The beauty and the pain of being human. Images.

[Iloveyou]

CAPTURING THE SOUL OF THE EARTH

After having read an estimated ton of travel reports over the last years, I‘ve come across the blog of photographer and cyclist Nicolas Marino. He cycled from China across Asia and continued from Egypt around Africa, all on rural roads in remote regions to avoid the traffic of the main routes, but above all to connect with people and the spirit of the land.

In more than eighty short reports and hundreds of pictures he outlines this incredible adventure which is all about his encounters with the people across the continent. I have to choose one example randomly, else I wouldn‘t know where to start.

https://www.nicolasmarino.com/en/nic...eaking-kingdom

PHOTO ESSAYS

https://www.nicolasmarino.com/en/photo-essays

[Iloveyou]

The rough sweetness of the bush


Soon after I leave, I start living again with these magnificent tribes of the region that never seem to end. I visit one after another, I can not remember the names of so many, muamwila, mucumba, mundimba, the list is endless. However, in each one without exception, the constant is the purely affectionate reception; the warmth of the people embraces me and their happy smiles draw a bigger one on my face.

Not long after gaining its hard-fought independence, Angola entered a long and painful period of 27 uninterrupted years of civil war, during which the MPLA (Popular Liberation Movement of Angola), a communist / socialist roots movement that had achieved independence from the Portuguese in 1975, fought with the support of Fidel's and Che's Cuba, the Unita of Jonas Savimbi, supported by Apartheid South Africa who in turn was unconditionally backed by the United States as part of its infamous Cold War against communism around the world. In 2002 with the assassination of Savimbi, the war came to an end, but the remains of a shattered country are still visible outside of Luanda, where buildings in ruin in the middle of the bush have become improvised rural schools where children attend to satiate their need to educate themselves. Seeing this kind of spirits is extremely motivating.

The trails of the bush became more and more difficult as I moved forward, not only because of the amount of sand, which was often like trying to pedal on a beach, but because of the multiple bifurcations and the little human presence that led me constantly to lose myself. Sometimes it meant having to go back several kilometers, using the very same trails that I had just used to get there with so much effort. After that, I would have to wait for someone to walk between villages or some motorcycle on the way somewhere so that I could ask and find the right direction. At times I would sit hopelessly on these sand traps, demoralised while looking at 1/4 of the tires buried in the sand. I would look around me trying to figure out how to get the hell out of there.

In other places, I I would stay trying to communicate with someone from some new tribe who passed by. However, whatever the case, I thoroughly enjoyed being there; my deep union with the bush and my encounter with the people of the tribes of southern Angola filled me with a beautiful feeling of patience, of lack of rush, of understanding that life isn't running for what we think it is lying ahead of us ( the serious illness of which we all suffer to different degrees), but by living in fullness what it going on with us at this very moment, the present moment (the simple antidote to all our problems). For days, I moved forward with considerable difficulty dodging the poor quality of these sandpits, stones, shrubs full of spikes but with the variant that in Angola, due to the absence of wild animals (which are gone as a result of the war) I could treat myself with the great pleasure of pedaling at night on the bright moonlit nights.

It's hard to believe that you're going to the right place when the only thing that drives you there is a narrow wedge in the earth surrounded by shrubs. You have to have to practically trust blindly in the local people to have the conviction to go ahead without knowing where you are going. But finding certainty in the uncertainty of life and the world, is to be aligned with the universe following the logic of life, and that frees me from worries. It frees me up to absorb every step of the way I take without looking back, without looking ahead more than a few pushes on the pedals; this is instinct, this is living properly. This what I believe J.Krishnamurti was talking about when he encourages us to ask ourselves - " are we really observing, are we really appreciating".

It's been several days already since there are no more water pumps on the way and finding water becomes an increasingly difficult task for me. The water is not in front of the eyes in the bush, not at first sight at least, but much water still runs in the bowels of this arid land and that is the only one that ensures that life is still possible here, far from any kind of urbanization or infrastructure. I have no choice but to rely on people to find it. It is in many of those great dry rivers that I have been passing all these days where it is still found, but it is hidden beneath these sandy riverbeds on which at some point in history water actually ran. Angelina leads me to it, on her way to wash the dishes with her little boy on her back.

We walk on the river bed for 10 minutes until we stop at a point that for me is like any other except for the fact that it is clear that we have deliberately stayed away from the cattle that **** everywhere on the little water that is present on the surface. She tells me with certainty - "it's here" - and I wonder what she means. She accommodates her washbowl on the ground, bends over, and with a small tin cup begins to dig in the sand. I just look at it skeptically until after 5 or 6 repetitions the moisture begins to sprout, rising to the surface as if by magic. I find it hard to believe, but I worry about the cleanliness of it, remembering the tremendous shigella that I had caught in Ethiopia, an experience that I prefer not to repeat ever again. However, 5 more repetitions and the water becomes perfectly crystalline, transparent and free of impurities. I take a sip to taste it and the taste is perfect. This is how all the people of this region, whom I now understand why I find scattered across the river beds of these dry rivers, survive here, digging water from the sand every day.

Photographies on Nicolas Marino‘s website:
https://www.nicolasmarino.com/en/nic...-the-mato-bush

[Iloveyou]

I do have the strong impression that once the industrialized world will have finally and entirely collapsed, new beginnings will emerge from these people - tribes of all skin colors and nations - spread around the world. They will step aside and watch our sophisticated technologies crumble. They stay in their heart.

Go down, white race, I will not miss you. Do I need to add that ‚white race’ doesn‘t mean individuals of lighter skin color, but the type of ‚civilization‘ it has brought to the planet. Okay, I will, just in case . . .

Posted by Star Mariner (here)
*bump*

Real people, real words, real feelings, from another time.

Some fascinating old timers here, some so old they would've known people when they were younger who were alive in the 1700s.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FE30a4J38Q

Thank you for that one, Star Mariner, for balance!

[Iloveyou]

xxxxx
Have you ever wondered what kind of place this is - Planet Earth 3D -
where we all (the vast majority of us) start out like this















and end up like that















or like that







and in between we‘re just playing games - without exception, I dare to say








there are so many (esoteric) theories but honestly, I have no clue . . .

[Iloveyou]

A man from another century . . . lovely to listen to him talking about his life.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AMu-G51yTY

The world hangs on a thin thread and that is the psyche of man . . .

[Iloveyou]

Women Goat Herder of Hadhramout, Yemen

[Iloveyou]

Baleen Whale Mask, 19th century, Kwakwaka’wakw people,
Pacific North West. Wearing the heavy mask along his back,
the dancer would have manipulated interior cords controlling
the mask’s fins, mouth and tail to mimic swimming and diving.

Dimensions: 23 5/8 x 28 1/2 x 81 1/8 in. (60 x 72.4 x 206 cm)  





Sierra Leone





Gambia




German tradition





Schiechperchten, Austria





Khon, Thailand





Theyyam dancer, Kerala, India


Don't you know that a midnight hour comes when

everyone has to take off his mask? Do you think life

always lets itself be trifled with? Do you think you can

sneak off a little before midnight to escape this? (Kierkegaard)

[Deux Corbeaux]

Yesterday, in Vietnam, I met this old man who was the husband of the “famous” old lady that died some time ago :

https://m.english.vietnamnet.vn/fms/...bile&ui=mobile

[Iloveyou]

xxxxx

As this thread is about human beings, being human, the human condition (conditioning!) as opposed to human nature - the following shall also belong here.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_n7_gSUVCwc

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuA7uydNmmU

Shoah.

French director Claude Lanzmann‘s 9 hour opus magnum (1985) is the culmination of thirteen years of both capturing interviews and editing them into a film unlike any other in history. In this work constructed almost entirely of voiceover, talking head interviews, and images of actual locations—and a notable absence of historical footage—Lanzmann recreates the past through a subtle, dialectical editing style and aching witness testimony.

Review:
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/shoah-1985


Edit:

Why did they take down the - so impressive - part 2 / second era now ? !!!

Subscribe to watch, 14-day free trial:
https://player.bfi.org.uk/subscripti...ra-1985-online

[Iloveyou]

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkJ3bVXEZn8