photo madness

for the first time in my life i have meet people from all over the world. it has left me with curiosity that i think will be incurable. can i get enough. different aromas. different flavours. we are truely a mutli specture of sorts. each unique in its own way. just the way it was supposed to be.






it has been decided. more pictures will be shown.

iz like thizz

iz like thizz...

that is the spanish acsent for it's like this. this phrase echoes through my mind daily. why. i dont know. it just does. perhaps because the girl that kept on saying it has become a very dear friend of mine. i miss her already. she has gone back to spain. her time in montpellier is finish. but it has taught me something. or should i rather say it reminds me daily of a valuable lesson i have learned. this is what i have learned in the last eight weeks that i have been away from home. people is what makes the world go round. i always enjoyed interaction with different people. but being among different culture. languages. races. what a fabulous world we live in. the Creature really knew what He was doing. and i am eternally grateful to be a part of it. all you sceptics out there. wake up. it is time to embrace life around you. there is so much to live for. yes. there are wars. yes there is crime. yes we are all victims. will it ever stop. no. i dont think so. am i too have been a victim of crime. i too have been violated. robbed. attacked. but there a more out there. stick your head out the window for a change. and live. you only have a couple of years anyway. and then do you know where you are going after that. but lets leave that for now. back to the people. being in europe among foreign student form all over made me realise the beauty of diverity. everyone adds a different spice. a new flavour. i stand amazed at what can be done if all stand toghether. perhaps as students we dont have the cares of the world yet upon our shoulder. prehaps that is exactly what the world needs. i dont know. all i know is that these guys and girls have something to offer. they have something to give. we laugh and cry together about the same things. thats what makes us human i guess. we share our views and have our opinions. about war. abortion. the church. you name it. it has been dicussed. at the end we all smile and go our different ways. another demi-citron. another pastis. and all is forgotten. we move on to the next pub. the next bar. the next club. life moves on and we move with it. no stopping. no arguing. no fighting. no time for that. cause life waits for nobody. we can handle the pace. we set the pace. i have gained a lot of respect for many new countires. cultures. their people. we are all the same really. on the surface we seem different. but if you scrath you will see. its all the same. fears. hurts. emotions. joys. happy endings. go. go. go. are you living with your eyes open. are you allowing life to pass you by. or are you grabbing hold of it with both hands. an oppotunity of a lifetime is lost in a lifetime of opportunity.

a moveable feast

if you are lucky enough to have lived in paris as a young man then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you for paris is a movebale feast. these words has echoed through me ever since the first day i read them. words spoken and written by hem. a master of words. inspirational. it struck a cord in my heart. i thought to myself. i want to be able to say words like that one day. and here i am. living my own moveable feast. can i ask for anything else. to be able to create my own feast. sure. am i doing it. you bet. back to hem. he wrote this book years after living in paris. it is written in memoir style. a must read. i am still trying to find a first edition. perhaps shakespear and co in paris is saving their last copy for me. j'espere. i wonder what papi would have said about me writing about him like this. over time i have formed my own idea what he meant by these words. i will forever continue to form and change ideas concerning this. but at the moment this is me. i think this. where is home. what is home. do you have only one. is it a place. is it people. is it a concept. perhaps all of the above. that is what i am living to find out. sure. family is tres important. so are friends. what about meeting new people. new family. can you limit yourself to your geographic area. not in todays world i guess. i have been away for some weeks now. i have seen a lot. i have lived a lot too. seen things. learnt things. tasted things. experienced things. i realise that there are so many explorations waiting. places. people. countries. cultures. will i ever be able to see it all. will there be time. to see. to write. to reflect. what then. where is home. what hass happened to it. what am i saying. home is where the heart is. home continues to move. whether you like it or not. you have a choice. float or grab hold of life. make it your own. thanks vix. carry the experiences in your heart. both good and bad. life without regret. move with the feast. ce la vie.

what is reality

i found myself traveling. traveling the french country side with my swedish travel partner. we think and enjoy the same things. she starts my sentences and i finish hers. a lot of fun. especially if you only know each other for a couple of days. anyways. we went to a small catalane town on the coast. truely amazing experience. this day was a spiritual experience for me. i found myself trapped between two world. both amazing. both pure. i realised my new life in france has set my mind on a new course. i was truely experiencing myself in a new way. i enjoy life here. who would not. soaking up the sun. drinking pastis while starting at perfect blue water. reading hemingway. a moveable feast. this ones for you pappi. i found myself wondering where i go to from here. where will i find myself in a few years time. i was a good question. it made my mind rumble. hem always leaves me with a sense of nostalge. i love that. pondering between the here. the then. the yesterday. i was at my happiest there in some famous cafe. but that raised the trivia in me. where does my two worlds meet. what is my reality. would my spirituality allow me to be. to enjoy. would my dreamworld except my spirituality. how will the two get along. will they compromise. will they give in. are they different in any way. are they different at all. they are both what i enjoy. am i cheating life. the sun was baking on my face. the smell of suncream being my aura. the laughter of children being a sense of euphoria to me. kids with melting icecream. a travel partner that has a lot of questions. i can see it on her face. i can sense it as she sits behind her cafe double. does she have the same trivia. we have not yet spoken about that. i dont think she does though. her thoughts seem to be somewhere else. the beat suddenly changes on my ipod and i awake from my daydreaming. where have i been. am i back. was that reality. or is this. i sometimes struggle to distinguish the two. the music is friendly. gotan project. they are great. another pastis. a walk down the street. towards the sea. a yacht has just pulled in. my icecream is melting too. i am think too much. i turn the corner and found myself watching some old men play boules. i love to watch them. the way they go about their business. so meticulous. so perfect. poetry in motion. their face baked by years of southern sun. their hands wrinkled by the sand and the dust of years of boules. i bet they have asked the same questions. i bet they have lived good lives. i bet they have lived. loved. lost. it is written on their faces. friendly faces. always gazing in the direction of preying spectators. acknowledging you with a smile. a smile that says more than the qusetion asked for. but satisfying none the less. that is perhaps why i watch. not so much the game. but the people. they live. i admire then. they understand living. simplicity. i cross the bridge. stroling back to the cafe. she was still writing post cards. she looks up. smiles. we take our time to get to the station. its a couple of hours back by train. we walk the hill towards the staion. the sun beaming from the mountain top. vines all over. i smile. my heart leaps. my spirit filled with joy. i know what they resemble to me. they are my victory. a story for another day. another day gone by. a day well spent. a day to remember. a day to think about. stop thinking about thinking. live. yes rather live. live and let live.

diversity

i just love diversity. its my favourite new word. why. probably cause i realised that i come for a place where it is most apparent. i had to come to europe to see it. i had to come to this place to be able to see my unbelievable upbringing. what a privilege. who knows what this means. !KE E:/XARRE //KE. it means diverse people unite. how precious. it is the motto of my country back home. it is a bushman dialect. when i read it a couple of days ago i became very emotional. i realised it is our most powered possession. i was preparing a presentation for my fench class. i never knew this to be honest. it made me wonder about its meaning and the strength of this unity. i see it in my school here too. that probably sparked this thought. when we get together like at last nights wine festival there are mutli national groups of people getting together. it is amazing. you have french. you have spanish. swiss. german. english. dutch. irish. colombian. and me. african. white african. african none the less. we speak english. german. french. spanish. dutch. all mixed in one. almost our own language. its fun. we all understand each other. we compare. we ask. we laugh. we joke. diverse peole unite. amazing. you cant get enough of this. i want more. i learn everyday. we learb form each other. what we like. what we love. want we detest. a pity that soon we will be split up again and everyone will return to their own. berlin. valencia. dublin. amsterdam. barancia. sussex. montpellier. imagine that. the world in one classroom. it feels strange. it feels good. it excites me. we are not all that different. might have diffenrent ideas on certain issues. but that makes us human. that makes us diverse.

alcohol unites

a crazy world we live in. went to a wine tasting last night. it was great fun. some good wines. some aweful. but that was not the object of the exercise. an open air tent. lots of people. all enjoying themselves. it is evident on their faces. the way they look around. the way they tapped their feet to the beat of the music. the band playing their hearts out. laughing. crying. joking. dancing. chatting. everybody standing around in little huddles listening to stories and jokes being told. fun. fun. fun. nobody being stupid. perhaps a bit silly. but thats ethanol doing its work. and it struck me how alcohol is the glue that keeps the world together. take five random people. give them wine. give them beer. give them alcohol and they will have a party and be friendly. is this a bad thing. not necessarily. i have lived and seen people react. some behave badly. others handle it well. they become social. they open up. they loose inhibition. funny. why do they need alcohol to show their real selves. would it not be great if we could all just be ourselves. no fear. no prejudice. alcohol unites. the social glue of the world.

pilgrims rest

the place where pilgrims rest. a town glued together by some relics of the Cross. what utter nonsense. yet for thousands of years pilgrims found themselves in this small village. we walked up the hill to the monastery. but not to visit it. for breakfast. behind the big monastery that fills half the space of st guilhem is a square with a massive p-tree in the middle. probably over a 100 years old. we order a typical french breakfast. it consists of a sawn in half baguette. strawberry jam. apricot jam. and strong black coffee. the cobble stones of the square glow in the hot morning sun of the mediterranean. a fountain with icy mountain water dances behind us. as if it is performing for the tourists. delightful atmosphere. a sense of spiritualism fills the air. not the religious type. the good type i guess. i wonder what it must have been like way back when. when the religious folk came to worship three chips of wood claiming to be from the Cross. if ever a money making scheme. we enjoy the tranquillity and laugh about the stupidity of relics. the village suddenly starts to wake as we work our way through 3 baguettes. tables are carried out of cellars. chairs packed out. umbrellas put up. cobbles swept and polished. perhaps the pope is visiting. i guess not. perhaps he has been here. not a chance. we order more coffee and the flying dutchman poses in front of the p-tree. a spiritual experience in itself. can one man be so silly. can one man make you laugh so much. i think laughter has more power than relics. what do you think. perhaps the laughter we left in st. guilhem will take the village to the next level. a new millennia. i truly hope so. long live the pope of laughter. long live the flying dutchman. viva la france. amen