JOYS AND WETNESS OF LONDON MARATHON 2008

Variety of humanity, is the phrase one could describe April 13th, 2008.
A Sunday that was cold, foggy, wet yet so full of heat, passion, frenzy and attitude. We should learn NOT to judge life by weather but, spirit.

Runners of all sizes, manners and age.

FRIENDLY AND HELPFUL STEWARDS...
Now and then I would see a face I knew, yet so slow was I (in glee ) that the straggling runner would be gone. Take Sofia. I hadn't seen her for ages and before i knew (this is Sofia) she was off...oh shit. Too late. Cheer, watch, or take photos? The other hidden, mini marathon.

A day called people...

THESE MASSAGE GIVING VOLUNTEERS FROMALZHEIMER SOCIETY OFFERED FREE SERVICES TO THE RUNNERS.
Funnily...
One of my main intentions was to cheer and photograph the Maasai Warriors who had been all over the news for days, yet failed. As soon as the Sextet appeared chanting and doing their small Morani step dances,
I was spell bound, screeching and screaming like a maniac, forgetting I had a camera. By the time I remembered, my hands were shaking like a hungry rattle snake and they, like Sofia, were gone. Doing a marathon is not easy, I tell you.

KENYANS : SAMMY, BRENDA, DENNIS, WINNIE, KENTE(who also raps), EDWIN. PROUDLY WITH THEIR FLAG AFTER WITNESSING MARTIN LEL WINNING THE MARATHON AGAIN THIS YEAR.
Yes.
I grew up amongst the Maasais and being shit "scared" of them in Arusha, north Tanzania. They had a reputation for short tempers. Once I witnessed a fight between a Maasai and a Hehe (another warrior tribe who had fiercely fought the Germans during colonisation under Chief Mkwawa
in 1890’s in South Tanzania). We all circled them watching, stupefied expecting kilograms of blood, to be honest. In the ensuing scuffle and battle, the Maasai was so angry and swooning that he was drama in itself. Guess what ? There was no fight; as we ended up laughing at the unfinalised, spectacle. From that day in early 1970's, I concluded like any impressionable boy, that Maasai were better at killing lions more than foolish boxing.

CHARITY FOR CHILDREN WITH LEUKEMIA...

The London Marathon presented humanity at best.

RICHARD ALL THE WAY FROM BOLIVIA
TAKING VIDEOS...

The cheering voices of especially ladies, friends urging and egging friends and family members on, people with disabilities, those who had lost energy but kept trekking mouths open, knees almost sagging and breaking, all manner of artistic and trapeze clowns, happy ones, sad ones, old and young; middle aged; black, white, brown; athletic or frail, all here in multi-layers, en masse.
RUNNER GRAHAM MAIRS, FROM MANCHESTER.
SNAP OF HIM AND MYSELF BY HIS WIFE. HAPPY TO HAVE FINISHED RACE IN ONE PIECE.

It was especially great to see the onlookers tagging in the rain, watching the runners running in (and against) the rain.

DAY OF FEET , WATER, PANTING AND UMBRELLAS.


I recalled when I used to run long distance; the feelings that go thru you: wanting to give up, in pain, fighting and enjoying at the same time. At times you swear you shall never do it again; somehow, like a career sinner, you return.
To life...

Pics from Jazzmoss album launch in Greenwich London...

Families, fans and friends of Global Fusion.

Families and friends of Jazzmoss and Global Fusion. This is basically the food crew who made all the grub possible. Talitha Le Marchand, chief chef(third from left and heavily pregnant) with Gaz and Sanchia Le Marchand(in red hat).

It is time to leave for bass player Liran Donin. Even the light has had enough.

Alex with Cassian Le Marchand; the bar guys who had a busy afternoon, did a great service AND forgot to smile.

Kaz with Essence Kasozi, his singer-songwriter spouse and fantastic musician/ performer was present too.

Algerian singer songwriter, Farid Adjazair, whose album, has been produced by Global Fusion Music and Arts did not miss. Here seen with Andre Mathurin, St. Lucia jazz-pop bass player; plus your blogger in blue.

This Weekend's Profile: Meet WRITER URSULA TROCHE

CONVERSATION with Ursula; Cheerful Poet/Writer of Consciousness

When Ursula Troche was only six years old growing in Löhne, a small German town she used to be upset by the way fellow school mates mistreated a young Turkish girl. They teased, bullied, called her names and did horrific things to her, but at that time Ursula did not understand what racial discrimination was. “I just felt emotional about it…” That crucial experience was the beginning Journey of Discovery and Human Awareness for this London based exuberant writer, photographer and singer who starts her PhD degree this season.


As I photograph her at north London’s beautiful Clissold Park, she is constantly referring to her Trinity philosophy. She always sees people in connection with each other. In her recent self published poems (“Embraceable”) she has a picture taken in Slovakia where the railway station designs reminds her of African painting. Being of Polish, Puerto Rican and German origins, she always sees things in that cultural tripod mix. As she talks and recites her new poem on Nelson Mandela's visit to unveil his statue in London, I realise that the world needs more individuals like this. Ursula is one of the most cheerful, carefree, optimistic ladies I have ever known, who no matter what, rarely moans about the weather, or goes into a self-pitiful trips and insists that “she prefers dealing with the good rather than the pain in us…”
Here follows our chat.
FM- I am going to start with a very taboo question. Many Germans I have met abroad are ashamed of the country’s horrible Nazi past, subtly embarrassed to reveal their origins….
Ursula- Perhaps I should write about a poem about that. I used to have a friend from Ghana who used to say many Africans are constantly trying to get rid of their accents here in Europe. It is not just Africans and Germans. In the days the Irish used to be called dogs here in England their accent was teased. Everyone has hang-ups. This is one of humanity’s major problems.
FM-Your writing is very honest and straightforward. No gimmicks…
Ursula – Writing honestly and straight to the point is almost a kind of survival technique. The system we live in is often so suffocating that the only real and lasting liberation one – or at least I – can find is by discussing all the subjects that the system neglects or distorts. I want to make space for and give opportunity for liberation.
FM-“Embraceable” has no ISBN number. Are you rebelling? It is such beautiful work
Ursula – I wish ‘Embraceable’ had an ISBN number. When I put it together, I found it too much hassle to get one. I should really do it, get it reprinted or, ideally, find a publisher for it.
FM-Most poets and authors start writing early. You seem to have begun late; after living in London for seven years.
Ursula- I had only really started in 1998 because in the previous year, I had finished my degree in Politics and African Studies. It was a conservative experience actually and while writing my essays I had to resist that. Then when the degree was over, I sort of continued my resistance with poetry. A motto then and now for me was ‘I write what I like’ (Steve Biko).

FM-There are 23 poems with certain re-occurring themes.
Dance, People, Race and Culture, Being female, Freedom and Responsibility.
Are these your major concepts?
You don't dwell on the usual predictable topics of young active women : personal love, feminist politics, etc. Are you above that?
Ursula- Yes, the themes in my booklet are definitely my typical themes because these are the themes that move me, upset me, inspire me: these are the themes I live with. If these are not the usual topics one would expect of a woman like me it’s because I don’t want to repeat what’s already been said or written about. Further I am looking for more depth and engagement when discussing what happens in society. So I have this urge to speak out in the way I do because sometimes it feels like nobody else does. I’ve been involved in debates around identity and all the things you’ve mentioned because it just sort of happens to me that way because these are my experiences.
My main concerns in life are to do my contribution to re-establish an equilibrium (i.e. equality) in society that has been missing for so many centuries. And many of us are suffering from the absence of this equilibrium. Here I want to show in particular how everybody can and should get active, how I as a white person and a foreigner relate to and engage with issues to do with race relations and why understanding, dialogue and some kind of Afro-centricity is necessary for untainted life.
FM-Are you a writer by choice or by accident?
Ursula- I am definitely a writer by choice. I may have started off ‘accidentally’ but I feel that, as I approach deeper levels of liberation and more urgent longings for a revolution, I will continue. Also I think that doing this sort of thing is the way I can contribute to the overall struggle for liberation, for humanity and harmony. This is my contribution and ever since I have enjoyed the discussions and friends I have made as a result of practising my approach.
FM-You have created and raised crucial historical issues in the “Overstayer-Without a Viza” poem.
“I sometimes think that of all the African peoples
To reach Europe
It must have been the Yorubas who arrived first
Because the words Yoruba and Europe sound so alike …”
You claim the word Europe comes from the Nigerian tribe word “Yoruba…” Where did you get this argument?
Ursula- Europe =Yoruba: whether it comes from my head or creativity? When I write I seem to be really inspired, so thoughts definitely come from a place beyond me but I pick them up and put them to paper. I am fully aware that these are unusual and unexpected issues, especially coming from somebody like me, but this is just why I find it so important: 1. to get people together, 2. to get them thinking along different lines, 3. to dismantle the hegemony of distorted thinking that is the cause of divisions and inequality.
FM-You say in your blurb that you do research on what you write. Which of the poems was researched in this collection?
Ursula-The poems weren’t researched as such. But my research is on the same topics. Beyond engaging with and initiating innovative debates, I also deal with the issues academically because I don’t want to miss opportunities to dismantle that hegemony of distorted thinking, as I had put it.
But before any research, all the issues I discuss just ‘come out of me’, simply because they are so important.

FM-You also sing, paint and do photography. Which is more important?
Ursula – I haven’t painted for long although I like it a lot and will come back to it when I have more time. Singing is something I’d like to do more. I do sing my poetry, so I have a partial outlet there. Photography is probably what I mostly do these days apart from poetry, because I like to catch the beauty of nature, the rhythms and harmonies of natural life.
FM-How many copies did you publish and how can readers get hold of this book?
Ursula– For a start I have only had 500 copies printed. I should start putting them into shops, because at the moment I am just distributing them myself. So I could be contacted. But let’s talk about it, I could leave some at Centre prise Bookshop in good old Dalston (East London) for example. Further poetry-collections are also planned.
Contact Ursula for readings or speaking engagements :
ursulatroche@yahoo.co.uk.
And if you are more curious about Ursula's writing please read here.

Read another recent Profile.

This Weekend's Profile...

Michael Nicholas Camera Man from Denmark
And...Why we cant live without Photographers



I just said Michael Nicholas is from Denmark, but he has only been there for a couple of years. I knew Michael when we were part of a fabulous teenage gang called the Gringos growing on the highlands of East Africa. Most kids stuck together because they came from similar ethnic roots or communities but we were different. We were sporty and adventurous. We came from sparse, varied backgrounds and none of us was similar to the other. Even the Spanish word “Gringos” which is used in Latin America for “foreigners” was not adopted consciously. We took it probably to assert our own special (teenage) world that we had created.


Michael was one of the very few mixed race kids at Ilboru Secondary School as such was subtly teased. All sorts of names were used to poke fun at mixed race youngsters: Coloureds. Machotara. Mulatos. Tshombe. Mzungu. Kaburu. Neither fish nor flesh. Half-castes. I find it appalling that today many people still apply this medieval, dinosaur word: Half-caste. The brilliant Guyanese poet John Agard asks in his poem “Halfcaste” whether when light and shadow mix in the sky it is a half caste weather.
Good question. It is the abhorring caste system in India which contributed to this terrible vocabulary that stems from the inhuman class system that is till prevalent there.


....In Gringos, Michael found safe haven, identity, heaven. In Gringos there was no discrimination. We loved fashion. Bell-bottoms. Fun and Girls. Motown. Soul music. The 1970’s. We danced to James Brown music; we were stylish and watched movies during weekends. We did well academically too.


Michael Nicholas was cool, always with something nice to say to folks; a female at his side, witty, intelligent.
I quote one of his poems to a lucky girl:
"It looks so smooth,
When you shake your hips,
With that move,
Makes me want, to prove,
That you are,
My lady..."
Fast forward 37 years later.
Working in ships, having travelled a lot, a father; in his spare time, the camera a formidable companion. Check out few samples from a large collection of unseen footage.




.

Unpleasant Experiences…

Maybe I should title this The Theme of Ruthlessness; but, that is too one sided. Experiences are there to remind us.
Unpleasant incidents are teachers. Judges. Saints. Jugglers.
They come and go. They shall always B there.
So I pleaded. He said NO!
I ridiculed him. He didn’t FLINCH!


I turned to my friend the camera and snapped hoping to remember the occasion. Posterity.
He said calmly : “ I will take yours, too.”
That got me thinking of a rock, a cliff, a wall which you puSH and end up hurting your own SHoulders.
Slippery eel.

I could only wallow in self pity and philosophy: “What comes around goes around…”
Ever spat to the sea?
Spit to the ocean and your tiny, tiny speck is nothing to the gargantuan distance of waters, it is consumed. Sucked by a larger family of liquids.
“I am just doing my job,” He muttered, going away, leaving, carrying my anger, venom, frustration…
He smacked me with a packing ticket, 80 pounds (160 Dollars) in total, REDUCTION OF 50% IF PAID WITHIN 14 DAYS…

It was like this.
Sunny Tuesday afternoon, September 18th, 2007. I am in Clissold Park jogging and exercising, the sun is shining; it is still very green; early Autumn.
I parked, paid £2 for an hour.
Finished and sweaty, I was about to drive off when I saw this crow pouncing on a pigeon. A rare scene. No sooner was I about to snap, than the crow had a change of mind ( or so, assuming )…I was left with a pigeon and some purple flowers.
Then I turned to see the man in uniform sticking a ticket fine on my vehicle.
“Hey!”
I am running now. Desperation. I was just by the corner. Please.
“Even if it is ONE minute, you still get it, mate…”
He was busy scribbling.
We are living in the era of clicking buttons. Starts from simple things- like text messages, ending relationships via emails; downloading the good and the bad, to buttons that are switched to shock, awe and bomb. Done. Nuclear age. Done. Terrorism.

Around us curious onlookers watched, a bloke shook his head in sympathetic, bewildered, exasperation as the parking attendant scooped out his camera and started snapping the car and me. I read a sentence on the Penalty Charge sheet that screamed on the machine’s windshield:
“Photography may be used for evidence purposes…”
(In case a driver refuses to pay. But I wasn’t refusing. I was merely requesting consideration; circumstantial conditions…)
He won.
I got the fine. Ruthlessness won.
They get quotas, it is not just about right or wrong, a passing Lady reminded.
“You may publish me in your Book…put me in your Website. " The Man declared strolling away.
Wrong Words, Tough Guy.
B L O G.

A Saturday Afternoon with Mariam...

This Weekend's Profile

Mariam has that "rare something" that photographers love. She does not have to pose or prepare for the shot.


Mariam's body, eyes, vibes, countenance, rhythm, manner and moods...all sink, swim and dance with the camera. She doesn't have to do anything. It is all there given to her by nature's creation. Light and shadows are her mates.



Mariam does not have to dress too much (it is like those folks who do not have to speak too much to prove they are right) She has that "hard to find" magic you see in the clouds; in a glass of milk, in dew, in trees, in your happiest hour; in someone's infectious jokes that make you laugh.
Something.
Do you remember the song?


And....

Mariam hails from Uganda, in East Africa surrounded by Lake Victoria. It is no wonder this place is called the pearl of Africa. A pearl is a unique gem.