing my grip en route to getting there. Even in cases where I had sex with people after drinking that I later regretted, I had already made the decision to have the sex before I started drinking; it was just part of the follow-through. Sadly, that’s how I roll. I think too much, and while drinking makes me think less, even well-lubricated I am still way too aware of how people are reacting to me, and that is a major buzz kill. So I’d just rather not get to the point where I’m doing stuff that makes me feel stupid — walking funny, slurring my speech, laughing too loud — and that’s pretty much what happens at drink #3/4 in the course of one evening. Basically, something has to be really, really wrong for me to get to that place.

So of course, the only time in recent memory that I got that drunk was on election night. I had bourbon. I never drink bourbon. I had two — after a martini, and before a final glass of wine. That was over about five hours, mind you (although the bartender got more and more generous as he realized that we were all doomed), and still I stumbled home, already feeling ill, from the bar where I’d been watching the returns come in, got no sleep — that’s another thing that happens when I drink that I could easily ignore when I was younger: it really messes up my sleep — and had to go to work the next day at the unfairly early hour of 10 am. Luckily, the job was easy and my boss was sympathetic (we were all fucking freaking out if you recall), but that day and the several after that was reminder that I really, really, cannot do that any more.

But when the world is going to shit, it’s really, really hard to stop drinking. I get home from work after a long day, during which I do something which can be somewhat stressful for work and spend my downtime on set on Facebook or Twitter or reading the news, or talking to people about the news and Facebook and Twitter, and I want a drink. Just one glass of wine, that’s all. Nope, now, I can’t do that regularly, my stomach isn’t having it. If I’ve had a few glasses of wine over the weekend, there has to be a cooling down period of at least a few days, preferably longer, or else the irritation keeps building. As a result, I now have to prioritize my drinking. Like, when do I really need to have a drink and when do I not? “What’s that look like?” you may ask. Here’s the list I’ve come up with, in order of priority:

1) Networking events.

2) When I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep because I’m freaking out over the state of the world.

3) When it’s late and I can’t sleep because I’ve been spending too much time looking at Facebook/Twitter/NY Times app freaking out over the state of the world, and I have to get up the next day.

4) Family get-togethers.

5) Parties.

6) Tapas bars.

7) When it’s late and I’ve been spending too much time on Facebook/Twitter and I don’t have to get up the next day, but I’d still like to be functional in the morning.

8) Just for fun at a restaurant or bar.

Note that “Just for fun” has fallen to the bottom of the list. Now, you might ask, “Aren’t parties also ‘Just for fun,’?” and the answer would be “Yes, mostly,” but they rank higher on the scale of alcohol necessity because they generally involve socializing with larger groups of people, many of whom I may not have met before, barely know, and/or wouldn’t normally hang out with, so let’s just say that when it comes to parties, the amount of alcohol tends to be more directly proportional to the amount of fun had (introverts, back me up here, I know you know what I’m talking about). And tapas bars also rank above “Just for fun” even though, again, they are fun, because I went to Spain two years ago and seriously, what’s the point of a tapas bar without wine? Anyway, my point is: this list is sad. Living in NYC, nearly my entire social life in my 20s and 30s took place in bars, and now, my drinking priorities are first and foremost about not so much enjoying myself as about getting by.

I realized, given the current state of things — did I mention that I’m also on an email list called, “What The Fuck Just Happened Today���? — that I needed to find another way to take the edge off, and since I wasn't actually going to start sniffing glue, I decided to give marijuana a try as a replacement. My experiences with pot have also been fairly positive, but not nearly as frequent. I've probably been stoned a grand total of less than 20 times in my entire life, and this despite the fact that my relationship to weed also began at a youthful age. My parents smoked pot, but that was more of a deterrent than anything else: nothing reduces the cool quotient of drugs as a teenager like having your parents do them. Nevertheless, it would have been kind of hard to avoid at my high school, which had a reputation for stoners, and lots of people in my peer group seemed to have ready access to it. I had to try weed several times before I actually got high, though, perhaps since I never smoked cigarettes, so the whole breathing smoke into your lungs thing was kind of alien to me. My friend’s (possibly underage and who eventually came out of the closet. Yep: suburbia) boyfriend at the time had to make it his mission to get me stoned one night, using a gravity bong — basically one half of an emptied liter bottle, with a bowl made out of the cap enhanced with aluminum foil, half submerged in a bucket of water. When you light the bowl at the top, you lift the bottle up in the water, and the suction draws the smoke out and fills the plastic half-liter with it. Then you take the cap off, put your mouth over the top of the bottle, and push down on it as you breathe in, which forces a lot of pot smoke into your lungs. Who says physics can’t be fun? So that worked, and all of my friends who were there that night enjoyed watching me be stoned, which still didn't decrease the fun of it, because they were all stoned too. Ever since, I’ve generally had fun getting high, and in a variety of situations — hanging with friends, parties with new acquaintances, crew colleagues on shoots out of town. One of the nice things about having it be a more unusual occurrence than drinking for me is that the unique experiences are more distinct in my memory. The one time I remember having a bad time was when I took medical marijuana with an ex-boyfriend toward the end of our relationship. The two things I was sure of, even though I was high, were that 1) he wasn’t, and 2) our relationship was doomed — which it was, but that just wasn’t the evening I was looking for at the time.

So it was a complete surprise to me that when I decided to try marijuana again recently, I had what can only be described as a terrible trip. I used some medical marijuana chocolate in what I thought was the proper dosage of only a quarter of a square, though considering the way chocolate fragments unevenly, and that I ate all of the fragments, it was probably more. We were watching TV, so I didn’t notice it coming on until I got up to get a glass of water, and realized that time had stopped. I was fully prepared to go back to watching TV, but soon I discovered that that wasn’t working out at all. I couldn’t follow anything — even The Big Bang Theory was unfathomable — and on top of that, I kept worrying about the fact that I couldn’t follow The Big Bang Theory. Could Damon tell that I couldn’t keep up with the show? Was I suddenly stupid? Would I get to the end of the episode, not knowing what had happened…and then what? Damon wasn’t going to want to watch it again! Moreover, did this mean that I was now an idiot? Would I never be able to follow any TV show, ever? Eventually we gave up on that show and tried watching Clueless, thinking it would be easier to follow since I have probably seen it half a dozen times, but no. I still couldn’t follow the plot, which upset me because it was fucking Clueless, and yet despite that, I was inordinately caught up in it on an emotional level. People seemed to be so mean to each other, or poking fun at situations and people that were not funny. How could Cher and Dionne trick Mr. Hall and Ms. Geist for the sake of improving their grades, and then ruins things between Tai and Travis before they even get started?! This was clearly fucked up. What was wrong with me that I saw this was wrong but everyone else watching clearly thought it was funny? What was wrong with them? What the hell was wrong with the world?! And even while all of this was stressing me out, I couldn’t stop watching TV because I was afraid of what would happen if I got up. I was also afraid to drink wine and I was afraid to go to sleep, but eventually I did both of those things, one leading to the other I suppose. The worst part of all, though, was that I woke up the next day no longer stoned, and thinking it was all over — but it wasn’t. When I left the house and had to deal with the outside world, I was second-guessing myself on absolutely everything. Was I driving stupidly? Was I doing everything wrong at pilates, and was anyone watching? Was I making dumb shopping decisions at the Co-op? Was I now permanently going to be making dumb decisions, or just worry that I was all the time? Was my brain now broken? Didn’t you hear stories about that happening to people? — for probably another eight to ten hours. The only thing that somehow did not provoke my anxiety hangover was coming home and playing Plants vs. Zombies 2 over and over again, despite repeated losses accompanied by the message “THE ZOMBIES ATE YOUR BRAINS!” (Plants vs. Zombies 2, so utterly mindless yet completely absorbing, has actually helped me a lot since the election.) Finally, at a certain point, I felt like myself again, as well as a person who might someday be able to have contact with others.

The sad thing is that I think the bad trip was just me unfiltered and magnified. I have, of course, developed coping skills since adolescence – yes, aside from alcohol, and Prozac – to tamp all down the over-thinking, the self-consciousness, and the anxiety that goes with them to a manageable level on a daily basis. At the wise old age of 48, these are things that I know that I do and I am able to distract myself from them – Hey, look over there! It’s a kiddie ride! When I got stoned this time, I couldn’t look away, and I don’t know why. Yes, I think it’s fairly safe to say that I was more stoned than I’d ever been before, but I don’t know if I can blame the terrible nature of the experience on that. And even though my last medical marijuana episode wasn’t good, it wasn’t anything like this. Which takes me back to maybe my brain really is broken – not from smoking pot, but from not smoking it. The way that all of my experiences with drugs and my body – from alcohol to Pepto Bismol to Robitussen (which, no, I haven’t used recreationally) – have changed over time, it’s not hard for me to believe that in the…wow, eight years since I last got high, my brain chemistry has changed enough that this is how getting stoned is going to be from now on. Combine this with my inability to drink alcohol, eat spicy food, and play any sport with lateral movement (knees), and one could easily conclude that my body is now, saying to me, “You’re 48, you’ve officially had all of the fun you’re entitled to. NO MORE FUN FOR YOU!” Yes, my body has become the Soup Nazi.

All I can do is hope not, or at least hope this current situation doesn’t last. I mean, I know that the stomach situation probably will, and that the Trump situation probably will, but I think that my relationship to depressants will have to change. I will have to learn to just want them rather than need them. Exercise is already a crutch for me, and I don’t really have time to do more of that than I already do. I’ve used sleeping pills for periods of time and I don’t really want to go back there — for a shitty sleeper like me, it’s too easy to get hooked. I’ve tried meditation, and it hasn’t really worked, but I probably need to give it more of a chance. Because now I’ve got four years to get through, on top of the continuing mid-life bullshit, and what else is there?

[octaviasparkles-blog]

I'm really quite new to this but I want to share my experiences so that maybe I can help others. I have lots of positive influences in my life that I have built-up, I've made myself a happy place to be and a life I'm getting proud of. But It all started from rock bottom, and the building has been really hard work. In school I was the stereotypical good girl. From reception to year 12 I never had a time out or detention, and the idea of getting in trouble stressed me out. In year 3 when our first major testing came round my parents and my teachers agreed that something was wrong. I have 4 'a's in my name and an 'r' and in year 3 I still wrote the letters backwards. Later that year just as my grandfather passed away I was diagnosed with dyslexia. People have a hard time understanding that I have a learning disability because I am and have always been intelligent. I'm good at maths and science and from year 3 onward I did extra work every night so I could be the same as everyone else, or better. In highschool I made the top 10% of my grade each year and consistently got good grades. I never told anyone about the hours and hours of work I put in each day to get to that level. I was mentally and emotionally drained and I was numb. I'd scratch myself to feel something dig my nails in to feel pain because at least pain is a feeling. The pressures of year 12 finally got to me and I was suicidal. I was walking alone thinking about the best way to die that would be the least amount of mess and fuss for everyone. I couldn't do it at home it would taint the house my parents and brother loved so much, I decided a local quarry would be the perfect place I could jump and feel like I was flying. I was sitting on the top of the quarry, when I started thinking about my little brother, he's 4 years my junior and was quite an anxious boy, he stressed a lot and often had trouble fitting in as he is gifted and often didn't find children games fun or would over analyze the game to make sure he understood it. I realised that I couldn't leave him, he needed me and the next day I went to the councilor for the first time. Year 12 in Australia is all about working hard all year to get a competitive ATAR, to get in to University. I had always wanted to go to uni, never particularly set on what to study but I wanted to be able to take what ever my heart desired. So to cover all potential prerequisite slots I took physics, specialist mathematics, mathematical studies and biology. Having such intensive subjects pushed me and I was in a permanent state of exhaustion and isolation. My best friend since reception decided that we weren't close anymore and slowly cut ties preferring new friends to me. And by exams I was well and truly alone. I loved creating things and decided engineering was something achievable for me to get into and I could exceed in. I could make good money and be set for life. I stayed home whilst my classmates when to schoolies and though I attended a new year's eve party with them it was very obvious that I was an outsider. I dated someone I didn't particularly like and never loved because the physical intimacy was a nice break from the stress of reality. He brought my mood lower but I had a saving grace a few months after school ended a group of girls I knew well and got along with individually invited me into their group, they are now still amazing beautiful friends. I started university doing a bachelor's of Mechatronic Engineering. I was in classes with boys I went to high school with and I was the only girl in my degree that year. I had a ratio of 36 males to 1 me. I was always looked on as a sort of novelty there because I was a girl, tutors often ignored my questions or told me to get one of the boys to help me or answered the question to the person next to me instead. It was frustrating but made me determined to show them I could do just as well as them if not better. Some times I passed sometimes I failed and the failure brought me so low I'd crawl into a ball and cry for hours. For two years I got lower and lower, hating every aspect of my life and being I turned to just food for comfort gaining 25kg. I broke ended the uncomfortable relationship and felt a little lighter and I started doing things for myself. But I was failing more than I was passing. I am not good at exams they stress me out and I panic, all or most engineering subjects have exams worth 70% of the final grade. After a year of being single I went to a quiz night as a plus one for one of my friends. She had a table of uni friends and needed one more, so I went. It was Marvel themed and I love the marvel universe. I met a guy there who could not understand why I don't like batman, preferring his villains to him any day. This fantastic guy is funny, caring, charismatic and loves me as I am, happy or sad or frustrated. We have now been together for 2 years. But this isn't a story about how someone raced in and saved me. We had been dating for 9 months when my break down finally happened. I found myself crying uncontrollably and gasping for breath curled up in the bottom of my wardrobe, my mind felt useless and broken not something to treasure or be proud of. It was one week before exams of my third year of engineering. I had already dropped to half load (2 subjects instead of 4) but it wasn't enough, I had all the possible support in the world offered by my friends and family and my loving boyfriend but it was too late and I crumbled. My university referred me to a Dr as I called the counseling services from my wardrobe. My Dr was wonderful and helped set me up with a mental health plan. The university wiped my record so the fails didn't affect my GPA, and in the summer of 2016 I started seeing a psychologist. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression and put on a low dose of citolapram. Two weeks later my boyfriend was diagnosed with cancer and I honestly believe that the medication helped me rationalise and process what was happening. I took the first semester off to recover and help my boyfriend through surgery and radiation and my brother through year 12. I started building my life up again, started eating better and exercising. I started a yoga class with my mother and when my boyfriend was given the all clear I started going to the gym with him. Him to rebuild his strength and myself to build muscle and burn the excess fat. It was hard and painful and 6 months on it still kills me to run and lift weights I sweat and swear and I still hate it. But it helps me get better so I do it. During my semester off I completed a life long dream and published a children's book. I wrote, illustrated and funded my publication alone and I've never been so proud. I decided to go back in second semester and try just one subject that I had previously failed. I passed but still had panic attacks weekly. I had a realisation that there was no way I wanted to feel this way for another day, week, semester or year let alone the rest of my working career, and so 3 years in to a 4 year degree I took the leap and changed degrees. I'm now doing a double degree in science and arts, where I'm studying languages, biology, psychology and chemistry. I'm still on medication and some days are still bad days. I still do extra work and try really hard, but sometimes I just can't read or write properly. And that's OK it means I need a break and I play with my dog or bird or just take a breath and have a meditation session or nap to calm music generally classical. I've learnt medication can't automatically fix you, that nobody can save you but they can help pull you out of the dark, rebuilding of your life however, that's up to you. I'm getting really proud of my life and I want to share what I have accomplished.

[hudsonespie]

COVID-19: Fact Suppression or Careless Under-reporting?

Human Rights at Sea CEO David Hammond shares his thoughts on recent evidence presented to the charitable NGO for what he says appears to be an unexplained under-reporting of the detail of the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic on seafarers and their families.

Hammond suggests that there is an unnecessary fear of telling the truth thereby potentially causing panic in what could be a long-haul. It is asserted that people would prefer being told the truth of their predicament, not to be shielded from it. “It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis,” says Hammond.

Editorial by David Hammond, CEO of Human Rights at Sea

Reporting for seven years without fear or favor, Human Rights at Sea continues to independently highlight the detailed plight of seafarers and fishers working at the front-end keeping our global supply chains open with food on our tables, goods delivered and raw materials for manufacturing industries flowing.

Rightly alongside our respective State emergency services, armed forces and frontline critical care workers, seafarers are our savors for those of us fortunate enough to receive goods delivered by sea during this COVID-19 pandemic.

Meantime, globally, there will be thousands of humans who will not be so lucky to receive such support. Let us not ignore them just because it may be a difficult consideration or far away from one’s own reality.

The high-levels of eventual casualties of COVID-19, besides those reported throughout Europe and China, will most likely be reflected in those living in the developing world, those trapped in immigration and asylum centers, those in need of UN feeding programs, those moving on global migratory routes fleeing wars, oppression, sexual servitude, slavery and trafficking and unaccompanied minors.

In better times, such casualties of circumstance may well have been the focus of corporate social responsibility programs enhancing commercial image and the “ticking of the social welfare box.”

For the maritime sector, such casualties may include crew (and passengers) who are asymptomatic with no reported symptoms but are still contagious, are unlucky enough to become ill ashore, or become ill in an enclosed vessel which is then prevented either temporarily or permanently from gaining port entry, or from obtaining timely-resupply of essential medical supplies and therefore essential succor. 

Arguably, it is not going to be too long before yellow flags are flown on commercial vessels denoting the ship is under quarantine; but who will report this publicly preventing it being hidden behind corporate or flag State veils? Who will track the consequences for those it affects?

The Current Narrative

What we are currently seeing portrayed through established media and social media outlets is an unbalanced advancing of the corporate “seafarers will not leave their posts” stoic narrative. But this is not balanced, nor is it entirely correct. Much is going on that is yet unreported.

Meantime, the current public narrative fails to address, in any detail, the very real hardships of the many seafarers who underpin commercial maritime development and its profit. This most probably relates to the inconvenient and uncomfortable truth of the current situation.

That said, not everyone in the industry is towing the party line.

On March 25, The New York Times issued a telling article “Trapped at Sea by Covid-19 Lockdowns, Crew Members Plead for Help” which was contributed to by numerous leading maritime industry figures, including Frank Coles, CEO of Hong Kong based Wallem Group, who previously has systematically challenged the maritime industry dystopian structures, as well as myself who was separately asked to provide evidence and access to seafarers suffering at the present time. At that time our NGO had been deluged with pleas for help, despite it not being a welfare organization.

Evidence and Transparency

By way of evidence of “bad examples,” below are some of the statements and information sent by seafarers who have contacted Human Rights at Sea, some in fear of their jobs and black-listing should they speak out. It should be noted that welfare organizations and unions must be in receipt of the same, though many times more.

• “I cannot disclose the company or ship name. I don’t know what action will be taken against me…they could have arranged sign off but they did not. Now there is no way to go home.”

• “Sir. Many of us completed our tenure but can’t go home due to lock down situation worldwide and in [our]home country. Moreover we are being sent for [to] highly affected EU countries. Panic is there onboard as well as at home. In this severe situation we would like to be with our families to support them. Company appreciated us for keeping up supply chain worldwide but who is going to take care of us and our family??”

• “I am stranded in Hotel since 4th March on Tunisia and you aware I came to join ship. I don’t know whether I will be able to join ship or come back to India which is ban till 14th April. How long will I pay hotel bills. I have to pay loan EMi and feed family. Company has not supported in this crisis as my contract is valid from day I  join the ship. Tunisia is ban till 4th April and may delay further. I don’t understand how long will seafarer will stay without salary and support families if no income.”

• “It’s not much fun being on a ship right now. There’s a serious lack of, one might say ‘essence’ among the crew. Lot of frightened people. Lot of people very worried about family, most of the offices are closed so logistic comes are a clusterfuck. This is a chance for the DPAs to shine. But so far nothing. I’d say 70% of the world’s fleet is approaching skeleton crew. Sure, it’s a global nightmare but it’s not what a lot of these signed for. Lots of folk expected their companies to look after them. Seems the demands on the fleet is getting greater with less logistic support less crew on board and less aggressive support. Having said that I can’t gripe my gang are all OK. Home and aboard, we’ve got some good banter going. Those guys in the article though that’s happened a lot and still happening. Really shitty.”

• “Internet connections shipboard. There’s usually a system for crew to have access to a messaging service through Wi-Fi evergreen use Whats app I think we use messenger or Viber I’m not sure. You are given or buy a data allowance. And can message whenever you like providing connection is good.  If that connection goes down the crew have little or no contact with family at home because if you read the WHO special requirements for ports it’s becoming more and more difficult to get local SIM cards.”

• “Sign off cancelled as travel restrictions imposed. Now crew change is impossible as no government will lift travel restrictions due to impact of coronavirus.”

• “This is really bad by the companies…we have not signed contract for this…we should have the say.”

• “I have a 3 months contract now I am already over 4 months on board, with most of the counties shutting down borders it looks [like we] Would be on board for a few months at least and even if can get off from the vessel might get stuck in some airport. Though the flights are shut but the ships are still going to corona infected areas like Spain and Italy, with insufficient disinfectants sanitisers and medical equipment.”

• “Only fear is in case someone gets corona on board it’s a closed environment would get transmitted to all on board. And in such a case for sure no country will allow the vessel in its ports. For now we are just checking daily temperature of all crew and people coming on board.”

• “As of now there is no communication from the office regarding my salary not being paid. What do we do?”

• “Because of heavy [expensive] port charges they won’t take us to [an] Indian port. But we are very worried about family because they need us bad.”

• “Sir, is there any possibility on policy changes for seafarers to get back to their family? It is very concerning.”

• “I had a new born baby after my joining here. I have to see him.”

News Suppression?

Let us be in no doubt that this pandemic is deadly.

It is a threat to our way of living and our humanity. It will change the way we think, the way we act and how we engage with those around us. The greatest irony being that a virus, which ranges in size from about 20 to 400 nanometres in diameter, is now starting to re-establish a new working order in our globalized world.

We are rightly hearing the positive and often stoic narratives of those seafarers who are staying onboard, keeping calm and carrying on, maintaining global supply lines and remaining at sea for the global common good. We sincerely thank them.

But what we are not hearing on any scale from within the maritime sector and some organizations, are the real details of the alternative reality and of the uncomfortable stories reflecting the consequences of those not fortunate enough to have support of the big commercial companies who are pushing this stoic messaging. Without this, we have an incomplete and less-than-transparent picture of what is occurring.

Undeniably, facts save lives and reduce suffering, but currently a potential fear of the facts is stymieing wider public awareness and therefore support to seafarers and their families, as well as highlighting need for critical support to front-line welfare organizations.

Questions must now be asked of whether is there a deliberate suppression of the facts and ground-truth, particularly for those seafarers who are not being currently employed but are in the crew management system, careless under-reporting, or just a convenient avoidance of the inconvenient truth behind the ongoing suffering of seafarers and their families during the COVID-19 crisis?

This is not a “bleeding-heart liberal” perspective, but the position from the other side of the commercial-civil society paradigm, like it or not.

It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis.

  from Storage Containers https://maritime-executive.com/article/covid-19-fact-suppression-or-careless-under-reporting via http://www.rssmix.com/

[hudsonespie]

COVID-19: Fact Suppression or Careless Under-reporting?

Human Rights at Sea CEO David Hammond shares his thoughts on recent evidence presented to the charitable NGO for what he says appears to be an unexplained under-reporting of the detail of the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic on seafarers and their families.

Hammond suggests that there is an unnecessary fear of telling the truth thereby potentially causing panic in what could be a long-haul. It is asserted that people would prefer being told the truth of their predicament, not to be shielded from it. “It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis,” says Hammond.

Editorial by David Hammond, CEO of Human Rights at Sea

Reporting for seven years without fear or favor, Human Rights at Sea continues to independently highlight the detailed plight of seafarers and fishers working at the front-end keeping our global supply chains open with food on our tables, goods delivered and raw materials for manufacturing industries flowing.

Rightly alongside our respective State emergency services, armed forces and frontline critical care workers, seafarers are our savors for those of us fortunate enough to receive goods delivered by sea during this COVID-19 pandemic.

Meantime, globally, there will be thousands of humans who will not be so lucky to receive such support. Let us not ignore them just because it may be a difficult consideration or far away from one’s own reality.

The high-levels of eventual casualties of COVID-19, besides those reported throughout Europe and China, will most likely be reflected in those living in the developing world, those trapped in immigration and asylum centers, those in need of UN feeding programs, those moving on global migratory routes fleeing wars, oppression, sexual servitude, slavery and trafficking and unaccompanied minors.

In better times, such casualties of circumstance may well have been the focus of corporate social responsibility programs enhancing commercial image and the “ticking of the social welfare box.”

For the maritime sector, such casualties may include crew (and passengers) who are asymptomatic with no reported symptoms but are still contagious, are unlucky enough to become ill ashore, or become ill in an enclosed vessel which is then prevented either temporarily or permanently from gaining port entry, or from obtaining timely-resupply of essential medical supplies and therefore essential succor. 

Arguably, it is not going to be too long before yellow flags are flown on commercial vessels denoting the ship is under quarantine; but who will report this publicly preventing it being hidden behind corporate or flag State veils? Who will track the consequences for those it affects?

The Current Narrative

What we are currently seeing portrayed through established media and social media outlets is an unbalanced advancing of the corporate “seafarers will not leave their posts” stoic narrative. But this is not balanced, nor is it entirely correct. Much is going on that is yet unreported.

Meantime, the current public narrative fails to address, in any detail, the very real hardships of the many seafarers who underpin commercial maritime development and its profit. This most probably relates to the inconvenient and uncomfortable truth of the current situation.

That said, not everyone in the industry is towing the party line.

On March 25, The New York Times issued a telling article “Trapped at Sea by Covid-19 Lockdowns, Crew Members Plead for Help” which was contributed to by numerous leading maritime industry figures, including Frank Coles, CEO of Hong Kong based Wallem Group, who previously has systematically challenged the maritime industry dystopian structures, as well as myself who was separately asked to provide evidence and access to seafarers suffering at the present time. At that time our NGO had been deluged with pleas for help, despite it not being a welfare organization.

Evidence and Transparency

By way of evidence of “bad examples,” below are some of the statements and information sent by seafarers who have contacted Human Rights at Sea, some in fear of their jobs and black-listing should they speak out. It should be noted that welfare organizations and unions must be in receipt of the same, though many times more.

• “I cannot disclose the company or ship name. I don’t know what action will be taken against me…they could have arranged sign off but they did not. Now there is no way to go home.”

• “Sir. Many of us completed our tenure but can’t go home due to lock down situation worldwide and in [our]home country. Moreover we are being sent for [to] highly affected EU countries. Panic is there onboard as well as at home. In this severe situation we would like to be with our families to support them. Company appreciated us for keeping up supply chain worldwide but who is going to take care of us and our family??”

• “I am stranded in Hotel since 4th March on Tunisia and you aware I came to join ship. I don’t know whether I will be able to join ship or come back to India which is ban till 14th April. How long will I pay hotel bills. I have to pay loan EMi and feed family. Company has not supported in this crisis as my contract is valid from day I  join the ship. Tunisia is ban till 4th April and may delay further. I don’t understand how long will seafarer will stay without salary and support families if no income.”

• “It’s not much fun being on a ship right now. There’s a serious lack of, one might say ‘essence’ among the crew. Lot of frightened people. Lot of people very worried about family, most of the offices are closed so logistic comes are a clusterfuck. This is a chance for the DPAs to shine. But so far nothing. I’d say 70% of the world’s fleet is approaching skeleton crew. Sure, it’s a global nightmare but it’s not what a lot of these signed for. Lots of folk expected their companies to look after them. Seems the demands on the fleet is getting greater with less logistic support less crew on board and less aggressive support. Having said that I can’t gripe my gang are all OK. Home and aboard, we’ve got some good banter going. Those guys in the article though that’s happened a lot and still happening. Really shitty.”

• “Internet connections shipboard. There’s usually a system for crew to have access to a messaging service through Wi-Fi evergreen use Whats app I think we use messenger or Viber I’m not sure. You are given or buy a data allowance. And can message whenever you like providing connection is good.  If that connection goes down the crew have little or no contact with family at home because if you read the WHO special requirements for ports it’s becoming more and more difficult to get local SIM cards.”

• “Sign off cancelled as travel restrictions imposed. Now crew change is impossible as no government will lift travel restrictions due to impact of coronavirus.”

• “This is really bad by the companies…we have not signed contract for this…we should have the say.”

• “I have a 3 months contract now I am already over 4 months on board, with most of the counties shutting down borders it looks [like we] Would be on board for a few months at least and even if can get off from the vessel might get stuck in some airport. Though the flights are shut but the ships are still going to corona infected areas like Spain and Italy, with insufficient disinfectants sanitisers and medical equipment.”

• “Only fear is in case someone gets corona on board it’s a closed environment would get transmitted to all on board. And in such a case for sure no country will allow the vessel in its ports. For now we are just checking daily temperature of all crew and people coming on board.”

• “As of now there is no communication from the office regarding my salary not being paid. What do we do?”

• “Because of heavy [expensive] port charges they won’t take us to [an] Indian port. But we are very worried about family because they need us bad.”

• “Sir, is there any possibility on policy changes for seafarers to get back to their family? It is very concerning.”

• “I had a new born baby after my joining here. I have to see him.”

News Suppression?

Let us be in no doubt that this pandemic is deadly.

It is a threat to our way of living and our humanity. It will change the way we think, the way we act and how we engage with those around us. The greatest irony being that a virus, which ranges in size from about 20 to 400 nanometres in diameter, is now starting to re-establish a new working order in our globalized world.

We are rightly hearing the positive and often stoic narratives of those seafarers who are staying onboard, keeping calm and carrying on, maintaining global supply lines and remaining at sea for the global common good. We sincerely thank them.

But what we are not hearing on any scale from within the maritime sector and some organizations, are the real details of the alternative reality and of the uncomfortable stories reflecting the consequences of those not fortunate enough to have support of the big commercial companies who are pushing this stoic messaging. Without this, we have an incomplete and less-than-transparent picture of what is occurring.

Undeniably, facts save lives and reduce suffering, but currently a potential fear of the facts is stymieing wider public awareness and therefore support to seafarers and their families, as well as highlighting need for critical support to front-line welfare organizations.

Questions must now be asked of whether is there a deliberate suppression of the facts and ground-truth, particularly for those seafarers who are not being currently employed but are in the crew management system, careless under-reporting, or just a convenient avoidance of the inconvenient truth behind the ongoing suffering of seafarers and their families during the COVID-19 crisis?

This is not a “bleeding-heart liberal” perspective, but the position from the other side of the commercial-civil society paradigm, like it or not.

It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis.

  from Storage Containers https://www.maritime-executive.com/article/covid-19-fact-suppression-or-careless-under-reporting via http://www.rssmix.com/

[hudsonespie]

COVID-19: Fact Suppression or Careless Under-reporting?

Human Rights at Sea CEO David Hammond shares his thoughts on recent evidence presented to the charitable NGO for what he says appears to be an unexplained under-reporting of the detail of the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic on seafarers and their families.

Hammond suggests that there is an unnecessary fear of telling the truth thereby potentially causing panic in what could be a long-haul. It is asserted that people would prefer being told the truth of their predicament, not to be shielded from it. “It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis,” says Hammond.

Editorial by David Hammond, CEO of Human Rights at Sea

Reporting for seven years without fear or favor, Human Rights at Sea continues to independently highlight the detailed plight of seafarers and fishers working at the front-end keeping our global supply chains open with food on our tables, goods delivered and raw materials for manufacturing industries flowing.

Rightly alongside our respective State emergency services, armed forces and frontline critical care workers, seafarers are our savors for those of us fortunate enough to receive goods delivered by sea during this COVID-19 pandemic.

Meantime, globally, there will be thousands of humans who will not be so lucky to receive such support. Let us not ignore them just because it may be a difficult consideration or far away from one’s own reality.

The high-levels of eventual casualties of COVID-19, besides those reported throughout Europe and China, will most likely be reflected in those living in the developing world, those trapped in immigration and asylum centers, those in need of UN feeding programs, those moving on global migratory routes fleeing wars, oppression, sexual servitude, slavery and trafficking and unaccompanied minors.

In better times, such casualties of circumstance may well have been the focus of corporate social responsibility programs enhancing commercial image and the “ticking of the social welfare box.”

For the maritime sector, such casualties may include crew (and passengers) who are asymptomatic with no reported symptoms but are still contagious, are unlucky enough to become ill ashore, or become ill in an enclosed vessel which is then prevented either temporarily or permanently from gaining port entry, or from obtaining timely-resupply of essential medical supplies and therefore essential succor. 

Arguably, it is not going to be too long before yellow flags are flown on commercial vessels denoting the ship is under quarantine; but who will report this publicly preventing it being hidden behind corporate or flag State veils? Who will track the consequences for those it affects?

The Current Narrative

What we are currently seeing portrayed through established media and social media outlets is an unbalanced advancing of the corporate “seafarers will not leave their posts” stoic narrative. But this is not balanced, nor is it entirely correct. Much is going on that is yet unreported.

Meantime, the current public narrative fails to address, in any detail, the very real hardships of the many seafarers who underpin commercial maritime development and its profit. This most probably relates to the inconvenient and uncomfortable truth of the current situation.

That said, not everyone in the industry is towing the party line.

On March 25, The New York Times issued a telling article “Trapped at Sea by Covid-19 Lockdowns, Crew Members Plead for Help” which was contributed to by numerous leading maritime industry figures, including Frank Coles, CEO of Hong Kong based Wallem Group, who previously has systematically challenged the maritime industry dystopian structures, as well as myself who was separately asked to provide evidence and access to seafarers suffering at the present time. At that time our NGO had been deluged with pleas for help, despite it not being a welfare organization.

Evidence and Transparency

By way of evidence of “bad examples,” below are some of the statements and information sent by seafarers who have contacted Human Rights at Sea, some in fear of their jobs and black-listing should they speak out. It should be noted that welfare organizations and unions must be in receipt of the same, though many times more.

• “I cannot disclose the company or ship name. I don’t know what action will be taken against me…they could have arranged sign off but they did not. Now there is no way to go home.”

• “Sir. Many of us completed our tenure but can’t go home due to lock down situation worldwide and in [our]home country. Moreover we are being sent for [to] highly affected EU countries. Panic is there onboard as well as at home. In this severe situation we would like to be with our families to support them. Company appreciated us for keeping up supply chain worldwide but who is going to take care of us and our family??”

• “I am stranded in Hotel since 4th March on Tunisia and you aware I came to join ship. I don’t know whether I will be able to join ship or come back to India which is ban till 14th April. How long will I pay hotel bills. I have to pay loan EMi and feed family. Company has not supported in this crisis as my contract is valid from day I  join the ship. Tunisia is ban till 4th April and may delay further. I don’t understand how long will seafarer will stay without salary and support families if no income.”

• “It’s not much fun being on a ship right now. There’s a serious lack of, one might say ‘essence’ among the crew. Lot of frightened people. Lot of people very worried about family, most of the offices are closed so logistic comes are a clusterfuck. This is a chance for the DPAs to shine. But so far nothing. I’d say 70% of the world’s fleet is approaching skeleton crew. Sure, it’s a global nightmare but it’s not what a lot of these signed for. Lots of folk expected their companies to look after them. Seems the demands on the fleet is getting greater with less logistic support less crew on board and less aggressive support. Having said that I can’t gripe my gang are all OK. Home and aboard, we’ve got some good banter going. Those guys in the article though that’s happened a lot and still happening. Really shitty.”

• “Internet connections shipboard. There’s usually a system for crew to have access to a messaging service through Wi-Fi evergreen use Whats app I think we use messenger or Viber I’m not sure. You are given or buy a data allowance. And can message whenever you like providing connection is good.  If that connection goes down the crew have little or no contact with family at home because if you read the WHO special requirements for ports it’s becoming more and more difficult to get local SIM cards.”

• “Sign off cancelled as travel restrictions imposed. Now crew change is impossible as no government will lift travel restrictions due to impact of coronavirus.”

• “This is really bad by the companies…we have not signed contract for this…we should have the say.”

• “I have a 3 months contract now I am already over 4 months on board, with most of the counties shutting down borders it looks [like we] Would be on board for a few months at least and even if can get off from the vessel might get stuck in some airport. Though the flights are shut but the ships are still going to corona infected areas like Spain and Italy, with insufficient disinfectants sanitisers and medical equipment.”

• “Only fear is in case someone gets corona on board it’s a closed environment would get transmitted to all on board. And in such a case for sure no country will allow the vessel in its ports. For now we are just checking daily temperature of all crew and people coming on board.”

• “As of now there is no communication from the office regarding my salary not being paid. What do we do?”

• “Because of heavy [expensive] port charges they won’t take us to [an] Indian port. But we are very worried about family because they need us bad.”

• “Sir, is there any possibility on policy changes for seafarers to get back to their family? It is very concerning.”

• “I had a new born baby after my joining here. I have to see him.”

News Suppression?

Let us be in no doubt that this pandemic is deadly.

It is a threat to our way of living and our humanity. It will change the way we think, the way we act and how we engage with those around us. The greatest irony being that a virus, which ranges in size from about 20 to 400 nanometres in diameter, is now starting to re-establish a new working order in our globalized world.

We are rightly hearing the positive and often stoic narratives of those seafarers who are staying onboard, keeping calm and carrying on, maintaining global supply lines and remaining at sea for the global common good. We sincerely thank them.

But what we are not hearing on any scale from within the maritime sector and some organizations, are the real details of the alternative reality and of the uncomfortable stories reflecting the consequences of those not fortunate enough to have support of the big commercial companies who are pushing this stoic messaging. Without this, we have an incomplete and less-than-transparent picture of what is occurring.

Undeniably, facts save lives and reduce suffering, but currently a potential fear of the facts is stymieing wider public awareness and therefore support to seafarers and their families, as well as highlighting need for critical support to front-line welfare organizations.

Questions must now be asked of whether is there a deliberate suppression of the facts and ground-truth, particularly for those seafarers who are not being currently employed but are in the crew management system, careless under-reporting, or just a convenient avoidance of the inconvenient truth behind the ongoing suffering of seafarers and their families during the COVID-19 crisis?

This is not a “bleeding-heart liberal” perspective, but the position from the other side of the commercial-civil society paradigm, like it or not.

It is now time to tell the whole truth, including the good, the bad and the ugly of the ramifications of COVID-19 on the silent heroes who will keep us supplied and alive in this unprecedented global crisis.

  from Storage Containers https://maritime-executive.com/article/covid-19-fact-suppression-or-careless-under-reporting via http://www.rssmix.com/