Category Archives: Essays and élucubrations

Sharing reflections, insights and observations, triggered by reading or by real life.

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Listening to the stories that my home tells me: Victoria Falls

Now in March/April 2020, the virus stopped me from being on the road. I am at home. After all, I am 65+…

My home tells me stories – I just have to listen: In my latest blog I have talked about the the Schefflera plant that reminds me of having climbed the Kilimanjaro with Ernst and the ebony wood bowls that remind me of the safaris in Tanzania.

Let me now talk about the story that this photo gallery in my guest room has to tell: In April/March 2008, Ernst and I visited the Victoria Falls, Botswana and Namibia.

This was a GORGEOUS journey.  I love to look at these photos. Let us start with the prolog and the Victoria Falls.

 

Prolog: Organizing the journey

Mid March 2008, Ernst has reserved flights to Africa: Frankfurt – Windhoek – Victoria Falls, then Maun – Windhoek, and Windhoek – Frankfurt. With a few leaflets from travel offices in his hands, Ernst mumbles: “Now we have the flights, would you be so  kind to fill the gaps?” Oh, yes, I will, wonderful!

I write to three travel offices in Botswana. Immediately, Susan from Phakawe answers. She offers a fly-in safari in Botswana and confirms that the lodges still have rooms available. I book her offer, pay on March 20th, but the money will only appear on her bank account in Botswana shortly before our departure on April 19th. The travel documents make it just in time. Susan cares for us sending various emails: “Take enough warm clothes, the nights are cold.” Or: “Do not take more than 20kgs of luggage, the bush airplanes are small.” Today, I do no longer find this excellent travel agency in the Internet. What a pity! The organization was perfect!

At Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, I book a luxury room (with partial view of the falls) in THE hotel, the Victoria Falls Hotel. We had debated, whether to go to Zimbabwe at all, as elections were going on, but a friend at work told me that usually the touristy area around the Victoria Falls remains quiet. He also recommended the Victoria Falls Hotel (he grew up Rhodesia).

In additon, I reserve a four wheel drive camper from Britz to tour through Namibia. Ernst buys a small Garmin and loads it with Tracks of Africa. He transfers all the tracks to a small laptop that I have acquired to make planning the routes easier and to write my diary. Now we are ready for our adventure.

 

Victoria Falls and the posh Victoria Falls Hotel

After a night flight on 19/20th April to Windhoek, then continuing to Maun and finally to Victoria Falls, we have our late afternoon tea in the posh Victoria Falls Hotel, built in 1904. I believe that I am daydreaming sitting under the colonial arcades, but it is true.

This is the view from the terrace to the falls and the railway bridge. As a matter of fact, there is no view of the falls as such. What we see, is just this spray rising and the railway bridge (built by the English in 1905).

The postcard showing the view of the falls from above makes it clear: The Zambesi – 1.7km large – falls into a ditch – about 100m deep. From the ditch, the river converges into a canyon that is crossed by the railway bridge. The Victoria Falls Hotel near the bridge gives the view of the spray, and this is, what they call “the view of the Victoria Falls”. This is somewhat unexpected for me, but nevertheless spectacular.

We have dinner at the Jungle Junction: The buffet with entries (antipasti, salad, soups, fish), main dishes (fish, meat, vegetables) and desserts is delicious.

The location of our hotel is very convenient: It is only a short foot-walk to the falls. After having paid the entry fee, we walk along the rim into the direction of the railway bridge.

It is all over wet from the spray – we put on our rain jackets… the locals are clever, they sell umbrellas at the entry gate (which we did not need, as we had our jackets).

Across the Devil Fall, 72 steps lead down into the ditch…

… where we can look at the falls from below.

The spray makes rainbows. Ernst and I start our (usual) discussion about what can be found at the point, where the rainbow touches the ground – is it a treasure chest (my idea) or a small bucket of gold (this is what Ernst has learnt from his mother) ;-)? The place seems to be so near… but we cannot check our hypotheses – too dangerous here.

After a siesta and some swimming in the hotel pool, we join the lions’ walk. We meet young lions (still dotted) that are raised to later move to a reservation area. We have mixed feelings about this tourist event.

At full moon, we enjoy the rich evening buffet at the Jungle Junction. We retreat to our luxury room with the “partial view of the falls” (the spray is partially hidden by a tree), enjoy the Belgian chocolate “Bettmümpfeli” (goodnight snack found on the pillow) and sleep well, looking forward to our safaris in Botswana and Namibia.

In the early morning, I take this last photo from the Victoria Falls spray sparkling in the rising sun.

After the rich breakfast buffet at the Jungle Junction, we are picked up by Wild Horizon. Our target today: Cross the border to Botswana and get to the Chobe River Front Lodge.

 

Some geological background information about the Victoria Falls

Brett Hilton-Barber and Lee R. Berger(2010) explain the geology behind the Victoria Falls. In a nutshell, this is, what I understood: There is a volcanic basalt layer here, about 300m thick, that cracked, when ancient Gondwanaland broke up. A series of giant cracks emerged – north-south and east-west. It is a grid of cracks. The cracks were filled with (softer) sediments. Later central Zimbabwe was lifted up and a large lake appeared. At that time, the Zambesi river flew into the Limpopo river system that has its source in nowadays Botswana. More tectonic movements lead the Zambesi river to change its flow to directly reach the Indian Ocean. The Zambesi now crossed the basalt area with the grid of cracks and created the first Victoria Falls at the end. By eroding the sediments, the falls wandered upstream forming five falls over time. The existing fall is the fifth fall, the authors say. After this fifth fall, the Zambesi zigzags through the system of gorges that it has carved into the grid of cracks. Thank you for this explanation.

 

Sources: Paula Hardy et alii, “Botswana & Namibia”, Lonely Planet 2007; Daniela Schetar et alii, “Namibia”, Reise Know-How, Markgröningen 2007; Duncan Butchart, “Wildlife of the Okavango, Struik Nature 2000; my own travel report, “Südwestafrika – Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia”.

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Listening to the stories that my home tells me: Safari in Tanzania

Now in March/April 2020, the virus stopped me from being on the road. I am at home. After all, I am 65+…

My home tells me stories – I just have to listen: In my latest blog I have talked about the the Schefflera plant that reminds me of having climbed the Kilimanjaro with Ernst.

Let me continue with the Kilimanjaro tour of February 2006 that was topped off with two safaris. These bowls remind me of them. They are made from ebony wood. I often use them, when serving apéro snacks to guests. And I love to have guests – I hope that will be possible sometimes soon again.

Let me tell you about the first two Africa safaris I have experienced in my life.

 

After the ascent to the Kilimanjaro we recover visiting the Ngorongoro Crater and the Tarangire Park

These are the destinations we visited in Tanzania in February 2006: After having climbed the Kilimanjaro, we visit the Ngorongoro Crater and the Tarangire Park.

Source: Google Maps

 

Ngorongoro Crater – we sit in the cage (the safari car) and are surrounded by so many animals

The Ngorongoro Crater is a collapsed volcano in the Ngorongoro Conservation Area. The crater or caldera is at 1700m, 400-600m deep and 17×20 km large.

We stay at the Ngorongoro Wildlife Lodge at the rim of the crater and look north to the Lake Makat and to the Olmoti mountains, if I get that right from the guidebook we have bought.

The handsome and tall Maasai (about 50’000) share the Ngorongoro Conservation Area with the animals. The crater as such is reserved for the animals.

We enter the crater in our safari car. Our driver is called Jahaia.

When I notice the first zebras, I am so happy – my first wildlife experience! I want to take a photo… but Jahaia – he does everything for his guests – shakes his head: “I am not going to stop for a few zebras.” Hm, yes, he is right, we see many more zebras in the crater. We wonder, whether they are “white with black stripes” or “black with white stripes”. Jahaia solves the question: “Look, their noses are black, therefore zebras are black and have white stripes.” Okay, right, the noses are black, this is a way of looking at it.

Very soon we reach a wildlife traffic jam (we are at the Lerai Forest now): About six safari cars have stopped and the binoculars of the tourists are directed towards some dead wood under the trees. I hear that a rhino is resting in the dead wood. “Yes, there it is, I can see it!” voices say around me. Hm, I cannot see any rhino. But then a vivid monkey jumps into the dead wood and disturbs the “siesta” of the rhino. It stands up and leaves the dead wood. Angrily it drops a few large pieces of brown dung, paws them away and moves on majestically.

Our driver is happy to have shown this rhino to us… we will not see another rhino on our two safaris. At the time, about 15 black rhinos  (Spitzmaulnashörner) still live in the crater (in 1965 there were about 100 of them). The rhinos are being protected carefully and my guidebook warns: “do not disturb rhinos… You can be fined… for doing so” (p. 37). Well – I asume, the cheeky monkey will not be fined and we are happy that it has disturbed “our” rhino.

We continue our tour and see gnus that graze not far away from two lions resting in the shade.

One female lion is desperately looking for shade and finds it under the car of our friends.

The buffalo looks frightening with these huge horns.

The warthogs love the mud – they have a special charm.

The marabou stork belongs to the family of storks (as the English name indicates). It looks peculiar to us with its short legs, the compact body, the huge pink sac and the bold head. It is a scavenger that lives from dead animals.

Wildlife is abundant in the crater; Elephants, hippos (at the hippo pool), various kinds of antelopes and gazelles, a gepard and a variety of birds such as eagles, vultures, flamingos, ducks, geese, storks, ibis, egrets, herons, kites (“Milane” in German), just no giraffes (too steep for them to get down to the crater). I have the feeling, I am in a zoo, whereby WE are in the cage and the animals walk around freely; they may look at us, strange creatures that humans are in those strange cages that safari cars are…

While taking a good-bye photo of the Ngorongoro crater, I am told by the more experienced Africa travellers that I should not expect to always see that many animals in Africa.

The Ngorongoro Conservation Area is part of an ecosystem of crater highlands at the border of the Serengeti National Park which reminds me of Bernhard and Michael Grzimek and their film “Die Serengeti darf nicht sterben” (Serengeti shall not die, 1959). The Grzimeks and their films were very present, when I was a child. Yes, I agree, the Serengeti shall not die. The Ngorongoro Crater is has been an overwhelming experience (see my post scriptum about the Grzimeks and their successors).

 

Tarangire National Park

The Tarangire National Park stretches along the river Tarangire. We live in luxurious tents with a sleeping room, a bath room and an outside sitting area bordering the river. Our tent has just a small problem: The zippers of the “doors” to the bathroom and to the sitting area do not glide well – they always get stuck. Ernst, my engineer, gives his best to open and close them (he is so kind to take over this task, because it needs a lot of patience which is not exactly one of my strengths). On the last day, even Ernst can no longer open the zipper and we crawl out of the tent. Nevertheless it is wonderful to fall asleep in the tent with all the noise of the jungle around us and to wake up with all that noise in the morning. From the sitting area in front of our tent we can watch elephants and giraffes drink water in the river.

Though the animals are not as close to one another as in the Ngorongoro Crater, we see a lot of them: Lions,…

… elephants, …

… more elephants, …

… giraffes – this one keeps the overview -, …

… more giraffes, …

… and another giraffe waving its tail, …

… baboon monkeys, …

… and impala.

In addition Jahaia can show us a leopard sitting high up on the branch of a tree. And again we enjoy the rich bird life.

Near a large baobab we get out of the car. The baobab reminds me of Saint Exupéry: Le Petit Prince said that, on his small Asteroide 612, he would root out each of the Baobab germ buds carefully, as a large baobab tree would make his asteroide explode.

When leaving the Tarangire Park, we stop at a souvenir shop. This is where I buy the bowls for the snacks that I have included to start this blog about our safaris.

 

Chale Island – just relaxing 

We round off our tour to Africa by relaxing on Chale island in Nairobi. Looking up Chale Island in the internet, I find that it must have been refurbished since our staying there in 2006.

In 2006, the hotel offers tents and in addition two penthouses. After the experience with the zippers in the tent of the Tarangire Park, Ernst wants to stay in the penthouse. Okay for me, as he wants that so clearly. And we find a place like a fairy tale: A large living room, a large sleeping room with a canopy bed, a huge balcony and even a second floor with more beds. On the canopy bed there are three cushions, two normal ones and in the middle a pink cushion shaped like a heart. Wonderful. When going to sleep, we remove the heart shaped cushion in the middle, it is in the way…

For two days, our program now comprises activities such as eating, resting, reading, swimming, taking a mud-bath, drinking tea with our friends on the balcony of our penthouse – solving the problem of the 36 legs of dancing elephants and ostriches – how many elephants and how many ostriches? Solution: 6 elephants and 6 ostriches.

We walk along the coast line, where we can see that this island is a cliff that rose from the sea.

On Monday, 27th of February 2006 we return home. On our flight, we can see the Kilimanjaro from above. When we arrive in Zurich, we find Switzerland covered with snow – it is winter and it is cold at home.

Thank you, Hans-Ueli und Lise, for having invited us to join you and your family in Africa.

 

Post Scriptum: The pandemic may endanger financing the preservation of the Serengeti and other wildlife refugees in Africa

When thinking about father and son Grzimek and googling their film, I find “die Serengeti darf nicht sterben – die Erben“. It is about the Swiss Markus Borner that continued the project of the Grzimeks for the Zoogesellschaft Frankfurt, assisted by his son Felix. Markus Borner saw Grzimek at the television, when he was a child (as I did). Markus Borner then worked for the Serengeti for more than 30 years and retired in 2017. I am impressed by the film of the Borners, in particular, when they follow the migrating gnu herds in their plane. The Serengeti is an ecosystem, where one and a half million (!) Gnus migrate, as they follow water and food – and the predators follow them. Now climate change endangers this ecosystem. As the rain tracks are shifting, the animals looking for water are colliding with civilization – however, the Borners found ways to vaccinate the population and their animals against rabies that are a danger for the wild animals.

On top of the climate changes, the tourists do no longer come due to the virus and, I believe that endangers the financing of the indispensable infrastructure for the Serengeti and other wildlife refugees (just think of prohibiting poaching!)… I do hope, we will overcome this virus such that tourists return to the Serengeti. It is not only about us people and the economy… it is about much more that is in danger – it is our planet with the last ecologic reserves such as he Serengeti! We have to preserve the Serengeti and the wild life refugees of Africa for the next generations, following the Grzimeks and the Borners – both father and son.

Sources: Jeanette Hanby and David Bygott, “Ngorongoro Conservation Area”, A Kibuyu guidebook, Regal Press 2004; Mary Fitzpatrick, “Tanzania”, Lonely Planet 2002.

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Listening to the stories that my home tells me: The Schefflera and the Kilimanjaro

Now in March/April 2020, the virus stopped me from being on the road. I am at home. After all, I am 65+ and I feel, this is required for solidarity.

My home tells me stories – I just have to listen: The furniture in my office is of my great grandfather – a teacher at the grammar school and the university of Basel. The dining table reminds me of my father’s mother – I called her “Omi”. All over are the paintings of my mother’s father – he was an artist and he made some beautiful portraits of his wife, my second grand-mother. There are woodcuts of my mother (being the daughter of an artist) and some souvenirs that she brought home from her journeys. The photo gallery in my guest room and the huge Schefflera plant allow me to travel to Africa with Ernst, my husband. And much more. My home is full of stories and I will now pick up some of them.

 

The Schefflera and the plush monkey in my living room tell about our ascent to the Kilimanjaro

Let me start with the story that this Schefflera…

… with the small plush monkey has to tell us.

On March 6th 2006, the Schefflera (Fingeraralie) was my birthday gift for Ernst, my husband. The monkey was one of the plush animals that I had played with as a child. I gave the Schefflera with the plush monkey to Ernst as a souvenir of the ascent to the Kilimanjaro that we had just completed, in February 2006. We had seen Schefflera plants there and we had also observed mantled guereza monkeys (Mantelaffe) wearing a white “coat” and a white tail tuft; they are vivid animals jumping from branch to branch and difficult to capture.

My (much used) brown plush monkey is a very, very rough approximation of the guereza monkeys, and Ernst liked my idea.

Now that Ernst has become a star guarding over me, the Schefflera in my living room still reminds me of our Kilimanjaro adventures in Tanzania.

 

How the idea of the Kilimanjaro came up

Ernst’s best friend had already climbed the Kilimanjaro 30 years ago, when he was almost 30 years old. Now soon about to complete 60 years, he wanted to go back, and he invited his family and close friends to join him. Ernst asked me, what I would think of climbing the Kilimanjaro. I was all for it! This mountain had been a dream of mine, since having listened to the song of Jean-Claude Pascal, “les neiges du Kilimanjaro” (I was a teenager then).

 

Yes, we made it to the Uhuru peak of the Kilimanjaro – on the so-called Coca-Cola trail

We made it to the top, the Uhuru peak, at 5895m. The whole group, about 15 participants. Here I am with Ernst. It was around 8:30 in the morning, and it was cold.

 

Walking up “pole, pole” is the secret for reaching the top across the vegetation zones

We have booked our tour with Aktivferien AG that hires local guides, porters and cooks to take us up. The local guides permanently warn us to advance “pole, pole” which means “slowly, slowly” in Kisuaheli. We were the slowest of all the groups, already, when leaving Marangu at 1800m.

We walk through the tropical rain forest first…

… and then reach the giant heather about half an hour before arriving at the Mandara hut. The  heather is covered by bearded lichen.

The heather plants are huge and I feel like Hänschen in the empire of the Blueberry Man – a book that I loved as a child (“Hänschen im Blaubeerenland”).

It is 900ms up from Marangu to the Manadara hut on 2700m (called after Mandara, a local chieftain in the late 19th century, known for being a tough warrior and for taking gifts from the early explorers of that time).

On the second day, we walk in the moorland above the tree level. Outstanding are Lobelia (deckenii) and Senecio (kilimanjaro or giant groundsel). This is the Senecio plant.

We reach the Horombo hut at 3650m altitude. This complex of huts was called “Petershütte” before, and yes, a distant ancestor of mine, Dr. Carl Peters, has founded the colony of Ostafrika/East Africa which is about Tansania today. I have mixed feelings about my ancestor, because I cannot not agree with his ruthless attitude towards the indigenous population.

We stay in the Horombo-Peters hut for two nights. To adapt to the altitude, we walk to the saddle separating the Kibo mountain from its “partner”, in the east, the Mawenzi, which is a volcano that is no longer active. Its name means “the dark mountain” in Kisuaheli.

We look at the path leading from the Kibo hut to the crater rim (Gillman’s point) which we will climb up in two days from now.

The way from the Horombo hut at 3650m to the Kibo hut at 4750m takes us through barren terrain and the water supply ends on the way. No water above this point. Our porters tank water here.

Our night in the Kibo hut is very short. We get up at eleven pm and at midnight, we start to walk up along the winded path to the crater rim, “pole, pole” – zig-zag, zig-zag, zig-zag – endlessly. At the beginning, we are overtaken by others, but then the other groups sit down more and more and we overtake them, pole – pole. The local guides take care of each of us, even carrying some of our rucksacks. They do a great job motivating us to continue. At 5200m we reach the Meyer’s cave, named after Hans Meyer who was the first to reach the top of the Kilimanjaro in 1889; he called the highest point after Emperor William II of Germany (it is now called Uhuru peak, uhuru=freedom). Hans Meyer picked a stone from the very top, brought it home to Germany and gave half of it to his emperor William II. The emperor integrated this stone in the decoration of Das Neue Palais in the Sansouci castle and park complex in Potsdam – here it is.

At about six o’clock, we have reached the crater rim, signposted “Gillman’s Point” (5685m). Less than 1000m ascent in six hours, this is my record in “slowness”. That WAS “pole, pole”. It is very cold. I use my red rain cape as a “tent” insulating me from the cold temperatures and warming me up. Then I hand the cape on. After a rest, we tackle the last 200m along the rim to the Uhuru peak, the highest point of the Kilimanjaro or Kibo.

At the top, we share the birthday cake – after all this ascent to the Kilimanjaro was the birthday wish of Ernst’s friend. It is around 8:30. About half an hour later, we start our descent. The idea is to get back to  “more human” altitudes as fast as possible. The couloir that we had zig-zagged up before is full of ash and we can glide down on it like on snow. From the Kibo hut, we continue our way down to the Horombo hut, where we stay overnight. The next day, we take an early start at six in the morning to walk down to Marangu, where we are invited to church in the early afternoon. Ernst sighed: “Nie han i so frie uffschtah miesse für z’Predigt z’go” – “Never have I had to get up so early to go to church.”

Marangu – Mandara hut – Horombo hut – Kibo hut – Uhuru peak – this was our route up to the Kilimanjaro, and because this seems to be the most comfortable route (with all the huts on the way), it is called Coca Cola trail. But – the altitude is nevertheless a challenge, and from the Kibo hut, we were the only group that made it to the top. The last ascent to the Uhuru peak IS demanding, also on this trail.

 

At the church – the safari service and the banquet

After having gotten up so early this morning to run down from the Horombo hut to Marangu, we make it in time to the church.

The church bell rings for us. The priest talks about the Israelites returning from Egypt to their homeland, just as we have safely returned from our tour (or safari) to the Kilimanjaro. After the service, we are invited to a delicious banquet with the highlight being a roasted goat. The Lutheran faith of the community shows that the Germans have evangelized Tanzania – the first missionary was Johannes Rebmann in the middle of the 19th century.

 

Good-bye guides, porters and cooks and good-bye Kilimanjaro, you are large mountain giving life, but also being a potential danger 

After our descent, we say good-bye to the guides, the porters and the cooks that have cared for us. Together, we sing the Kilimanjaro song:

” Kilimanjaro, Kilimanjaro, Kilimanjaro,
Kilimanjaro -mlima mrefu sana
Na Mawenzi, na Mawenzi, na Mawenzi,
na Mawenzi – mlima mrefu sana
Ewe nyoka – ewe nyoka, ewe nyoka,
ewe nyoka – mbona wanizungukaa
Wanizungukaa, wanizungukaa, wanizungukaa;
wanizungukaa – wataka kunila nyama”

The words say:

“Kilimanjaro…  is a very high mountain,
and Mawenzi… is a very high mountain.
You snake…, why do you surround me.
You want to eat my flesh”.

The people living around the Kilimanjaro are aware of the fact that this volcano is resting and could explode one day destroying all the life around it that now benefits from the fertile volcanic ground and the mountain as an obstacle in the landscape generating rain. It is very probable that a lava plug is lurking under the convexely shaped mountain.

On the next day, we drive to the Ngorongoro Crater. We look back to the Kilimanjaro with its white coat or “blanc manteau”, as Jean-Claude Pascal sung in the 1960-s.

Now our wild-life safari adventure starts; we will see animals such as zebras, gnus, elefants, giraffes, lions, antilopes, warthogs, marabus and even a rhinoceros.

 

Sources: P. Werner Lange, “Kilimandscharo – der weisse Berg Afrikas”, AS Verlag Zürich 2005; Henry Stedman, “Kilimanjaro – a trekking guide to Africa’s highest mountain”, Trailblazer Publications 2003.

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Back to Catalonia (Hospitalet), with two stops in the mountains

On Saturday, May 19th, we drive from Zaragoza through the mountains to Hospitalet de l’Infant, south of Tarragona in Catalonia. On the way, we stop in Alcañiz and Horta de San Joan.

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Alcañiz – domicile of the Calatrava order (still in Aragón)

We follow the road to Morella up to Alcañiz. Here we maneuver our Audi through narrow-narrow streets, find the last parking slot near the city wall and walk to the  Iglesia de Santa Maria Mayor – baroque  from the 18th century – where we have a café solo.

We do not find the way out of the small town and land on top with its castle (now a parador) and this gorgeous view. This was the domicile of the order of the Calatrava.

Does our famous architect Calatrava have a relation with this order?

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Culture and lunch break in Horta de San Joan (now in Catalonia)

Horta de San Joan is a pretty small town in the mountains El Ports. Young Picasso was here twice, once as a teenager, when he stayed with the family of a friend of his and about ten years later again. This quote in Catalonian says: “Everything that I know, I have learnt at Horta”.

We visit the museum that tells the story of Picasso and Horta de San Joan. All the places that he painted are documented with photos. When he was here the first time, he recovered from an illness. And when he was here for the second time, he is said to have started his cubist way of painting.

Horta de San Joan also appears in literature. Perucho in his “Las historias naturales” described, how the scientist Montpalau (an invented figure) visited Horta de San Joan, when looking for the vampire Dip that terrorized the area in the first Carlist War, in 1840 (p. 164f): “Días más tarde… nuestras caballeros… abandaron Gandesa, en busca de la pista sangrante del vampiro… En Horta de San Juan visitaron la Plaza gótica porticada…

… y el convento de San Salvador…

… El aíre era muy frío y tuvieron que abrocharse hasta el último botón de la levita…El paisaje había cambiado ahora: Salvaje, grandioso, y como telón de fondo las altas montañas del Maestrazgo…”

(Some days later, our men left Gandesa, looking for the bloody track of the vampire… in Horta San Joan they visited the gothic square with the arches… the monastery of San Salvador… The air was very cold and they had to close their jackets up to the last button… The landscape had changed now: Wild, magnificent, and in the background the high mountains of the Maestrazgo…).

We do what  Perucho’s Montpalau has done… we visit the gothic square, enjoy the view of the wild mountains and the monastery and stroll through the narrow streets…

… adorned with Amaryllis…

… and barked at by cute little dogs,…

… until we lose our way and in the maze of streets and end up in front of this door. It is the restaurant “Gran Parrado”. It is one o’clock and we are hungry.

All tables are taken… the friendly manager offers a table in the bar. Lucky we are. We have a delicious lunch. This is the first course, cannelloni (yes, the Catalonians picked that up in Italy) and codfish salad. My second course is oxtail in chocolate sauce – very tasty. For dessert we choose fresh goat cheese with honey – a marvellous Catalonian specialty.

The host has a small wine cellar that he is proud of. Already Perucho’s Montpalau praised the wines from Terra Alta: “Se consumieron grandes bocoyes de vino de lágrima, finísimo al paladar…” (we drank large glasses of Lagrima wine, very fine in the palate”), p.163. I buy two bottles, one of them produced in Horta de San Joan (Els Costums made from Granatxa negra).

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Back at Hospitalet in the apartment of or friends

About one hour later, we are in Hospitalet. The full moon welcomes us.

Two quiet weeks are ahead of us. Reading, swimming, going for excursions and enjoying the Mediterranean.

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Looking back at our tour that we have completed in Northern Spain

Our route through Northern Spain started with a short break in Donzenac in France and then continued to

  • Hondarribia (with excursions to Bayonne, Biaritz, St-Jean-de-Luz and Hendaye as well as San Sebastián)
  • Bilbao (visiting Getaria on the way)
  • Santillana del Mar (with excursions to Altamira, Comillas, Bárçena Mayor and the origin of the Ebro, Cabrales)
  • Oviedo (visiting Covadonga on the way)
  • León
  • Zamora (visiting Benavente on the way, excursions to El Campillo and Toro)
  • Santo Domingo de Silos (visiting Peñafiel on the way)
  • Zaragoza (or Sarragossa)
  • Back to Catalonia (visiting Alcañiz and Horta de San Joan on the way)

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Exploring Morella with Perucho in mind

In November 2018 we spend three weeks not far from Tarragona.

After having crossed the mountains of the Maestrazgo with Perucho in mind, I now continue with Morella, also with Perucho in mind. 

Let us quickly recapitulate, what happened in the Maestrazgo and in Morella in Perucho’s novel “Las historias naturales”(see separate blog): In 1840, during the first Carlist War, the protagonist, liberal Antonio de Montpalau traverses the mountains of the Maestrazgo in search of the vampire, alias El Mochuelo, alias Onofro de Dip de Pratdip. Montpalau and his followers are captured by the conservative Carlist troups and taken to Morella, where the general of the Carlists, Ramón Cabrera, has his headquarter. Cabrera had been bitten by the vampire. Later Cabrera with his troups leaves Morella for Berga, where Montpalau will help Cabrera escape from the gloomy fate of becoming a vampire.

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Morella – this eagle’s nest could well be the castle of King Arthur

We descend from Port de Torre Miró. Approaching Morella from the north, we see the medieval city towered by the castle. Actually, the whole City, with the walls surrounding it, might be part of the castle.

It looks like the nest of an eagle, as Perucho writes: “el escarpado nido de águilas realista” (p. 172, at that time occupied by the royal (realista) Carlists). Like Perucho, I could imagine King Arthur having resided here (p.181): “Llegando por la carretera de Monroyo…, uno cree estar ante de una de aquellas ciudades del Rey Arturo y de los caballeros de la Tabla Redonda, adecuadísima para albergar el Santo Grial”. (Arriving on the road from Monroyo…, one thinks to stand in front of one of those cities of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table, well suited to keep the Holy Grail). Furthermore, Perucho compares Morella to Mont Saint Michel in France, just without the sea around it.

We park our car along the town wall and stroll through the narrow, cobbled streets. “Morella tiene mucho carácter,” Perucho says (p. 178, Morella has much character). It was an important city connecting the Ebro valley and the coastal planes around Valencia.

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Strolling through the medieval city with its palaces

The strategic position of Morella is reflected in numerous palaces. The palace of the Cardinal Ram (built in the 15th century) is now a hotel.

Another Gothic palace has belonged to the Marquès de Cruilles.

Next door is the Casa Rovira. In 1414, Vincent Ferrer, a famous Dominican friar and preacher from Valencia, stayed in this house on his way to meet the antipope Benedict XIII and the Spanish king Ferdinand I (Vincent wanted to convince the antipope to abdicate, in which he did not succeed). The hosts of the Casa Rovira agreed that for Vincent they would prepare a meal made out of the best they owned which was their son. When being served the meal, Vincent understood, what had happened, did not eat, but revived the son successfully – the boy now lacked only one finger, because the mother had tried the meal before serving it. Vincent Ferrer later became Sant Vincent. Legend mixed with reality, explained on these ceramic tiles.  

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The church of Santa Maria la Mayor – also valued by Perucho

Now I look forward to seeing the famous apostle portal of the Gothic church Santa Maria La Mayor (built around 1300). Here it is, hidden because of renovation. Bad luck.

Next to it, the virgin’s gate is still waiting for renovation.

Perucho’s description of this church is very much to the point (p. 182): “La cathedral es una joya de piedra profusamente esculpida y con un coro construido de manera ingeniosa, en medio de la nave” (the cathedral is a jewel made out of stone lavishly sculptured and with a choir constructed in an ingenious manner, in the middle of the nave).

This is the ingeniously constructed choir elevated in the middle of the nave and decorated with the representation of the Last Judgment. 

Spiral stairs with magnificent sculptures explaining the life of Jesus are leading up to the Choir.

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The Convento San Francesco with its Danse Macabre

Above the cathedral we buy tickets for the Convento de San Francesc, now in ruins. This is the Gothic cloister.

We admire the Danse Macabre. Every one will be the victim of godfather death – and they are all sitting on this tree. 

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Climbing up to the castle with Cabrera in mind

High above the Convento San Francesc is the castle. The access is in the cloister. This is the castle seen through one of the arches of the cloister.

“Who is this man?” a family father asks, “ah, hm, Ramón Cabrera, okay”, and he makes selfies of Cabrera with his children and his wife. Yes, Ramón Cabrera, the Carlist leader, has the honour to greet visitors of the castle still today. The castle was his headquarter in the First Carlist War. Cabrera had the title “Count of Morella” and his surname was “the Tiger of the Maestrazgo”.

Walking up to the castle I notice that there is no direct way up. I have to go around the rock, until I reach these steep stairs with high steps. A young man approaching the top of these stairs sighs “Madre!” Come on, you are much younger than I am…

From the top of the castle I enjoy the gorgeous view. It is almost impossible to approach Morella without being noticed from here. And with the clever system of defensive walls protecting the castle on top of the steep rock, it seems almost unconquerable.

I can well imagine, how Cabrera and Montpalau sat on one of the terraces of the castle and had a coffee, with the magic view of the stone city at their feet: “Una tarde, mientras tomaban un café en una de las terrazas del castillo, con el mágico visto de la ciudad de piedras a sus pies, …” (p. 183).

Not much later after that coffee break, Cabrera left Morella with most of his troops to retreat north to Berga. They did so early in the morning. It was very cold then and they intended to reach the warmer Ebro valley as quickly as possible. “Cabrera y el ejército emprendieron la marcha al rayar el alba. Hacía un frío que pelaba, y la tropa… llevaba tapabocas. El Maestrazgo era una región terrible y necesitaban llegar a la cálida ribereña lo más pronto posible.” (p. 190). My guidebook says that temperatures in winter can feel as low as minus 20 degrees centogrades, as wind and frost are cumulating.

Soon after Cabrera had left Morella, Baldomero Espartero (who fought for the cause of Queen Isabel II) conquered the castle and elevated the conservative flag of the Queen on the castle.

Zooming I can see the medieval aqueduct from the 14th century that up to the 19th century provided Morella with water from the near mountains. I believe that I see a ditch behind the aqueduct.

Now I understand, what Prince Lichnowsky experienced here, as described by Perucho. Lichnowsky was a nobleman from the Prussian Army that fought for the Carlists and Ramón Cabrera in the First Carlist War. Lichnowsky did not know that Espartero had taken over Morella in the meantime. He wanted to warn Cabrera of spies believing that Cabrera still resided in Morella. Lichnowsky approached the gate near the aqueduct. He noticed that he was received in a hostile manner. He retreated to one of the arches of the aqueduct. From here, he looked up and noticed the enemy’s flag wave on the castle. He understood, Espartero has conquered Morella and he, Lichnowsky, has to escape. He turned around, crossed the ditch to his right and disappeared towards Catalonia. (“El príncipe Lichnowsky… montó al caballo… y, a trote ligero, se dirigió a Morella… después de pasar bajo un arco del acueducto, llevaba, derecho, a la maciza puerta fortificida… Súbitamente vio como saltaban minúsculas salpicaduras de tierra a su alrededor… Oía las detonaciones agrias, … hacía dar la vuelta a su caballo. Encontró protección de uno de los pilares del acueducto, mientras una bala rebotaba contra la piedra, a un palmo de su cabeza. Entonces con mucho cuidado, miró hacia arriba. En la torre del castillo ondeaba la bandera de la reina… ¡Dio mío! Qué había pasado?… Lo urgente era escapar,… A la derecha se abría una barranca medio cubierto con matas de brezo florido. Espoleó a su caballo. El salto fue a la desesperada, cerrando los ojos y mientras sentía a la Muerte a su espalda… El Principe huía como un gamo hacia tierras de Catalunña…” (p. 229)).

This is the gate closest to the aqueduct (seen from inside the city) that gave the unfriendly welcome to the Prince Lichnowsky.  

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Wrapping up the visit of Morella

After having visited the castle, we walk back through the city…

… and evaluate the woven blankets with the typical pattern of Morella.

All blankets that we looked at, were made out of synthetic fiber containing some 10 or 20% of pure wool. Not what we had expected. We buy some sweet specialties instead, flaons and mantecados.

We stop at the beautiful townhall dating from the 15th century.

Inside the courtyard we find some giants (used at Corpus Christi) and a film of the Sexenni that the town celebrates every six years to commemorate the end of the plague in 1672.

We return to the town wall to pick up our car. We notice a heavy fine behind our wiper for having parked where only those authorised are allowed to, not foreigners like us. On this busy Saturday with many cars parked all over, we had not noticed the prohibition sign… but we find it okay to leave some money to support the ongoing renovation in this charming town.

In the evening we unpack our souvenirs, the flaons and the mantecados.

The sweets accompany our afternoon coffee times. From our selection of sweets, our favourites the larger mantecados with the almond in the middle.

Yes, Morella is worth a visit.

 

Sources:

David Navarro: “Morello”, Reihe Tourismus Spanien, Fisa Escudo de Oro.

Juan Perucho: “Las Historias Naturales”, Hurope, Barcelona 2003.

Morella in Wikipedia and tourist home site of Morella

 

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The Maestrazgo: On the way to Morella with Perucho in mind

In November 2018 we spend three weeks not far from Tarragona.  

Having read “Las historias naturales” by Juan Perucho, I wanted to cross the mountains of the Maestrazgo and visit Morella.

Let us quickly recapitulate, what happened in the Maestrazgo and in Morella in Perucho’s novel “Las historias naturales”(see separate blog): In 1840, during the first Carlist War, the protagonist, liberal Antonio de Montpalau traverses the mountains of the Maestrazgo in search of the vampire, alias El Mochuelo, alias Onofro de Dip de Pratdip. Montpalau and his followers are captured by the conservative Carlist troups and taken to Morella, where the general of the Carlists, Ramón Cabrera, has his headquarter. Cabrera had been bitten by the vampire. Later Cabrera with his troups leaves Morella for Berga, where Montpalau will help Cabrera escape from the gloomy fate of becoming a vampire.

Now, let us follow the tracks of Perucho and Montpalau by crossing the Maestrazgo on the way to Morella.

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Our routes to Morella crossing the Maestrazgo mountains

Montpalau crossed the Maestrazgo mountains coming from Horta San Juan and Valderrobres (just outside the map above, see the dotted red line). We traversed them farther south starting at Tortosa (continuous red line leading to Morella).

Source: Street map Michelin “España Noreste”

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Approaching the Maestrazgo mountains

This is, how Montpalau approached the Maestrazgo (p. 164): “En Horta de San Juan visitaron la plaza gótica porticada y el Convento de San Salvador… el aire era muy frío y tuvieron que abrocharse hasta el último botón de la levita. El paisaje había cambiado ahora; salvaje, grandioso y como telón de fondo, las altas montañas del Maestrazgo.” (In Horta de San Juan we visited the gothic main square and the monastery San Salvador… the air was very cold and they had to close their frock coats up to the last button. The landscape has now changed; wild and grand and with, in the background, the high mountains of the Maestrazgo).

We, however, ascend to the Maestrazgo mountains via Más de Barbera where we have a wonderful view of the Montsia mountains and of the Galera plane with its utterly tidy olive groves.

We take a coffee in the Lo Racò that would make a good stop for eating, recommended in Tripadvisor. Nearby we find a signboard that lays out enticing hiking paths.

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The Maestrazgo mountains – fresh pristine air and wild barren landscape

We continue ascending to the village La Senia where we reach the Maestrazgo mountains. The road becomes narrow curving through wild rocks.

 

The Cistercian monastery Benifassà is closed and opens on Thursdays from one to three p.m., just two hours per week, not more. Very secluded.

The village of Benifassà looks like an aery – a nest for eagles – in a barren landscape.

 

The road winds up and down along a rocky mountain ridge. We are on about 1000m above sea level.  

We agree with Perucho and Montpalau (p. 165) “Era un paisaje de maravilla. A media que se ascendían se renovaba el aire, se hacía más puro, y un perfume salvaje de bosque y de animal en libertad se mezclaban curiosamente… Pasaron por debajo de grandes cascadas de agua ensorcedoras…; descubrieron cuevas… enormes… En verdad, el Maestrazgo era una tierra muy extraña y sorprendente…” (It was a marvellous landscape. As they climbed higher and higher, the air refreshed, became more pristine, and a perfume of wild forest and animal in freedom mixed up strangely… they passed under large and ear-deafening waterfalls; they discovered big caves… as a matter of fact the Maestrazgo was a strange and surprising area).

We reach a barren high plateau with some lonely farms dispersed on meagre meadows. Ever once in a while we see some cows, some sheep, some goats. We are alone here – like Montpalau and his friends in Perucho’s novel (p. 165): “Desde que se hallaban en el Maestrazgo no habían visto a nadie. Se acercaba el puesto del sol. Vieron una masía, medio abandonada… Decidieron de pasar la noche en la triste masía… “ (Since they had arrived in the Maestrazgo, they had not seen anyone. The sun was about to set. They saw a farm, half abandoned… They decided to stay in the desolate farm for the night…).

The next day, Montpalau and his followers succeeded to escape giant fleas that were attacking them… their weapons were branches of pine trees that they ignited and carried like torches. Very fancy… but perhaps… why not… I could almost imagine giant fleas jumping around us in this wild landscape and if they came, thanks to Montpalau, I would know, how to fight them – with ignited branches of pine trees..

After more than two hours on narrow roads, we reach the Port de Torre Miró. We are now above the valley of Morella and enjoy the gigantic windmills and the view together with other tourists. We are no longer alone.

Mountains around us. Ursula captures them with a panoramic view.

 

We continue our way to Morella – and I will talk about this small and fortified in my next blog.

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Source:

Juan Perucho: “Las Historias Naturales”, Hurope, Barcelona 2003.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Pratdip (Catalonia) and Perucho’s natural history of the vampire Dip

Again and again we traveled to Catalonia, south of Tarragona. Again and again we noticed the sign to the village Pratdip pointing to the mountains. One day, we followed them and we found Dip and Joan Perucho’s novel „natural history“ or in Spanish “las historias naturales”.

Let me tell you more about Pratdip and its vampire Dip.

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Pratdip is a small village and the inhabitants are proud of their Dip

Pratdip is located in the mountains of Llaberia, some 40km southwest of Tarragona.

Narrow steep streets are overseen by the ruins of their castle that sits on a steep rock.

In the village there are various portraits of the vampire Dip in his incarnation as a dog-vampire (vampires can change their appearances rapidly).

When we enter the tourist office, we find another dip.

The assistant laughs: „You are looking for the vampire Dip“, she asks and proudly shows us the book of Joan Perucho with the title „Las historias naturales“. She adds: „Perucho tells you everything about the Dip and what he has done to Pratdip.“ The original version of the novel is in Catalan. I buy the Spanish version.

Then we walk to the hermitage of Santa Maria, along orchards with hazelnut trees…

… and enjoy the hermitage Santa Marina in the mountains…

… where we find a friendly restaurant.

To round our excursion up, we climb the castle rock and enjoy the view.

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Back at home: I enjoy reading „natural history“ by Joan Perucho to learn all about the dip

Back at home I read the novel of Joan Perucho. In his normal life, Perucho was a serious judge. When writing his „historias naturales“ or „natural history“, he must have twinkled with his eyes. The novel can be located somewhere between fable and reality and is full of humor. I could find five threads of interlaced actions.

  • First, the novel is about the vampire Dip –  his full name is Onofro de Dip. In the 13th century, he had owned the „meadows“ around Pratdip (hence the “prats of dip”). He traveled to Hungary to prepare the marriage for his king James I with Yolanda (or Violant) of Hungary (James and Violant are a historical fact). On the way to Hungary, Onofro de Dip fell in love with the lady vampire Meczyr who turned him into a vampire and „Non-Dead“ (No Muerto). He returned to Pratdip in the early 19th century and terrorized the village killing inhabitants every night. The current owner of Pratdip, Baroness Urpí, asks her brother, Marqués de La Gralla, for help (Gralla is a „real“ noble family from Barcelona; they owned a palace that no longer exists today). A friend of the Marqués de Gralla, the young natural scientist Antonio de Montpalau (an invented person), travels to Pratdip, neutralizes the vampire with the help of garlic, parsley and wooden crosses. Then he finds Dip’s grave in the castle and expulses Dip from Pratdip. Onofro de Dip morphs into the solo guerillero El Mochuelo (the Owl) fighting for the (conservative) Carlists and terrorizing the region of Tortosa and Berga. Montpalau pursues him, finds him finally in a crypta near Berga (castle Mataplana) and by speaking out some magic words, Montpalau makes Onofro de Dip die „properly“ and find his peace.
  • Second, the novel is the portrait of the higher society of the Barcelona area in the early 19th century. Montpalau as a young scientist belongs to that higher society. The members of the high society enjoy meeting in the Gralla palace, eating and discussing history, natural science, mathematics or music. As a reader you feel the luxury and shake your head about the sometimes detached, elitist or even absurd discussions. Once Frédéric Chopin and George Sand are invited to a banquet, as they stop over in Barcelona.
    Antonio de Montpalau is a scientist focused on classifying animals and plants around him. He is also interested in geography and geology. Before going to Pratdip, he  researches all literature available and he finds scientific literature about vampires that recommends using garlic, parsley, portulak, wooden crosses and mirrors to fight vampires (I can feel Perucho smile, when he lets Montpalau buy ten dozens of mirrors before leaving for Pratdip).
  • Third, the novel has a historical background: The year 1840 in the first Carlist War in which the male pretendent of the throne, Carl V, fought against his niece, the actual Queen Isabel II.
    • One one hand, the Carlists that fought for Carl V, were conservative. Their target was a federation of several states unified by the king of Spain and the catholic church as the only two common denominators of the federation, conserving, what Spain had been before. A man made constitution was not required in their eyes. Federation, of course, was welcomed by Catalonia (or also by the Basque region). Carlists were strong in Catalonia.
    • On the other hand, the followers of the actual Queen Isabel II were classified as liberals, as they based their ideas on the French Revolution. The wanted the separation of church and state, a centralized state based on the constitution (as set up in 1812, like France). The idea of the centralized state was not, what Catalonia strived for, but the high society in Barcelona, including Antonio de Montpalau, was liberal.
    • Some real persons give a realistic background, the most important being Ramón Cabrera. He was the outstanding leader of the conservative Carlists in Catalonia. His liberal (pro Isabel) opponent was Baldomero Espartero.  In 1840, Espartero defeated Cabrera and his Carlists in Berga not far from the Pyrenees.
    • Montpalau and Onofro de Dip interact with the real persons. Ramón Cabrera has been photographed wearing a large scarf around the collar of his shirt. Furthermore, he has been reported to feel ill, when trying to conquer Gandesa. Perucho tells us the reason. Cabrera attacked Gandesa at the time, when Dip morphed into the Carlist guerilla „El Mochuelo” that wanted to become a Carlist leader himself. He bit Cabrera such that he will become an immortal vampire. This is why Cabrera felt weak and this is why, he had to wear a large scarf (to hide the stitches of the vampire – twinkle). Perucho continues to describe that the liberal Antonio de Montpalau was captured by the conservative (Carlist) troups of Cabrera, how he could ease the symptoms of the bite for Cabrera and how finally Montpalau succeeded to free Cabrera from his gloomy destiny by making Onofro de Dip die properly – as described in the first thread of actions – in the crypta near Berga, just after the Carlist Cabrera had been fully defeated in Berga by the (pro Isabel) Espartero.
  • Fourth, the novel is a travel report about Catalonia in the early 19th century. Antonio de Montpalau, his nephew Novau and his coachman Amadeo travel from Barcelona via Villafranca, Reus and Falset to Pratdip. After having expulsed the vampire-Dip from Pratdip, they leave to pursue the vampire-El Mochuelo, cross the Ebro near Miravet, stay for some time in Gandesa, continue to Morella. Cabrera resides in Morella and Montpalau and his followers are captured here. Then as prisoners, they accompany Cabrera to Berga. Our travelers visit places of interest on the way (e.g. the monastery Vallbona de los Monges where the Queen Violant from Hungary has been buried), admire the beauty of the landscape, eat local specialties and drink delicious wines from Terra Alta. The travel reports are full of humor, e.g. about real places of interest such as the cathedral of Tarragona that they like though their travel handbook by (real) Alexandre Laborde does not recommend to visit it. Or about less real events: The three heroes meet giant fleas, but luckily Monpalau knows, how to escape them: They inflame branches of pine trees and carry them like torches (twinkle).
  • Fifth, it is a love story with a very, very happy end. While Antonio de Montpalau is fighting the Dip in Pratdip, he and Inés fall in love. Inés is the daughter of the baroness Urpí that has asked her brother, Marqués de Gralla, for help against the Dip. Montpalau has to leave his love to pursue the Dip.  A historian has encouraged Montpalau to do so, as he found (historic-scientific) sources that reveil, it is Montpalau’s fate to defeat the Dip (twinkle). After having vanquished the vampire Dip-El Mochuelo near Berga, Montpalau returns to Barcelona. At the palace of Marqués de Gralla he finds his love Inés (the Marqués‘ niece) waiting for him. What a happy end!

Perucho’s novel was the first book that I accomplished reading in Spanish. In the beginning, it was a bit of a tough start for me, because Perucho takes his time to set the stage. But then, when the action of neutralizing and chasing the Dip-El Mochuelo accelerates, what a pleasure! And it was even more pleasure to go back to the start to enjoy the setting of the stage, once I understood more about the historical background. The novel is full of humor and of fantasy with links to real history and geography. I did enjoy reading about many places in Catalonia that I know and that Perucho moves to the early 19th century presenting them with the eyes of Antonio Montpalau and his followers. And I did enjoy to learn more about Spanish history which helps to understand what is going on in Spain today.

 

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Home is not here or there, but inside yourself or nowhere

In 2017 I travelled and travelled. I soaked up culture and history. I met and found friends. I gathered souvenirs, my eyes wide open.

One souvenir is this lake called “Zypressenteich” near Nuremberg (Nürnberg) in Germany: An inviting yellow bench to sit on and just dream and reflect under trees covered with yellow leaves surrounding the mysterious lake hiding its ground.

It could have been here that Hermann Hesse thought about home (or in German: Heimat).

“Heimat ist nicht da oder dort, Heimat ist in Dir drinnen oder nirgends” which can be translated to “Home is not here or there, home is inside yourself or nowhere.” This struck me.

I must admit that, when travelling in 2017, I found my second home in Brandenburg, because everyone around me spoke like my mum. I have never experienced that before. I had found my second home in Brandenburg, while  my first roots are in Basel, the town of my dad, where I live.

Yes, I feel home in Basel and in Brandenburg… here and there… which gives me roots. But nevertheless I sense like Hermann Hesse that my real roots are not here and there, but home is inside myself. He may have used his words to warn from growing nationalism and growing rejection of everything outside.

While travelling, I sensed some signs of growing nationalism which I fear… Hermann Hesse came in right for me and motivated me to work on his thoughts my way, in German first, then trying to translate that.

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Heimat ist in Dir drinnen oder nirgends

Warum Heimat da oder dort suchen?

Warum nach Heimat in der Geschichte forschen?

Warum für Heimat verbissen kämpfen?

Warum Fremde aus der Heimat sperren?

Warum?

Ist denn Heimat nicht in Dir drinnen – oder nirgendwo?

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Home is inside yourself or nowhere

Why look for home here and there?

Why search for home in history?

Why fight for home like do-or-die?

Why lock out others from home?

Why?

Is home not inside yourself – or nowhere?

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Родина внутри тебя или нигде
Почему ищут Родину тут или там?

Почему истоки Родины ищут в истории?

Почему сражаються ожесточённо за Родину?

Почему закрывать Родину чужим?

Почему?

Разве Родина не внутри тебя – или нигде.

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Las raíces están en tí mismo o por ninguna parte

Porqué buscar las raíces por ahí o por allá ?

Porqué investigar las raíces en la historía ?

Porqué batirse por las raíces tan reñidamente ?

Porqué bloquear el ingreso de los extranjeros en nuestras raíces ?

Porqué ?

No es que nuestras raíces están en tí mismo o por ninguna parte ?

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Well, for 2018 I do hope that we look for home inside ourselves and nowhere else!

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Source: “Demian” (1919), requoted in the anthology about trees “Hermann Hesses Betrachtungen und Gedichte über Bäume” edited by the Insel Verlag.

 

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Back to some business – mentoring a student at the verge of work life

Recently I have signed up with the alumni organisation of “my” university to participate in their mentoring program for students at the verge of work life. Mentoring – I have done that before and my former mentee is now a good friend of mine.

Let me reflect about what mentoring is and what an effective approach may look like.

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What is mentoring?

In the Internet I found this definition of the Alberta Learning Information Service ALIS that resonates with me:

«Mentors are experienced, trusted advisors or counsellors who have successful careers and proven track records. Mentors are not usually paid for their services.

As a mentor, your role will be to:

  • make a commitment to support and encourage your mentee
  • encourage your mentee to develop careers that reflect their skills, potential and goals
  • offer wisdom, knowledge, experience, constructive criticism, connections and resources
  • focus on the overall career directions like advancement and training rather than on day-to-day concerns of your mentee
  • set an example for the level of professional conduct and success your mentee hopes to achieve»

In alignment with this definition and with my previous mentoring experience I understand that…

  • The mentor accompanies the overall career development of his mentee in a one to one setup independent of the current work place. He acts as a sparring partner bringing in his long year experience, with the target to help the mentee find a career path that matches his/her strengths and interests. The relationship is based on mutual trust and confidentiality. The time horizon is longer term and can be several years.
  • Mentoring is different from coaching. I understand that a coach accompanies an employee at his/her work place – to perform efficiently and effectively according to his potential.

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How would I conceive our mentoring process to be effective?

To mentor a student at the verge of work life, I think of these steps for the process to be satisfactory and effective. 

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  • Basis: Initiative is with Mentee / Mentor is a responsive sparring partner
    From the mentee, I expect that he/she will drive the relationship, invite for meetings and/or ask for support, when he is ready or needs it. As a mentor, I will be the responsive (reachable) and  supportive sparring partner bringing in my experience and network. The mentee has to solve his “problem” and he can count on my mentor support. As a mentor, I cannot impose my ideas, I just give suggestions, hopefully good suggestions based on my experience.
  • Align mentor and mentee / revise relation: Trust and commitment
    As a first step, we, the mentor and the mentee will get to know one another, exchange about our motivations and backgrounds and find alignment. The target is to build trust. Trust is indispensable for our mentor/mentee relationship. Without trust it is not possible to proceed and achieve results. Based on trust, we make the commitment to start our mentor/mentee relationship. This relationship is not expected to be short term, and hence it is also necessary to revise it from time to time to verify trust and commitment still exist.
  • Identify mentee strengths/interests/personality: Profile
    As a second step, the mentee will identify his profile, with my mentor support. The profile consists out of his strengths (capabilities/talents/knowledge), his personality (e.g. more a researcher or an entrepreneur) and his interests (what activities turn me on). Useful structures to identify the profile are provided by Tim Clark, Alexander Osterwald and Yves Pingeur: “Business Model You“, Campus Verlag, Frankfurt am Main 2012). They call it “key resources”.
  • Find targets: Value propositions
    Based on the profile or key resources, the next step is to find the activities that are of value for potential customers and that allow my mentee to make a living (earn money) and perhaps harness more personal benefits (such as satisfaction from living his mission or from doing what he likes to do). Tim Clark et alii recommend to find the “value propositions” using their structured “business canvas“.
  • Sell and apply: CVs, job selection > job
    Based on the profile and targets identified, we can act and apply for jobs. The profile will be phrased out in CVs (for media such as LinkedIn and for the “paper” CV that  might need adaption for individual applications. As a mentor, I also think of using my network and of coaching the interview process (letter of motivation, what the interviewer may ask/expect or ideas on how to react when being rejected). 
  • Digest lessons: Updated profiles, value propositions and CVs
    The experience gained during job applications will help us to loop back and update the profile and value proposition and the CVs (in the media (such as LinkedIn) and in the paper CV. Then more applications may follow – or it is also an alternative to look for options to open a business.
  • Hand over to work life: Business mentor
    Once, a job is found, I will have to retreat. I suggest to find a business mentor for similar support in the new work life. Well, in case our mentor/mentee relation was one of trust all the way through, I might have found another friend that would perhaps come back and ask for ideas and support from time to time.

 

 

 

 

 

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Wonderful, I will be a godmother (Gotte) – what does that mean?

“Will you be godmother to my son”, my nephew asks me…

Around Christmas, I try to calm down my nephew’s half year old son – I am his grand-auntie. Not his auntie, his GRAND-antie. Then my nephew asks me, whether I would be the godmother of my grand-nephew. I feel touched. Yes, of course, I agree.

I have never been a godmother before. Another new adventure at my – not so young-  age. I look forward to that and start to think about what matters.

After looking back to my childhood and listening to friends I think that care and love matter, being authentic and reliable, finding an atmosphere of trust, and living this by creating habits, by exchanging, by showing you are always there when needed and – yes, also – by making presents that will be remembered. It all has to come from the heart. Accept that this is a mutual relation and enjoy that. And it may become a friendship that lasts beyond the age of 20.

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Looking back to my childhood: I enjoyed the love and care of my godfather and my godmother though they lived far away

My godfather was Onkel Nante and my godmother was Tante Christine.

Bilder petra

Onkel Nante must have been my age (around 65), when he started his journey with me. He was my mum’s uncle and my grand uncle. He lived in Berlin. I could feel his love in the carefully selected presents, in the letters we exchanged and during my visits in Berlin. One present I remember were the Christmas angels singing “Holy Night”. It was a music box with a windup mechanism, and after some time, the tune would slow down: H-oo-oo-ll-yyy—- n-iii… and then it would fade away. These angels accompanied me every Christmas. When I was seven, Onkel Nante gave me a skirt with a matching vest, modeled after the red-green-white Scottish kilt, and I was proud of wearing it for many years – I also wear it on the foto. Then I received a summer dress in ice rose – so beautiful. And, when I was fifteen, he had a blue costume made for me to cover my (temporary) overweight. I often exchanged letters with Onkel Nante and his wife. Both were always interested in my life. When I was a student, I traveled to Spain staying in a tent, and I sent him a travel report. The result: An angry letter to my mum: “Please give your daughter enough money to stay in a hotel – tents are extremely unhealthy!” He was more than 80 years old by then, but he was still worrying about me. When I started studying economics at university, he sat down with me, looked at me firmly and asked, whether I will be able to earn a living with that. So – what I remember, are some great gifts and his loving care. And today, I always go to see his house in Berlin, not far from the mosque, to – virtually – say hello to him (his house has been sold).

My godmother, Tante Christine, was a friend of my mum’s and lived in Köln. She always lived alone and may not have had a lot of opportunities to travel. I have not met her often. But we regularly exchanged letters, and she always selected her gifts with great care. For my birthday and for Christmas, she would send me jumpers – they always became my favourite jumpers. I particularly remember an ice blue jumper. Through the letters and her gifts I could also feel her love. One day my letters were no longer answered. I was very sad. I think she must have been lonely and sharing her love with me was also important to her.

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Ernst, my husband, shared adventures with his godson

In my first summer with Ernst I heard him mumble: “My godson left a message on the answering machine. He wants to spend a few days with me. I will pick him up at the train station.”  We had a few wonderful days – I particularly remember the mini golf tournament that he won. Sometimes we all would take the camper, roast sausages, sleep near a lake in the mountains, go for hikes and climbs or visit the caves in the area. In winter we went out skiing. Every Christmas, Ernst renewed the subscription to “Spick”, a scientific newspaper for kids. After having finished school, the godson shyly said that perhaps he does not need the “Spick” newspaper any more. Now he is a scientist himself, and for his doctorate exam, Ernst promised him a globe based on his specifications… a wish that I eventually fulfilled, when Ernst was already a star watching over us. There was this regular tradition of presents and also sharing time and adventures. The relationship carried on into adulthood and I inherited it in a way after Ernst had left us.

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Some of my friends add that for them regularity, independent advice and a mutual relationship for ever are important

From various friends I gathered their godfather and godmother experience.

A friend of mine had a godfather that was a farmer with nine children: “He was not rich. But every birthday and every Christmas, he gave me a five franc piece (Fünfliber). He slipped it firmly into my hand looking at me with warm and kind eyes. I loved these moments. And they came back every birthday and every Christmas, with regularity. Being able to rely on this regular gift was very important for me”, he pointed out to me.

A couple told me that they had selected a very good friend as the godmother for their daughter. It all started well, but then the friendship broke. The godmother wanted to give back her duty. But the mother said: “Well, you may give back your godmother duties, but do not tell my daughter. She is very proud of you and she loves to think of presents for your birthday and for Christmas. We do not want to take that away from her.” So, the daughter, not knowing about the problem, continued to handicraft presents for her godmother. Eventually, the friendship between the parents and the godmother was restored and the daughter had never noticed the problem… Yes, the relationship between godparents and godchild is mutual.

My friend from Munich (now also in her sixties) told me that she has just visited Tante Bärbel in the hospital. She is her godmother and is now in her nineties. The friendship with the godmother lasted far beyond her childhood – beautiful.   And her husband added that he valued the advice of his godparents that added an independent view to the opinion of his parents.

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So – let me try to live up to that…

… and I do hope that I will be able to accompany my godson into his adulthood.