The unquestionable question

Today an old question becomes relevant again. I read about a protestant vicar who says he doesn’t believe in God anymore, but keeps working as a vicar. In the Christian newspaper “Trouw” an interview was published with the famous Dutch poet Rutger Kopland who also says he doesn’t believe in God. And yet, if you read and listen to their thoughts, you recognize their feelings about God. They have indeed religious feelings, but at least Kopland doesn’t call them religious. The vicar says in very interesting words that “he believes in a God who doesn’t exist”. I come back to this later.

Now there’s also published the Dutch translation of the book by Francesco Carotta who claims by means of a lot of “circumstantial evidence” that the Gospels are inspired by the life of Julius Caesar, and that Jesus is not a historical person but made up of traits and characteristics of Julius Caesar.

And yet it belongs of course to the essence of being religious: that you believe in God. I can remember that we as children went to friends because they had a “holy mass acting set”: a little altar, toy holy mass accessories, and holy mass priest and acolyte clothing. So we could “play holy mass”. My parents found it a bit blasphemous, so we hadn’t got such a set. I remember that when my friend stood on the chair leaning on its back (the pulpit) as a priest to start his sermon, he never could be more original than shouting “God exists!” He always played the priest because the toys were his so he wanted to be the boss. I found it the dullest and dumbest cry one could utter as part of a sermon. Of course God existed, you don’t need to emphasize that so strongly. It was a given fact, and if you had doubts, then it was your fault and not God’s fault of being non-existent.

Now I hear that even the Dutch archbishop Cardinal Simonis has sometimes doubts. But what kind of doubts are we talking about when we ask the unquestionable question whether God exists or not? If we say “God doesn’t exist” do we mean the same as if we would say “Santa Claus doesn’t exist” or “it’s only a dream, these things don’t exist” or “miracles don’t exist” etc. Many religious people think that denying God’s existence is in the same kind of meaning. Something exists, and “exists” means that you can notice it, or could have noticed it if you were there, with your senses, it’s something touchable, visible etc. and if you can’t notice it, it doesn’t exist. Existing things and phenomena have something sacrosanct, non-existent things you can ignore, they don’t “matter”. Writing this – and hopefully you reading this – this reality starts to stagger. Are our senses trustworthy in deciding if something exists or not? Must something be existent in order to be real, and must something be real to be existent? This is not playing with words. There are realities (or, if you like, there is a reality) that we cannot notice with our senses, not even with the finest observation instruments, even the harshest “atheist” will acknowledge this. There were times during which scholars presented calculated and logically coherent “proofs of God’s existence”. What they did, was applying a human idea (the concept of “proof”) to God. And that ‘s also the reason why there are atheists: these people refuse to accept something for existent that cannot be described or logically deducted. People who pray to “The Lord” do accept this, without being able to describe Who or What He is. Of course, masses of religious people think they can describe Him, in an image that we all know: a man on a throne, ruling everything. You can’t see Him because He is some kind of Almighty Ghost, steering everything with His invisible hand.

I strongly believe that we humans are very good in telling Who God is not, and very unable to tell Who He is. I think that’s also the reason why God’s name is so important in Judaism and Islam: in Judaism He has one unspeakable name (you may not even mention it), in Islam Allah (God) has 99 names. In Christianity we use the metaphors of “Lord” and “Father”, which are rather role-names than names referring to an identity.

The only way, I think to approach a description of God is speaking in the “I’ and “me” – mode, and I’ll try to do so. Whoever thinks to be full of faith and absolutely without doubts, and speaks of “God will…” or “God is…”, and also whoever decisively rejects any talking or thinking about God, might both well be wrong in their idea of Who or What God is. Why can I say this? Can I assess another’s faith? No, my idea of God is wrong because as long as I (emphasis on “I”) think that my idea of God reflects the reality of God, I’m wrong, God is beyond any idea, I notice God, if I may say so, at least with my needs, not with my senses. God is there because I need Him. I could write a book about it, and it will not be sufficient. I think I understand the vicar who said: “I believe in a God who doesn’t exist”, but I don’t understand people who tell me that God exists or doesn’t exist. Next time part II of this deliberation on God.

A grey autumn day

Thursdays are my days "off". That is to say, I'm supposed to do the laundry, shopping, walk the dog, take care of my son during lunchtime, repair and maintain things in and around the house etc. There were times I took work with me from school but I don't do that anymore unless it's very urgent. The problem is that I got hooked to photography. Not the laborious work with tripods, lenses, photoshop-processing etc., but simply taking a light camera with me and snapshot what I find interesting to register. Today the photos got my priority and after this post I'll take care of the laundry. This is contrary to what's taught in time management courses, but I also learn that if you first do the "important things" ("urgent and relevant", and "not urgent but relevant") then you never can do unimportant things such as writing a post on your blog. Anyway, after my son and wife left the house for their work and school, I asked my dog Joris "Gaat-ie mee?" (Dutch for: "Will he be accompanying me?"- who said that English is shorter than Dutch?) and of course he didn't say no. Did I have my shitspoon (don't know the right word but you know what I mean) with me? My keys? My camera? I close the door behind me for a 90 minutes walk. It isn't a bright day, outsiders would say: this is no weather for taking pictures but I know better (see my photoblog, the reedland series). The shining sun gives a lot of restrictions: sharp contrasts, fragmentation of what you want to picture as a whole, etc. First I walk through our prosperous, but rather dull living quarter. People from poor countries wouldn't find it dull because there's maintained green everywhere around, and all houses have well maintained flower gardens. Despite it's 1 November, there are still flowers here and there. Then I walk along the railway street (parallel to the railway), and cross them to arrive in the countryside on a road called "Slachtedyk". I don't understand why I mention the road name because readers in the USA wouldn't find it important, but this is an unimportant walk, so let it be. On the other side of the railroad I stunned because what did I see? A protest meeting of cows! They were gathered around a protest sign and watched me silently with their eyes full of accusation. The only thing I could do for them was taking a picture and send it to the local newspaper (I did both before starting this posting - both? Redundant information, because I can't send it to the newspaper if I didn't shoot the picture before, sorry for this extra reading). I think it's more relevant for you to know what they were protesting against. It was against the construction of a new road which is intended to lead the traffic around our village, instead of going through it. But this road would go through their land and this was of course more than the ultimate they could bear. Then I decided to walk along the Slachtedyk. Joris was sniffing and trying to stop us at every tree because of the interesting odors that tickled his nose, and I was looking around for interesting picture material. Here our interests clashed, but I am the boss so the eye won over the nose, although he tried to annoy me a hundred times ( I didn't count) by pulling the belt I held him with. Yes, nice trees, yes, nice views, but here it was a lamp pole, there a car, and / or a traffic sign spoiling the potential picture. Then, after going to the right into a narrow alley, I got a new surprise. Would this be my once-in-a-lifetime picture? A whole crowd of hundreds of geese were sitting in a large meadow. We had been walking behind a rather tight wall of vegetation so they hadn't noticed us, but coming near an open spot in it, I noticed how all of them had stretched their necks to monitor what we did, ready to take off. I quickly attached Joris to a branch behind a shrub and prepared my camera, and I was just in time to capture the take-off. They flied in two groups: one to the North, the other to the South, and I realised this was a survival technique, developed in thousands of years being hunted by my fellow-species specimen. I captured first the North group, then the South group. Later on it appeared that they could have been closer for the ideal picture, and that I needed a better camera to get them crisper on the screen, but I'm satisfied. Walking further through the lane I arrived at a tree wall in nice colors with a red hay shaker which I of course pictured. On our way back I was charmed by the wheel prints of a tractor in the mud, and pictured the trees along the Slachtedyk after having hidden a lamp post behind one of the trees, if you look closely you see the lamp seemingly attached to a tree instead of its picture-disturbing pole. Walking through the streets of our living quarter I couldn't help taking pictures of a hydrangea flower bush and some rose hips, beautifully enframed in yellow leaves.

Of course I had to immediately process the harvest of pictures, which are shown above, fresh from the field, picked today. Enjoy!

Three cases

1.
A friend of mine is in Afghanistan at the moment, not to fight but to cure: he is a surgeon in a military compound. There they treat under dangerous circumstances the many severely wounded with modern equipment. He regularly sends e-mails with pictures to his Dutch friends in which he, like in a diary, describes what he and his colleagues are experiencing from day to day. His e-mails let themselves read almost as a novel. You know that there are doctors over there, you know there's fighting, etc., but when you read the daily reports about the accidents, the injuries, the amputations, the failed operations (luckily they are few because the very dangerously injured die during transportation, if you survive this, you have a reasonable chance to make it), the way the doctors pass their scarce leisure time, etc. you really become aware how foolish war is in fact. Although the field-hospital is primarily intended for military, most helped are Afghanistans, and even the civilian hospital in Kabul sends patients to them because of their medical skills and advanced equipment.

When in the Netherlands somebody is shot in the street, all newspapers and TV report exensively about it. This week there were two casualties: one schizophrenic patient escaped from his guidance during an outing in the city, ran to the police station and stabbed the officer at the counter, after which he tried to stab her colleague, who shot him before he could do so; on his way to the hospital he died. The stabbed officer survived after medical treatment. The night after this happened, there were protest demonstrations against the police who allegedly "murdered" the man who entered the policestation. Two days after this event, a 14 year old high school pupil killed his classmate with a knife because he didn't like him. These casualties cause waves of upsetness and sorry in the whole country - in Afghanistan things like these occur hundreds of times more often - . And in Iraq it's still worse.

My friend the surgeon explained before he left that he went there voluntarily, the Netherlands were bound to provide a certain amount of medical support, and contributions to this support were given by regular hospitals throughout the country by means of a system built on free will and equal distribution of burden.

2.
Nearer to home, I saw on TV teams of volunteers recruited via a special Internetsite, who help people without money in deep trouble. Since about ten years, our government subsideses so-called "care far"ms": those are farms provided with the needed housing facilities, to house people like homeless and difficult life circumstances, not able to lead a normal civic life. In exchange for farm work - to the extent of their abilities - these people get housing and professional guidance leading them to a life with a job and income, if needed, with extra education. The farms are far from the cities and they have proven to be effective in most cases. Next to the professionals, also volonteers work on those farms. On TV one vould see how a teenage mother was in deep trouble because she was pregnant of her second baby and the welfare authorities would take the baby away from her because she had no house. Her family was poor and she stayed for the time being in a small bedroom with one of her familymembers. She put a help call on the Internetsite, and got an invitation from a "care farm": she was so happy, and could keep the bay, while her young husband (also a late teener) would get coaching for a school where he would learn a job.

3.
Another help team from the Internetsite was shown while cleaning up the mess in a house, and restoring it (it leaked, there was draught everywhere, the electricity cables were not in order etc.) because there, too, a kid would be taken away because of the miserable living circumstances. The boy (I estimate around 10) would "never" leave his parents he said, and his mother would flee the country if they would come and collect her son. The mother was 46 years old and the father 72. The help team was welcomed whole-heartedly, they cleaned up and repaired, and the family could stay together.

You see, these are the people who put everything in practice. They deserve a medal and a guest seat in Oprah's show.

Smartest question ever

After a lecture on globalization students of our school had to write an essay on this topic. In one of the essays I came across this question which I find very intriguing and which I myself couldn't have figured out, I also don't know the answer yet:

How come we are able to transport every product and all bits of information around the world and yet we are unable to transport incomes and knowledge equally over the world?

A sad happening

Wendy returns from her holidays. On her doormat she finds an envelope which looks like containing a sad message. Indeed, the message said that her grandfather had passed away at the age of 95. Not only was it sad, but it made her also upset because the funeral already had taken place during her holidays! She jumps into her car and drives to grandma to apologize for not being at the funeral and to ask how this could occur so suddenly, because granddad was still a very active man, doing his garden, sailing out to fish, going to the pub regularly etc. Grandma says: Oh darling, what can I say, it happened during, er…, well you know what I mean you are grown-up, so… Wendy replies: Oh no, what happened, then? Grandma: Well, of course we are not that young anymore and need some support when doing it, and preferably we do it on Sunday mornings because then we get support from the big church bell. Bing-bong, bing-bong, the rhythm was so nice and slow you know, and (and here she couldn’t stop her tears, and Wendy felt so sorry for her), wha-wha-your granddad would still be alive when that stupid ice cream seller didn’t pass outside in the street with his stupid little bell!!

Two happy days

Our dog Joris is jawning, sooo boring! (picture taken a month ago, now we had to wear jackets)

Last week Sunday we celebrated the last day of Menno's "birthweek". His official birthday is September 3, and on that day he became 10 years! During the whole week the guirlands were hanging from the ceiling, as a welcome to adults and children. This last day we went with a group of little friends to the movie, made cheap by the supermarket chain of Albert Heijn: for every x Euros spent, you got a free second movie theatre ticket, so we only had to pay half the total price. We watched "The Simpsons" so the adults among us had also a good time and didn't have to watch computer-made "plastic" puppets experience adventures liked by children alone. (At least it's not my first choice for a movie).

Yesterday the weather was 1st choice for a sailing day: wind force 4 and a brilliant sun, so the three of us spent the day on the water. Up to then, it was one of the nicest sailing days. Janine took sailing lessons from me and Menno kept himself busy with all kinds of little jobs such as taking care of the "willen" (cushion-like devices to protect from bumping - most younger sailors use the English word for it but the older people still use the good Dutch word for it, I forgot the English word) and other things that had to be done.

This week I have to make an appointment to have the boat put on land, at a shipyard owned by the son of the designer / builder of the boat, Lodewijk Meeter. He built only around twenty of these boats in the 19seventies, and he still has the original drawings. Then it will be much work to get the boat in a better condition by sandpapering (rust!), painting and improving the rigging! Everything advised by Lodewijk, and if craftmanship is involved, he could help us very well.

Photoblogging and psychology

I always admire people who can make an unequivocal choice: they choose their profession at ten years old, at fourteen they make a CPM network schedule for the rest of their lives, they are always optimistic and motivated, are creative, and a pleasure for their family, friends and colleagues.
They always have been working at some project(s) in Africa or India (“they have fallen in love with it”) and know what poverty and self discipline is, but at the same time, having passed their 40th year of age, they drive a USV 4-wheel drive, own at least two houses and a yacht.
Because of the success they had in their career, they are often asked as a keynote speaker on conferences. They have been asked to become a politician many times, but they preferred the business world with network connections to education and universities.
Next to their business positions they are chairperson or board members of at least one charity foundation.
They have written and published at least one book, mostly a book about how something can and must be improved (your career, your personality, society, business, management, always “spiritual” and are now busy with a second bestseller. They are wonderful parents and their children are proud to have such a father / mother.

This is what they do. Now what they don’t do.

They don’t waste time with irrelevant hobbies such as fishing, cooking, horses, dogs, collecting stamps, etc. Of course they have a hobby (cooking when they cook once every three months, or dogs if they own a dog they never walk with – ever seen a celebrity walking with his/her dog in the park? They never do useless things such as counting the tiles in the bathroom while doing what they have to do, maintaining a photoblog, watching TV, doing the dishes, searching the whole city and Internet for a special item they need for a repair job, and other dull John Doe activities.

They don’t read articles about successful people, instead they call them for appointments or simply a chat.

I envy these people because of what they have, not because of what they do. I would also like to have all these things: celebrity, houses, yacht, charisma, the skills to immediately know what the trends are and knowing how to respond on them, clearly visible in word and image. I don’t like doing what they do and/or I don’t master the competencies needed for it. Having your agenda completely filled with appointments, meetings, travels, storing everything in your or your secretary’s memory, always showing strong motivation for things I find taken for granted, boring repetition or fashionable hot air. Hot air? What a disdain! Look how much money you can make out of hot air!

But sometimes… I read about somebody who actually HAS all these things, and also hates the things I also hate, and also does what John Doe also does. And then I get an indescribable feeling of failure. Why not me? Oh, I should have lived like he did! If only in 19.. I wouldn’t have done this-or-that, if only I wasn’t so stupid to…, if only …

And I fall in the trap of relentless ego-lamentation. Poor me! And I look helplessly around me. And then I discovered the photoblog. It really helps, you feel accepted and sometimes even admired! Make a good picture, look around at other pictures, discuss the content, admire other people’s products and get admired, enjoy visual beauty, get stunned about free and super-fast communication, get hooked.

But then, after half a year of photoblogging, the old feeling comes back. You see that somebody owns a couple of Canons and Leica’s. You have started with a mobilephone, and now you have a small pocketcamera. You see that these Leica’s produce better pictures. You hate Photoshop, because it’s fake, you think. And you see how Photoshop can make a piece of art out of a bad picture, and how these artifacts are admired…. The little devil whispers: buy also such a beautiful camera with a couple of lenses. Why? I think I postpone it, I know it’s the old feeling again and I don’t like that. It’s all psychology.

Stephen's challenge

Stephen has decided on the photochallenge of September for the Sears family and their visitors who are also invited to take the challenge. The theme is "harvest". This word (as a schoolmaster I can't help teaching) is closely related to the Dutch word "herfst" and the German word "Herbst", both meaning "autumn". For harvest the Dutch have the word "oogst" (requires long practice for non-Dutch for the proper pronunciation), and the German say "Ernte" when they mean harvest (requires for English speaking people also a lot of practice to be pronounced the right way). So I think that the English simply took herfst / Herbst and chose a variation that suited their tongue and cheek movements, to indicate the collection of fruits and cerials in the Autumn, which they called "Autumn" because harvest / herfst /Herbst was now reserved for the fruit-and-cerials collection.

This theory will soon be published in the Hurdegarypster Journal for Historical Linguistics.

Anyway, cycling home from school I found one of these mini-stands along the road that pop up here and there around this time, offering fruit, marmelade and vegetables from the home's gardens. Alongside the products you find a price list and a jar in which you are supposed the money. Unfortunately this one was already nearly sold out, I already had marmelade, beans and red beets from them. I'm proud to live in a region where people trust each other this way!

A day on the water and with family

Yesterday we went sailing; my boat never went so fast, aroud 2 PM the windforce wasn't 4 but 5-6 and on top of that the main sail lacked a reef possibility (which I'm going to change this winter). At the end of July we had also this kind of wind, but then I improvised a reef by binding the hind-part of the sail to its bottom bar ("giek" I don't know the English word), but although it worked, it didn't satisfy because of the loose sack which it causes at the sail bottom. I don't trust the boat 100% because of its old rigging - I heard too many stories about broken masts etc. - so I only dared sail with hoisted sails with the wind blowing from behind. Janine, Menno, my brother Peter and the dog were with me on the boat and Janine and Peter (who don't know much about sailing) encouraged me not to put on my improvised reef (why do we need that? - this is not a storm!). After the trip, when we were at home Janine told me that I should be more bossy and a real captain so when people wanted other things than I had in mind, I should overrule them and make my word law. That day she got familiar with the forces that a boat has to endure at windforce 5-6 with full sails. I was on the other side happy to got familiar with how the boat behaves under these circumstances, nothing was damaged but I was sure it would have been very difficult and probably impossible without severe damage, to sail with the wind from 45 degrees in front of us(in Dutch: "sharply to the wind"). We went that fast that after having dropped the sails and started the engine I thought at first that the engine didn't work because of the difference in speed with the sailing movement. Under more normal circumstances we could sail the whole route until the home marine, but this route leads us through rather narrow canals, and with that speed this could have been dangerous because there were more boats and collisions are not easy to avoid then. Apart from this: the big number of motor boats nowadays annoys me sometimes because these people often lack knowledge of (1) traffic rules on the water and (2) sailing, so one cannot rely on traffic rules because you don't know if the motor skipper knows them and I most of them are not familiar with the possibilities and restrictions of a boat with sails, so they simply keep their course and take priority also if they haven't. I suspect that many of them think that a sailing boat is more "primitive" and never have priority!

The late afternoon we spent at my brother's new house in a village in the Eastern part of the province, and we admired the way he has (re)furbished it. He has a son (17) and two daughters (I think 14 and 12), he and his wife working and still studying so their life is one big agenda without holes. He shares the photo-hobby with me. They went to the Czech Republic on holidays (formerly part of Csechoslowakia, what a shame that this small country has been split up in two still smaller parts!) and he showed me a number of pictures he made over there. Two of them you can see on my photoblog (4 and 5 September).

As for my thoughts on the subject I wrote about the two previous times: I don't think we have tot take this too dramatically. It's true that many Christians and Liberals in the West on the one hand, and many Muslims in the East on the other hand, mistrust each other. It's true that many Muslims adhere more strongly to family- and respect-values than Westerners do (translating respect by adherence to tradition values and not to achievement values per se) and that in Western eyes there's not much difference in their perception of a Biblical desert-society and a rural Muslim society nowadays, but it's not true that there are no liberal-thinking Muslims. Just as is the case with Christians, what people hear, read and see are the loud preachers and the Truth-owners, not the silent spiritually-inspired or the hard-working and modest contribuants to prosperity and welfare. Preaching that people who have another belief must be fought, or must be converted by all means, means that one is scared: there simply MUST be one concrete and tangible truth with all rules and regulations attached to it, otherwise earth (and the preacher / converter!) will end in hell. I don't hesitate to say that the Liberal truth is also one of many truths, although I love the heritage of Goethe, Spinoza and Kant.

This is a view, a vision, and one cannot do more than living according to this view as much as possible, although emotions often challenge you. I hope and trust that eventually Reason will win.

One of today's questions

Tomorrow’s program tells us that we’ll have a sailing trip with my brother. There will be windforce 4 and a reasonable chance of some rain. We are not sure whether Janine and Menno will join us, we decide that I think this evening. The school will take its normal course again. I just have sent an e-mail to a student whose dissertation concept was awful, I’m afraid that he will require very close guidance, according to the famous 8—20 rule: 20% of all cases ask for 80% of time and attention. He hasn’t been guided up to now by me and luckily these cases are rare. His study pace is slow because since 2 years we have team-dissertations: groups of students study like consultants company problems for which they design a solution, a very successful formula; the only disadvantage is that it’s not individual, but individual contributions within the team are weighed and included in the final assessment. A problem is also that there must be sufficient co-operating companies, and that the cases are sufficiently serious to reach a dissertation’s level.

Something else: last time I asserted that when you ask an Afghanistan opium-growing farmer if growing opium is in accordance with Islam, he would answer that such a question wouldn’t suit me, because the Western world causes much more problems than he does with his job. I gave it a second thought and I think I have to adjust this: probably the farmer would take his life and world as it is, without such “Western” questions, even if he could read and follows the news. So many people everywhere in the world take everything as it is. They follow the tradition of their cultures and clans, and when these traditions have been weakened or are threatened by Western influences, there is always the daily struggle for food and living which will be done by means that in our eyes are less moral or objectionable.

Many hundreds of thousands of these people have immigrated into Europe, or try to immigrate. Of course, they bring with them their traditions and leaders who try to keep them on the right track, which is often contrary to the Western right track which they often consider to be sinful and despicable. Their world of views and truths are often diametrically opposed to values we find important: women and men treated equally, own choices in marriage and education, freedom of speech, variation in clothing, loose family bonds, rewards for achievement and not for kinship or tradition-adherence, etc. etc. Ten years ago I was very surprised by what I saw as arrogance, the way some of their leaders preached hatred against Western society, at the same time receiving social welfare benefits. I thought: “Why are you here then?”, a very obvious question in Western eyes. In one of my lectures I showed in my ignorance a portrait of their prophet in a Powerpoint presentation, the same week I got reprimanded by a Muslim colleague because Muslim students had complained to him. I got flabbergasted because female teachers refused to shake hands with men (parents, colleagues) because their faith forbade them to do so, and a Muslim priest (imam) refused to shake hands with a Minister (State Secretary) visiting their mosque. I asked myself if Muslim ministers would visit Christian churches in a Muslim country, even our queen did so once and she wisely avoided trying to shake hands with the mosque leaders. In a TV program a Muslim leader refused to sit at an interview table together with seven other partners in a debate, because one of them had a glass of wine before him. His son, also a Dutch “celebrity” walked away from a program because one lady’s skirt was too short according to him.

I just read a wise article in my paper which brings me back to my rational senses. It says: let’s stop arguing and debating about how Muslims should adjust themselves to our values. Don’t pay attention to it anymore. In another newspaper there was an article discussing an American philosopher, Lee Harris, who has a more pessimistic view, he is right when he says that our values, based on philosophies by people such as Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, Voltaire etc. is very rare in the world. Only a few countries have succeeded in overcoming the all-embracing power of tradition, clan and family, trying to defend themselves with all thinkable means. In our laws and legislation “tolerance” is a main virtue, in most other countries it means weakness.

The way Muslim groups and leaders link their values and views to their fait is highly questionable. Many Muslims adhere to tolerance, reward according to achievement, respectful treatment of everybody, etc. but most of them live in the U.S.A. or have positions requiring high education in Europe, they are only a small minority, often considered as non-Muslims by their own brethren (sisters don’t have a say). We in Holland have a Muslim Minister and many Muslims are in local or regional governments.

After reading and thinking, I was left in confusion, there are still many questions, or maybe one or two very big questions, left to be answered.

Varia Diversa

Hello blog, here we are again! I’m sorry for being absent for such a long time so you think I’ll have much to tell. Well, te be honest, the fact that I had little to tell was one of the causes of my absence so I have to do my best to get something worthwhile from the little corners of my imagination and memory. Of course, I could tell about my holidays and other stuff people tell each other when they are at work again. Why wouldn’t I? Well, we, that’s to say my wife Janine, our son Menno, our week-end “daughter” Elyanne and our dog Joris went sailing in Friesland, so we didn’t travel far away. It was lots of fun: the adults enjoyed the sailing and the children the playing along beaches and in marinas. We enjoyed all kinds of weather you can imagine: tropical heat, autumn temperatures, strong wind, almost no wind, tropical rain, Dutch rain (steady long term, not sudden showers), mist, clouds, clear sky, you name it, this is Western Europe, man! Now I’m at work again, already since a fortnight. My job is to assess dissertations or theses if you like, at bachelor’s level, and I try to avoid that the students’ stress will infect me, although many are in a hurry, if they get their grading too late (15 September they have to pay new tuition fees. No, they cannot charge it to me when it’s my fault because I left their work in the drawer for too long. I’m at an age at which many are already retired and I always try to keep up the image that I don’t want to retire that early and keep working as long as possible, but I know that’s not true, my true reasons for not retiring are secret and then you know already what I mean.

I’m also almost addicted to photography. Not that I picture everything that comes before my lense, but I like to photograph nice items, especially landscapes and “landscape furniture” such as mills, sailing boats, churches, etc. On my photoblog I discovered that there are as many photographers as kinds of subjects, and every photographer has his/her favourite subject items. My weakness is landscapes and related stuff, also because I cannot find time to be busy with creating the right light conditions, much Photoshopwork, arranging things, waiting long for the right moment, etc. No. Veni vidi vici (aut non successi): I came, I saw and I achieved (or failed). I make too many good pictures to post on my photoblog, which is restricted to only 1 picture per day – a very wise policy of the blog management.

Above I show you some pics that couldn’t be posted on my blog because of this restriction. I also don’t want to become a bit one-sided and show each time either a mill, a house or a sailing boat, so some of them could have a place here. Enjoy!

Like so many other people I’m also bothered about what I read in the newspapers. I recently read the startling news that 90% of all heroine is grown in Af…istan. It has been found that the Nabilat (I don’t want to be found by searching machines on these words but you know what I mean) encourages to grow it, and get much profit from it. I’m sure these opium farmers are faithful Mu…ms and I wonder what they would answer when you would ask them why they grow opium, and if that is OK with the K..an. I know what they would answer me: you are rich, you drive a car, you have a machine for everything in the household and thanks to you the climate is changing so that people in Bangla Desh suffer from floods when the sea level is rising because of melting poles and glaciers. So what’s wrong about a heroin enjoying looser who is, on top of that, a victim of your pagan way of living, no, if you would follow the K..an and become mu…ms like me, there would be no heroin problem; what do I have to do with it, a poor farmer who works hard to earn a living? Thirdly: if I didn’t grow the opium the Nabilat would punish me. Etcetera etcetera.

So many things are relative, and many times I feel I have to choose, take a standpoint, be a MAN! There are many view- and standpoints to choose. In debates you notice that everybody is right and only a few people are completely wrong, but that people who are both right don’t seek to compromise or to find the common basis of their different views, but on the contrary, want to show how different their view is from their opponent’s view, and how wrong he is, and how right their own view is.

So much for today. Next time my latest contribution to the school magazine if I’ve nothing else to report.

Photoblogging

I don’t know what’s going on with me. I seem to be hooked on my photoblog, neglecting my written blog. Well, let’s start afresh, and try to maintain my written diary of thoughts and events. First, my experiences with the photoblog and then my vicissitudes with boat and family.
The photoblog made me more aware of visual experiences. Also, I try to understand what photography, as mere expression or representation of visual reality, can mean for people, and then I mean the watcher. There’s no sharp distinction between watcher and maker of a picture, because the maker also watches his/her own products and enjoys them. One essential difference is that the maker selects and processes the picture, (s)he chooses an image, a frame, decides whether it will be black and white or in color, etc. and the watcher is there to assess it. I went browsing through many photoblogs and I must say that some attract me more than others do. Taste is an important factor, and there seems to be no room for “principles”: everything is allowed.
Another thing that struck me was that people from different cultures that according to the newspapers should be hostile or suspicious towards each other, are instead very much appreciating and respecting. So I know for instance that Islam tends to see dogs as haram animals, but when I publish a photo of my dog I receive positive reactions from Islamic countries; Christian people also tend to express admiration for characteristically Islamic images such as the calligraphed name of Allah. Also I saw positive response from Iran to an Israeli photographer. Most of the bloggers are from the USA, but that doesn’t seem to be a hindrance for the Islamic photographers. Maybe it’s a bit too much said, but photoblogging can be a contribution for mutual understanding and world peace this way. I love it.
Overseeing the different kinds of pictures there is certainly difference in quality. Some posters don’t seem to “have it”, and will not acquire it, but continue to post their products. I’m aware one shouldn’t be too quick in such an assessment for it can also be myself who don’t have the needed competence to assess pictures. Others post amazing photos which could yield good profit if offered for sale. This raises the question: what makes a good photograph a good photograph? I think it depends on the kind of picture. I make a distinction between “event pictures”, “emotional pictures” and “esthetical pictures”. All three share that they evoke emotion. A picture of an angry mob demonstrating against something, a portrait of a lovely baby, and a beautiful landscape or flower are three characteristic examples of what I mean. The emotional picture doesn’t need (but mostly has) event- or esthetical criteria, as long as the emotion is evoked. But the other two must have, next to their representation value, also an emotional value. Many photos on the photoblog don’t evoke emotion in me but seem to do so in others, so that makes them valuable pics and I have to be careful to reject them as good pictures. It’s amazing that in this world where everybody always has critical or negative remarks on other people’s products, photobloggers seem to be aware of that. If they don’t like a photo, they simply don’t comment.
What is also striking is the widespread use of advanced and expensive camera equipment and the use of Photoshop programs to process the pictures. When I started to be caught by the digital photovirus (it really becomes a virus if you can put your photos on the pc) my first pics were made on my 1 MP mobilephone. Some of these pictures seem to gain in value thanks to their blurredness. Then, after half a year or so, I bought a 5 MP HP Photosmart and carried it my pocket wherever I went, a flow of nice pictures were the result, many of them I posted on my photoblog that I started. Then on a sad day my wife dropped the camera and it turned out almost to a divorce :-) but we got a brand new one because it happened within the warranty period! But I had to miss my camera for a couple of weeks, and via my brother I bought a second-hand Sony 4 MP for 90 Euros (new in 1991 it costed 750 Euros!), my wife kept the HP. The Sony has several advantages such as macro-possibility but is a bit slower in starting up and editing stored pictures. Anyway, now I’m looking with water in my mouth at the expensive cameras with which most of the bloggers work, with changeable lenses and so on. In my non-digital days I used such a camera for films which now has become almost worthless on the second hand market but has cost me the amount of the cameras that I’m craving for now.
There are two things that withhold me from purchasing: first the price. It’s something luxury exclusively for my own usage within the household family, and I’m not allowing myself to spend that amount for a “toy” for only myself, where I can do with a cheaper product with a bit less possibilities. The second reason is that a good photo isn’t dependent on the equipment it is made with: there have been made excellent pictures with mobilephones, and lousy ones with 1000 euro-cameras. The more sophisticated equipment only offers more possibilities, and let’s not talk about the processing computer programs! No Photoshop process can turn a bad photo into a good one, only into a nice arrangement of colors and forms. So let’s do a while with my “primitive” little camera that I can use without getting the image of a photomaniac by people around me who are not contaminated by the photovirus when I always have that black machine around my neck (the grapes are a bit sour you notice). Next time more, about my boat-and-family vicissitudes.

Last week before holidays…
This morning I went my daily morning round (15 minutes) with the dogs. Yes digs, plural, for we have one dog staying with us because his boss couldn’t use him during her holidays. Before him, we had another dog staying with us for the same reason. Our dog is going with us, just like last year. This dog staying now with us is a special friend of our dog, almost the same breed, as a pup our dog got familiar with him when visiting his house and walking in the park. Joris, our dog, is the only male dog accepted by the guest dog Jelle. Anyway, both dogs sometimes pull their leashes quite strongly, on top of that in opposite direction, when they smell something attractive. It reminded me of the time period I am in now: on the one hand: haste, haste on my job straightening out things that have been lying but must be completed and chased by students who want to have their points for their bachelors thesis to graduate before September, combined with filling in our holidays agenda for the coming period, and on the other hand the uncertain coming period combined with attention for my blogs (I feel I have less time for them than a couple of months ago) and my sailing boat. The 20th Janine is going to a one week stay in a conference centre of her “School for Practical Philosophy” and Menno and I are “free” to do things that men like to do without female interference. Before that, Wednesday the 18th Janine will go and collect my mentally retarded brother from the Belgian border village Bergeijk to join us (us, that is Janine, Menno, his 8 year old “stepsister” and the dog) on the boat (easy-going!) on which we are then sailing somewhere in Friesland. He will not stay overnight on the boat during the night so alternately Janine and I will drive home with him to sleep until Sunday the 22nd, when I will bring him back home. After Janine’s absence we will sail for another week or two, going somewhat further on open water (Ijsselmeer, Waddenzee), then we don’t have Wessel and the little girl with us so we are free to sail as roughly we can.

Now putting this all together it appears to me that these things are almost too much for me to handle in such a short time, that’s where my odd feelings come from I think. Take for instance only the sailing boat: in my head I’m busy fixing things up, e.g. there is no reef in the sails so I improvised a way to make the sails smaller when it’s demanded by the wind strength. I don’t have energy and time to look for “great pictures” for my photoblog, either. And guess what? I took a walk in the park near my office and a coot with her youngsters almost tried to creep into my camera! Isn’t that consolation! I show the picture on the photoblog (right upper side of this blog).

Also I got an e-mail today from my cousin in a far away country who needed to pour out his feelings about the socio-economic situation over there. His father emigrated shortly after W.W. 2, when many Dutch people emigrated. I tried to cheer him up a bit, but I found he is also right and he is with his family in the middle of it. I thought of my slogan “it’s better to light a candle than to curse darkness” but even Jesus cursed darkness, e.g. when he chased the merchants out of the Temple. Sometimes I think our world is the Temple and the big money hunters are the merchants to be chased out. Recently I read about the Mediterranian coast completely spoiled by building companies, even now tourists are rare (the newcomers are stayers) they continue building hotels, for a great deal to whitewash black money; these Mafiosi are really unscrupulous, and don’t hesitate to set fire in areas where they can’t build because of nature protection.

Well, it’s time to think of my own little world of reality again, there are still 2 theses to grade today.

The merchant, the army officer, the professor and the artist

I could also add: the priest or vicar, but I leave this out because the professions I mentioned deal with this world. The professions are ideal types of professions. It could be the result of a test on which you can score, indicating what type of professional you are. They are more or less mutually exclusive which means that they are “pure” and don’t tolerate each other’s features and characteristics. A good merchant is never a good artist, a good professor is very bad at leading an army platoon, etc.

I came to this distinction because of a discussion during a presentation of a dissertation team, in which the difference between a “manager” and an “entrepreneur” was discussed. I saw during that discussion the entrepreneur as the merchant, and the manager as the army officer. What does a manager do according to the management textbooks? Right: planning, leading, organizing and controlling, exactly what a high ranking army officer also is expected to do, just the same as a football coach is doing. The entrepreneur is both officer and merchant, which is not possible for a single merchant and a single officer. The officer would be accused for corruption and punished, and the merchant would loose real profit opportunities because now he is restricted by his organization, his employees and the law giving rules for enterprises: he cannot switch from trading in meals (restaurant) into car business overnight, and vice versa. But the true entrepreneur combines in a legal way both ideal types in him or her. The entrepreneur reflects the culture within which he can thrive, namely a democratic, tolerant culture. In the 17th Century the Netherlands were divided into the Arminians and the Gomarians. The Arminians recruited their members from the Amsterdam class of entrepreneurs with their V.O.C., and the intellectuals (the “professors”). Their spokesmen were Johan van Oldenbarneveldt (kind of “prime minister”), and the brothers De Witt, of whom Johan was also “prime minister”. They agreed with England that the Orange family had to be restricted in power. But the Gomarians uplifted the Orange family as their logo, and their orthodox Calvinist view on life and world was widespread among the common working class people. Although Oldenbarneveldt had been Maurits’ teacher and coach, Maurits was merciless in watching his beheading as a criminal. Maurits was a military, an officer, Oldenbarneveldt was a merchant and a professor. In fact, the Oranges made use of the Calvinist intolerance to gain power in collaboration with the army, damaging the economic interests of the merchants. The De Witt brothers were literally slaughtered by the “orthodox” mob, their bodies hung on poles, naked and cut open, while the “police” was watching, doing nothing. A situation as a consequence of co-operation between officers and vicars, who have to deal “not with this world”, according to Jesus’ words. We see the same now with imams calling for violent opposition to “worldly khafirs”, not realising that they also act worldly.
In those days an entrepreneur had far more characteristics of a merchant than he has today, today his job carries more and more the officer’s features. In fact, the pure merchant exists hardly anymore. But the “entrepreneur” carries a lot of his marking features: adventure, weighing risks and opportunities, striving for profit. The manager, like an officer, is more “neutral” and leaves the risk-taking strategy to his boss, the entrepreneur, who also is a manager (officer) more than he used to be. Democratic law makes his existence possible.
In fact, being an entrepreneur or manager in (post)modern times means that you have to be something of an artist and a professor, too. Not because these professions are worthwhile for their own sake but because they can be “profitable” (merchant) and can give “competitive advantage” (officer). In marketing and promotion/advertising campaigns the artist is “hired” and in product development and marketing the professor is also “hired”. Hiring means merchandise, and the modern merchant is aware that you have to hire as smartly as possible artists and professors to gain the biggest market share (officer), the best human resources (officer) to get the highest profit (merchant). The customer decides, this right is given to him by democracy, following the opportunities of technology and many, many services to be managed and merchandised by Covey-moulded managers and entrepreneurs. Alas, the customer doesn’t ask for many professor’s and artist’s interests that are not hired because the market doesn’t ask for them. They have to fight back with quality not measured by “meeting the expectations of the customer” but by “innate quality”, which is often not of this world, and is not for sale. You know what I mean, because it’s human, and any flesh-and-blood officer and merchant needs them, just like any real professor and artist needs merchant’s and officer’s traits.

Well, this was our ration of deliberation and rumination on an evaluation of a dissertation presentation by the younger generation :-)

Happy happenings

The audience during the general closing meeting when the prizes were awarded. The guy sitting next to his colleague, is me. The colleague wears a red shirt - he is young enough - I can be identified by the pink tie and the glasses.

Yes! The presentations were a big success again. I was very proud that one of the four groups that I had been coaching, won the second prize out of 32 teams. They reported about a feasibility study they had performed for the establishment of a new restaurant in a new quarter of Leeuwarden. It would be the only restaurant with the chosen formula in town, namely an "all-in buffet restaurant". After the presentation an interesting discussion developed between them and the owner of another restaurant who was in the audience. Although its location and formula was different one could feel she wasn't happy with the new restaurant (competition!) and tried to ridicule the attempt with critical remarks. One of her questions elicited the remark "stupid question" from one of the team members , it was hardly hearable but I heard it and subtracted a point for offending the audience. I can imagine that the boys and girls were proud of their achievement and that negative criticism wasn't welcome in their mood, but suppose he was a restaurant manager or kitchen chef dealing with a complaining guest and would call his remarks stupid? Anyway, the general atmosphere was fine: half a year of hard work was completed and "everybody happy". But the true assessment had to come yet: the assessment of their written reports, of course far more elaborated and detailed than their presentations.

This was one of the bright days in my work. For the rest, I do almost nothing else than coaching and assessing dissertations (also called theses) by students not participating in the new setup of team projects as described above. They are written and submitted by students who are behind, sometimes three years or longer. It's a tough job because these are not the brightest students or have ( in their eyes) good reasons not to pay too much attention to this obligatory part of their study: a job, a marriage. Sometimes straightforward fraud occurs. Most students are not that brilliant in written English (in spoken English many are more fluent than I am), so when I see a paragraph in well-groomed academic or literary English, I type in a sentence in Google and there the site appears from which the paragraph or whole chapter had been stolen. That's what I call stupid. The student is confronted with the evil deed, and has to do a lot more work than if (s)he would have to do without fraud: re-writing the whole dissertation without any sign of fraud.

The majority, however, is honest and submits useful work contributing to knowledge and skills in hospitality business.

My son Menno has also done an exam: he has acquired the yellow belt in judo, and he needs the achievement! Because of my presentations I couldn't be present but his mother was there to encourage him, with success.

Also positive was the amazing TV program about sustainable industry, about the new concept "from cradle to cradle": it means (I couldn't hardly believe my eyes and ears) that captains of industry such as the CEO of Ford in Detroit and Chinese industry developers all of a sudden became green preachers like Greenpeace, and you know why? because a very intelligent and entrepreneurial couple (maybe they are future Nobel Prize winners) of an architect and biologist had proven that waste-prevention can save them millions of dollars, by what they call "turning waste into food". Food for the natural ecosystem, or food for technology. One of the secrets is that you have to design a product in such a way that it can be given back to nature or industry. Working like this saves money, waste processing and co-operates with nature itself. Cradle-to-cradle, the miracle of the century, and sooo simple! If only you see it like profit itself, and get rid of the prejudice that eco is expensive, on the contrary, it now has proven to be cheaper! This holds for manufacturing and constructing industries, but I see problems for the agricultural industry: how to apply the cradle-tocradle-concept for cattle breeding and the growing of agricultural products? The TV program didn't mention it, but it's very important, for the same evening I saw how agricultural engineers had discovered that a big percentage of our CO2-emission in the Netherlands was produced because of lowering the ground water level in peat areas, to turn them into grass land. About half of Dutch grass land is acquired this way. The peat gets dry and starts to rot, which causes CO2. Very expensive measures must be taken to reduce this process, and at the same time maintaining the grassland. On my photoblog you can see an area where the ground water level has been increased again, and more such areas are needed, not only for CO2 reduction but also to acquire natural water bassins to avoid floods in cities and villages. However, the farmers are not happy with these developments and they still have great political influence, although the last 20 years they delivered much of their previous power.

Exciting education experiences

A good hospitality consultant has to know how this is done, too! Look at www.chn.nl (English version)

Yesterday I cycled in my waterproof rainsuit the usual route to and from my work, through some tropical showers, the outskirts of the flood that was poured out over the UK at the same time. It was an exciting experience thanks to my waterproof clothing. The disadvantage of it is that after half an hour firmly pedaling, it gets wet on the inside, not by rain but by sweat. So you have to relax on your bike to avoid this as much as possible, which is difficult when you bike against a strong wind, but this wasn’t the case yesterday. It’s a weird week, this morning I’m supposed to prepare for presentations that will be held this afternoon by 3d year students. In a team of four to six students they have been working on improvement projects at small and medium-sized companies in the hotel- and restaurant branch, the so-called “hospitality industry”, I will asses them together with a colleague, after having coached them during six months. I did this before for three times so I more or less know what’s expected from me. It’s amazing how medium- and small sized businesses are so busy with their daily fuss that they are not able to retreat from time to time to reconsider what they are doing: is my concept still working, or is it outdated? What is the competition doing and how will I respond? What novelties and innovations are important for me? How do my customers feel about my services? What menu items are much asked for and what could I abandon or do I have to change for better profit? Etc.

I think it would be good for employment and for training / education purposes, as well as for service quality, if this kind of improvement projects would be made standard for all small businesses. It’s not difficult or complicated all you need is a group of coached students, working along a systematical path:
1. diagnose company and its business-environment by talks and research;
2. establish a point of improvement, measure its output at that moment;
3. design a way or method to improve;
4. implement the improvement;
5. measure the output after or during implementation.

In 9 out of 10 cases this will yield success, as our series of projects clearly demonstrate. It’s also exciting and motivating for students who are in their roles not as trainees or as learners, but as true experts, and in comparison with many entrepreneurs they are experts because they just ended and/or are in the middle of theory- and model building and analysis methods courses, whereas their clients are of course more experienced in running an real-life business. If you would follow theory and booklets in everything you do in a small business you would be bankrupt within a couple of weeks because you are supposed to immediately select the possibilities of your situation that suit you most and which could be totally different from what the books pre-suppose. But retreat and read is necessary to check whether you indeed selected the right available possibilities. Checklists and models are the diagnosing kit, bookkeeping and administration are the dashboard of the engine, customers and money are the fuel.

I have four teams this afternoon, in total there are 32 teams presenting their projects to an audience of students, lecturers and client companies in different rooms of course. Before and after there are keynote speakers and other celebration activities. I’m sure it will be a success just like the previous times.

Ad Deum, qui laetificat iuventutem meam

Last Sunday my 9-year old son and I went to out little church in Burgum, the St.-Martin’s Church. It's more a chapel than a church (see above). I returned to the R.C. church a year ago, and this year my son had been baptized and received his 1st Holy Communion. When we entered, we saw a whole group of men also entering the church from the altar’s side. They were dressed in black cassocks with white shirts on it, and they went to the choir’s place. I whispered in my son’s ear that it was a visiting choir because I was sure of that now. After a minute (we had taken our places) another stranger entered the altar stage: an old man, leaning on a stick, the priest, we didn’t see him before yet. He looked very stern and strict, and I feared for an old-fashioned service in which the rules of the Church would be stressed (again). I estimated his age on around 80 years and I never saw a priest with such an apostle-like appearance before. Despite his stick he had a strong and impressive posture, not a gram of superfluous fat, you could expect only old muscles under his garb. We were sitting in the second row so we could see everything. His hands which he would be using during the Mass emphasizing what he said, were beautiful and strong, the kind of hands old masters like Rembrandt and Michelangelo used as examples for their studies. His face, like I said, was stern and strict, imagine how St. Peter must have looked like in peoples’ minds and you have an idea. His hair was still fully present (unlike mine) and silver-white. He made fear for the worst, when he gave silent directions to the four Mass Servers, boys of around 15 years of age, that they should go elsewhere, not standing in their right places as they were: they were supposed to sit down that moment at the beginning, on their chairs at the right side. Then he climbed the altar, leaning on his stick and waited for Mrs. Jansen (fictitious name), the assistant-pastor, who would do the welcome word. Mrs. Jansen welcomed the priest and the choir and she announced what was supposed to be known (but I didn’t read it in the parochial guide, my fault), that we would have a Gregorian Mass. After her, the priest, I would almost say: “opened his mouth and spoke, saying:” “Well, that wasn’t a very good management of the stage for a start”, referring to the four Mass Servers on their wrong places. But he said it with a voice and tone one wouldn’t have expected: relaxed, mildly. Then he continued by referring to the special day it was, emphasizing that we had come together because it was the xth Sunday before Pentecost – which wasn’t true, many people had come because it was a Gregorian Mass – their xth Sunday could also be celebrated in their “own” churches in the area -, also in such a way that a slight irony was noticeable. Anyway, the Holy Mass started.

Introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui laetificat iuventutem meam.

(I will ascend to the altar of God, to God who is the joy of my youth). When I had about my son’s age I was a Mass servant myself, and these were the words I heard hundreds of times, as the very first words of every mass, spoken by the priest at the foot of the altar, standing left of me, me kneeling at his right side, the audience of faithful behind us. I never understood these words, because God isn’t supposed to be only one's youth’s joy. But I never asked an explanation to parent, teacher or priest, I took it as it was. Later on I read translations in Dutch, saying “to God who is my joy since my youth” but I wasn’t satisfied by such “improvements” of the original words, dating back to AD 200 or so. Later again, I was 61 years of age and returned back to the Church, I discovered their true meaning: these words were intended for me personally, period. In my youth I had tasted the benefits of faith, and now God had called me back, as a lost son, or as a shepherd looking for his one lost sheep out of his flock of hundreds. That’s it, I don’t know why and how, I only feel it’s that way. I can only hope (and I think it's true) my son feels the same non-deliberated or reasoned “radiation” as I felt at that time. The words were not spoken this time, liturgy has changed since 1955. But I heard the old, Gregorian songs again, and sung them by heart, literally and metaphorically, because I remembered their texts, their melody and also their meaning because my parents had given me the advantage of a classical education with Greek and Latin. And I realised at the same time how Latin had estranged the faithful from Rome because only a small elite knew it, and if songs and prayers are in a strange language they cannot arise from the heart. That’s the other side of the coin, the one side is that for those who understand it – the priest also said it – it is a beautiful language, very well suited for religious expression.

De profundis clamavi ad Te Domine, Domine, exaudi vocem meam.

From the depths I cried to Thee Lord, Lord, listen to my voice. (I love Mozart's version of the psalm). This psalmtext was the theme of the Mass. Clamavi, said the priest, (pronounced with the “a” not in the English way but as it is pronounced in all other languages), isn’t that expressing its meaning far better that the Dutch “ik heb geroepen”? (the English “I cried" also expresses its meaning very well) There is something of “shouting” in it. I love Latin.
It was time for the sermon. The priest cam down and took place in a chair, and so for the first time in my life I experienced a priest or vicar holding a sermon while sitting. I must say, it was a good experience. The sitting posture gives dignity and wisdom, more than the standing posture which gives a rather “exclaiming” and prophesizing idea. Especially this priest, looking so much like St. Peter or a medieval bishop, spread an air of wisdom around him, which filled the whole church. He spoke slowly and with a firm and clear voice with a Southern accent, from around Roermond I guess (my sister lives there). He spoke about the gospel of that Sunday, Jesus visiting the house of a Pharisee, and how He dealt with His host and a sinful woman coming in, dropping tears on His feet which she wiped off with her hair. It was very impressive, although the priest didn’t say anything extra loud, he kept many silences in his story. It was for everybody as if (s)he was present at the event.
At the end of the Mass he announced that he was going to sing the words that never are said anymore in modern liturgy: ”Ite, Missa est”, followed by the people: “Deo Gratias” (“Go, the Mass has ended”, and: “Thanks to God”). I remember of course the jokes we schoolboys made about these words J. Then he forgot something because he wished everybody a good Sunday, and got a reminder form his “disciples”: of course the blessing, which was done of course, together with a small sermon.
Then we sang the beautiful old Maria-song “Salve Regina, Mater Misericordiae”, and went home or to the parish house for coffee.
After the Mass I praised my son for his endurance, the songs must have meant a sacrifice for him (although my wife told me otherwise, that it was only a pose), and that day it seemed he needed to express (much) more attachment to me than usual which made me happy.

The last days I ‘m also a bit annoyed about the “right-wing” declarations from the official church in Rome, I have to find my way and place in it. So I have problems with women not being allowed at priesthood, (although Mrs. Jansen would be a perfect priest), with divorced people not allowed to the Holy Sacrament, and with sudden exclamations such as I read in the paper from a Roman, Italian cardinal, that Catholics are “not allowed” to donate money to Amnesty International, because this very, very, Christian-acting organisation gives help to raped girls in the South of Sudan where everybody knows how a horrific hell is going on. Many of these girls have an abortion apparently with the approval and maybe help of Amnesty International (although A.I., as far as I know, doesn’t supply help on the spot but gives moral , influential and financial support), and that’s enough reason for the Vatican to issue an official declaration like this. I comfort myself with the thought that it’s not the princes and the Holy Father, the bishops and the priests who judge, they are not supposed to be moral judges but spriritual leaders and sometimes they might think they can stand between God and mankind, instead of guiding men to God.

An example of how wrong religious leaders can be is the way the famous 17th-century philosopher and scholar Spinoza was expelled from both his Jewish community and the Christian community of Amsterdam. By strict reasoning he concluded that God was in everything, an idea now widespread but at the time a blasphemy, because God was in those days a man in a place called heaven from where He ruled the world and the universe, which he created long ago. For me, God is in everything and all that has been created is an expression of His omnipresence. This makes one humble and happy at the same time, and aware of all the mistakes men can make abusing His omnipresence, including oneself, not merely including, but especially focused on oneself. Please Your Excellency Mr. Cardinal, go and visit an abbey of the Benedictines for some time (they are the school example of hospitality) and listen what the brother who is cleaning the corridor has to say or better, has to keep silent and take an example.

I’m glad I can share this with my blog, Those who have eyes to read, may read it. So mote it be.

About Fryslân

On my photoblog I got a comment from a co-blogger who congratulated me with living in such a beautiful countryside. I replied: I love it, indeed. I came here for settlement 15 years ago, and I saw around me the illustrations from "Ot and Sien" a series of childrens' book from my childhood. It seemed as if time had been frozen for 75 years: the houses, the pastures, etc. The only thing is that it is flat everywhere, no hills. Sometimes you find yourself in a kind of green prairy-landscape, other times amidst small fields cut by oak tree-lanes, or on a lake (many Germans come here to sail). I could fill a whole paper about this part of the Netherlands. Let me give you some highlights:
Fryslân or Friesland is the only province in our country with an own language. This language, Frisian, stems from the time the Frisians, the Franks and the Saxons populated our country. The Franks and the Saxons adopted Dutch, the Frisians kept their own language, which is also affiliated to English because together with the Saxons and the Danish they conquered the greater part of the U.K. in the early Middle Ages. Many words sound alike, or almost alike, in Frisian and English, however written differently. Frisian is spoken by some 300,000 people, and is the second official language in the Netherlands. The province is renown around the world because of the Frisian cattle; there is no country in the world without its offspring. Economically, agriculture is the main branch of industry, but since around 1960 tourism has become at least as important. Thanks to tourism, we can maintain a lot of traditional things such as traditional round- or flat-bottom ships (their keel is replaced by leeboards because of the shallow waters), and the costly maintenance of accessibility of water areas (campsheetings, bridges, mooring places etc.). Friesland (or Fryslân) has a number of very beautiful small towns, next to its capital Leeuwarden with also a beautiful centre that unfortunately has been modernized too fast on a number of places, in Leeuwarden’s striving to keep up with the Jones (New York, Paris, Shanghai J). To be mentioned are Dokkum (where Boniface has been killed by the heathen), Bolsward, Franeker Here used to be a university until Napoleon’s time. It also contains the famous Planetarium of Eyse Eysinga, an amateur astrologer who built a completely functioning solar system in his house driven by sophisticated wooden clockworks, it still functions today very accurately, it astonished the scholars of those days (somewhere in the eighteenth century). The ceiling of his living room is reserved for the planets turning around the sun, each in its own pace. Some of them make one circle around the sun in more than a human lifetime, which indicates the accuracy of the clockwork! Then there are Drachten (grown too fast in modern times to have an own character with an old centre – now they are digging out an old canal that first had been filled up to make the road broader, in order to get back something of the old times), Heerenveen (same story, famous for its soccer club) and Harlingen (harbour to the Waddenzee in open connection with the North Sea).
Friesland has been much larger than it is now, stretching from the Belgian coast all the way North to Denmark in the early Middle Ages. Soon the counts of Holland emerged as Frisian opponents on one side, and the Saxons on the other side. The Frisians had their own kings and had to yield to foreign powers eventually. In Germany and South Denmark their language is only a kind of curiosity, spoken by a handful of people, our Dutch province is the only area where it is still common language next to Dutch (in the countryside only spoken to people from outside Friesland).
Of course there is much more to tell about Fryslân, its history, its musea, the people, etc., but it will not suit a blog like this. I can refer to some websites:

http://www.drf.nl/images/1995/Zomer/index.html

http://www.hartvanfriesland.nl/engels.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friesland

http://www.frieslandholland.nl/uk/

John is rich, Peter is poor and that's John's fault

G 8

The World top conference has ended. Which gives me, regardless of its outcome, the opportunity to say something about the constant demonstrations and accusations against the “rich world”. I saw an African lady, a Noble Prize winner, declaring for TV that the rich countries constantly hide themselves behind the cop-out that the governments of the poor countries and the corruption prevent effective aid programs for the poor. This wasn’t an excuse, and she advocated a multi-billion dollar gift for Africa.

People are always inclined to find simple solutions and scapegoats. There are rich countries and there are poor countries, and if the rich ones would give some of their wealth to the poor, the problem is solved. It’s their fault, so they have to give. There are several arguments against this simple view, but it seems as if people are only proclaiming their view without listening to arguments contra. Every argument contra is wiped from the table: see above. Let’s have a look at some arguments:
In very poor countries, with a low education level among the people and powerful family and clan bonds every large-scale aid program is deemed to fail, because you always have to involve the local chiefs whose first concern is to preserve their influence and existing social (family) patterns. In Europe and USA we are used to bureaucratic rules formulated by Max Weber. These rules allocate the greatest power to those who actually contribute most to economic and social welfare, within a democratic system with separated government functions. Poor countries allocate power according to birth, gender, clan membership, sequence of birth. The authorities in these countries see Western aid programs primarily as a means to get money, not to get economic development. The result of this attitude, namely the suffering of their peoples, they put on the blame account of the rich countries who “don’t give enough”.
Europe has been blamed for colonizing a large number of countries who now are called “poor”. Colonization is a great evil that now belongs to the past. Yet, there are still action groups who demand monetary compensation because the West “has become rich thanks to slavery”. Then I want compensation for the Netherlands from the Spanish, the Romans, the Austrians, the French and the Germans who all once exploited Holland as part of their empires.
It’s NOT pointing at “countries” and demanding compensation from them, but first of all one has to point at themselves. If you are government member of a poor African country, it’s you who has to arrange things in such a way that prosperity is aimed at for your people. This is a “law” as old as humanity itself. It’s not the countries, it’s the people and their culture. Although authorities always want to stress that a country is an expansion of an inhabitant’s personality and identity. People should use their countries to pursue what is the right thing to do when it comes to mass operations like foreign aid and development campaigns. When the Dutch left Indonesia as their colonizers, the Javanese took over their role in colonizing the rest of the Indonesian archipelago. Without Dutch / British / Portuguese colonization Indonesia would never have existed, instead there would have been now a number of smaller countries just like in Europe. Even Java consisted in at least three different kingdoms, autonomously operating before the colonization era. For the colonizers, huge territories were more efficient to control. The problems this gave we see in Iraq, where all Iraqi people consider themselves in the first place as Shiite, Sunnite, Kurd, etc. and in the second place as Iraqis. Of course when Iraq is one “state” with uniform laws, then it’s they (their group) who have to be in power, and not the others. Iraq lacks now a strong leader such as Sukarno in Indonesia, to become one nation. Maybe Saddam Hussein was such a leader, but far less sophisticated than the erudite and elegant Sukarno, when we saw Saddam provoke every other power to withstand him instead of practicing diplomacy. In the USA we see that they have been a British colony (or a series of colonies) and afterwards we see that they themselves have been approaching each other and co-operating to become the country they are now, instead of constantly fighting each other. Of course there were armed struggles but these didn’t determine the result.
When we look at many poor countries we see charlatans as their presidents, constantly blaming and pointing to others, and doing everything except giving their people directions and guidelines of how they could develop as a nation. When the Pope visits South America, Mr. Chavez takes immediate opportunity to shout that the Roman Catholic Spain violently imposed Catholicism to the Indians, something that maybe happened 450 years ago. Uttering this opinion now, doesn’t help poor Indians at all and is only intended to show Mr. Chavez to the people as a friend of the Indians, exhorting them to forswear their faith, totally according to the Marxist principle that religion is the opium of the people.

Yes, people of the demonstration circus around “globalization”, you are in good company.