A Bit of Greek Humor to Help Us Get By.

 

 

Jeff—Saturday

There really isn’t much uplifting news to report these days, aside of course from this Weekend's Sweet Sixteen NCAA Basketball games. But there remains humor to be found ... at least for Greeks. 

So, rather than droning on about what confronts us on so many fronts, permit me to share with you a bit of uniquely Greek humor. Unique I say, because it brings Greek gods into play in jokes I lifted directly from jokes4us.com.

What game did the Greek Gods play?

Hydra and go seek.

What did the Ancient Greeks wear on their feet?

Tennis Zeus.

How do Greek women get ready for a toga party?

With A Hera appointment.

Have you seen the movies about Greek Mythology?

No? Well you odyssey them.

                                                                                                                 

What do you call a musician petrified by Medusa?

A rockstar.

Why doesn't Aphrodite date tennis players?

Because love means nothing to them.

What did Poseidon say to the sea monster?

What's Kraken?

Why does Ares only have a Sony Playstation?

Because he is the "God Of War."

Who did Artemis invite to her birthday party?

Her nearest and deer-est friends.

What breed of horse was the Trojan horse?

A nightmare.

What do you call the Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie about the Greek Bailouts?

The Last Action Gyro.

And punny you should ask, but yes, now you know why I have such an affinity for Greece. :)

—Jeff

The Little Five

 Michael - Alternate Thursdays

Most people know about South Africa’s Big Five. These are the iconic Bushveld animals that people come halfway around the world to see in their natural environment. They are the Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Rhinoceros, and Buffalo. So then what are the Little Five? They are also fascinating creatures, just a lot smaller. And their namesakes are the Big Five. Let’s take a look at them (in reverse order):

The Red-billed Buffalo Weaver

Red-billed Buffalo Weaver

Masked weaver putting the finishing touches to his beautifully woven nest

Although these birds are part of the Weaver group, they are not at all in the class of the charming masked weavers that build intricately woven nests. With masked weavers, the males will offer the females several options, and she may reject them all. If she does, the male will completely demolish the nests and start again.

Thorny dead acacia branches seem a favorite construction material

Buffalo weavers, on the other hand, build large communal nest that are anything but elegantly woven. They are built from twigs and sticks arranged in an apparently haphazard fashion but producing “lodges” containing several nest chambers. The males persuade as many females as they can to take up residence and then they defend them from other males. They flap around noisily announcing their sovereignty. Probably they aspire to having their likenesses on gold coins. Occasionally, the whole construction becomes so unstable that it collapses. Then the whole flock will move on to another location and repeat the whole chaotic process.

Very proud of himself

They are large (for weavers) and quite handsome in their way, but not very bright. I once saw a predatory hawk make its way around the communal nest reaching in and grabbing chicks while the weavers carried on no end but did very little. Eventually, some (much smaller) birds took matters into their own hands (so to speak) and chased the hawk away with aerial acrobatics and dive bombing. Afterwards, the buffalo weavers went on with their business as though nothing had happened.

The name Buffalo Weaver comes from their habit of following buffalo herds to feed on the insects the large beasts disturb as the move through the bush.

The African Rhinoceros Beetle

Okay, so no prizes for guessing how they got their name.

They are appealing creatures, and don’t sting or bite, but unfortunately can do damage to groves of palm trees. Still, nobody’s perfect. They are large for beetles and popular pets in some parts of the world. The horn seems to be for arguments with other males.

The Elephant Shrew

Eastern Rock Elephant Shrew

Elephants shrews are almost ridiculously cute. They use their long noses to search around for insects, which they then flick into their mouths. In fact, they are not actually shrews or even rodents, but have their own order.

We had the pleasure of seeing several living on a large rock outside our cabin at the Mountain Zebra National Park. Their antics were much more entertaining than those of most of the larger animals.

The Leopard Tortoise

Leopard tortoise. No rush...

The Leopard can’t change its spots and neither can the leopard tortoise, although the pattern may fade as they get older. They are the fourth largest species of tortoise and may reach two feet in length. In common with other large tortoise species they are long lived and my reach 100 years old.

I once had a (nearly) crushing experience with a large one. Driving a Land Rover, looking for larger animals, I suddenly realized there was one in the road in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and the vehicle stopped, but the road was downhill and it slid forward some way. When we examined the situation, we realized that the front wheel was actually jammed on the tortoise's shell. The animal had followed Tortoise 101 and disappeared into its shell. The shell wasn't cracked or damaged, but it was firmly held with the tire pressing on one side of the shell. I wanted to reverse the vehicle, but feared that the Land Rover might roll another few inches forward when I released the break before the reverse gear took. That could be disastrous. So we spent some time jamming and hammering large stones in front of the other wheels first. The operation was a success, and in due course the tortoise emerged, took a good look around, and then moved sedately into the bush. Apparently hyenas sometimes get through those shells, but nothing else has much of a chance, not even Land Rovers.

The AntLion

One is grateful that these are very small...

Each hole has a minimonster hiding at the bottom

Alone of all the Little Five, Antlions aren’t restricted to Africa. Uncommon among insects, it’s the larval stage that is the more interesting with their neat sand traps to catch ants and other small insects. Burying themselves in loose sand, the wait at the bottom of their conical pit traps for something to slip in. Then they'll grab it with their fearsome (for ants) jaws and enjoy a good meal. They have a slow metabolism so can take their time between meals. It may take a year to reach the stage where they pupate and change into adults.

  

The adults are rather lovely creatures, making one think of diaphanous dragon flies, but they live only a few weeks. Finding a mate and laying eggs is about it.

One of the remarkable and enjoyable things about the African bush is the enormous variety of life. Maybe one isn’t always blown away by sightings of the Big Five, but there are always other creatures with interesting lives, behaviors, and pedigrees to enjoy. It is truly a gift.

Notes from the Saggy Middle

Ovidia--every other Tuesday

I suspect all writers (and too many readers) are aware of the 'saggy middle' stretch where nothing much seems to be happening.

It kind of feels like that's where we're at in Singapore right now. Everyone's recovering from the crush of major festivals: Christmas- Chinese New Year- Hari Raya Aidilfitri and there's just a little time to breathe now that it's Lent and Easter doesn't come till April 5 this year.

I was thinking that I had nothing to write about this week--not because nothing has happened, but because so many small but good things have.

The best of these is, I have a new office assistant:

I can't believe we didn't realise how smart Sophia is--she just didn't understand our expectations. Now she not only walks on a leash, as soon as she sees me unhooking her harness she lies on her tummy and lifts her two front paws to slide them into the correct loops.
I might be biased, but isn't that dog level genius? She also responds to 'Sit' and 'Stay' even when other dogs are around and holds the current record for digging out treats hidden in egg cartons or wedged into toilet rolls.
Best of all maybe, she's come to understand the yoga mat in my exercise room isn't a second toilet!

Now she sleeps in the corner while I put my daily time in.

But I'm glad I'll be going to yoga and pilates classes again soon. We'll be having the sea burial ceremony (ashes in an approved sea burial pot) for my dad in law this coming Saturday and then the official mourning period will be over.

I've also really enjoyed the first German class we attended. It's been a long time since I've got to study something according to schedule and I realise I've always approached things by plunging in and going full immersion. But I'm seeing how my fellow students work in structured systems, making vocabulary lists and so on.

So I'm taking this as a chance to learn about learning instead of relying on excitement and momentum!

I've also got to a point where I feel like I know (for now at least) where the next book is going. I can feel it taking shape, bones and organs forming and I'm hoping to get a rough draft down by the end of next month.

And through all this I'm very aware how lucky we are to have quiet moments and safe spaces here, with eveything that's going on in the rest of the world.

Solace

Annamaria on Monday

From my 1970 Webster's Unbridged

I am tempted to explain why I need solace right now.  Such complaining would very likely elicit sympathy from the kind people who make up the partners and the fans of Murder is Everywhere.  But I will not force my misery-loves-company on you.

As is always the case in my life, it is music that I find most helpful at a time like this.  So rather than describing my difficulties, I give you my road to a more hopeful and positive outlook: three songs.  Perhaps they will do for you what they are doing for me.

The first one - the beginning of Shostakovich's Piano concerto #2 - starts out a bit sad and quiet, but when the piano comes in the sheer beauty of melody  begins to turn me around.

Shostakovich Piano Concerto #2

And now some more gorgeous Shostakovich

And now SOLACE by Scott Joplin

I have proof that this works for me: The tribulations of creating this blog would ordinarily make me want to scream.  And I have hardly uttered a groan.   

Freedom or Death: A Greek Battle Cry

 Jeff–Saturday

MANTO MAVROGENOUS

March 25^th is fast approaching.  It's a two-for-one holiday in Greece: Annunciation and Greek Independence Day.  The former celebrates Mary learning from Archangel Gabriel that she was with child, and the later marks the day in 1821 when Greek Orthodox Bishop Germanos of Patras raised the Greek flag at the Monastery of Agia Lavra in Greece’s Peloponnese and inspired a more than eight-year struggle (1821-1829) to throw off nearly 400 years of Ottoman rule.

Bishop Germanos raising the flag (Theordore Vryzakis)

In towns and villages across Greece, school children proudly parade the country’s blue and white flag.  Aflutter, the flag is reminiscent of Greek seas but it holds a deeper meaning.  The white cross honors the contribution of the church to the country’s enduring battle for freedom and its nine blue and white bars honor the nine syllable rallying call shouted across the land during Greece’s struggle for Independence: Eleftheria i Thanatos—Freedom or Death.  (Though some say they represent the nine letters of ελευθερια in the Greek word for freedom, the idea is the same.). 

Petros Mavromichalis

Greece’s larger cities also hold military parades, and Greek communities around the world join in celebration with parades of their own.  But this is not about any of those events, or for that matter whether the Revolution actually began a week earlier in another part of the Peloponnese when the ruler of its Mani region, Petros Mavromichalis, raised his war flag in Mani’s capital city of Areopoli and marched his troops off against the Turks.

No, this is about a small Cycladic island’s personal War of Independence heroine, Manto Mavrogenous (1796-1848).  Her statue stands at the foot of the main square on Mykonos’ harbor,  and soon it will be surrounded by palm fronds—an ancient symbol of triumph, victory, and the sacred sign of Apollo—in honor of a life truly worthy of an epic film.  Or a tragic opera.

Manto Mavrogenous Square, Mykonos

Born in Trieste to a wealthy, aristocratic Greek merchant family, Manto Mavrogenous studied philosophy and history, was fluent in several languages, and drew her fire for Greek independence from her father, a member of Filiki Eteria, the secret society dedicated to freeing Greece from Ottoman rule. 

She was thirteen when her family returned to its roots in the Cycladic islands, first to Paros and after her father’s death to Tinos.  War broke out when she was twenty-five and she left for Mykonos, the place of her family’s origins, to convince its leaders to join in the Revolution.  But what she offered Mykonos and indeed all of Greece was far more than words.  When Ottomans attempted to land on Mykonos, she commanded the forces that repelled them.  She used her fortune to outfit ships and crews that battled pirates and the Ottoman fleet, and to send soldiers to fight for freedom on mainland Greece, as well as to support the families of those who fought.

Manto even sold her jewelry to support the fight and pressed the world to allow Greece to be free.  This is from her letter to The Women of Paris: “The Greeks, born to be liberal, will owe their independence only to themselves.  So I don’t ask your intervention to force your compatriots to help us. But only to change the idea of sending help to our enemies.” 

Demetrius Ypsilantis

In the early years of the war she met Demetrius Ypsilantis, a well-educated son of a prominent family, brother of the leader of Filiki Eteria, and a politically connected war hero.  (Yes, that city in Michigan was named after him, a town perhaps better known today for “the world’s most phallic building,” the Ypsilanti Water Tower.)  They became engaged and Mavrogenous’ beauty, bravery, and selfless commitment to Greek independence brought her fame across Europe. 

Bust of Demetrius erected in foreground of "The Brick Dick" of Ypsilanti.

It seemed a fairy tale, but that was not to be.

During their engagement Mavrogenous’ home was totally destroyed by fire and her fortune stolen.  She moved in with Ypsilanti but in time he broke off the engagement.  Deeply depressed and virtually penniless, she never recovered.

Her memoirs were written on Mykonos but she spent most of the balance of her life amid poverty in Greece’s first modern capital, Nafplio, before finally moving to Paros where she died penurious and in oblivion at fifty-four.

The great debts owed to her for financing so much of Greece’s Revolution were never repaid.  Unless you count the palms, thanks, and honors bestowed each March 25.

The back of a Greek coin worth less than a penny

Freedom or Death.

––Jeff

The Star From Calcutta, Here At Last!

 Sujata Massey

At long last, THE STAR FROM CALCUTTA has arrived!

Three busy years of writing, editing and marketing have brought the wisps of my old film fantasies to life as the fifth Perveen Mistry historical mystery novel. Here’s my elevator pitch:

Perveen Mistry, Bombay’s first woman lawyer, gets her most glamorous client yet: Subhas Ghoshal, the director and founder of Champa Films, a silent film studio that features his wife, the beautiful daredevil actress Rochana, as headliner. The couple is threatened by a rival film company in Calcutta as well as the omnipresent British government censors. 

Perveen brings her best friend, Alice Hobson-Jones, to a preview party for the studio’s next film. Amid the drunken revelry, arguments and liaisons develop. The morning after brings death, a disappearance, and much more of a legal challenge for Perveen, especially since Alice seems to be holding secrets from her. Sailing, a menagerie of performing animals, romance and international intrigue mark the novel. It's onsale in the USA now, and the Indian edition will appear in all South Asian territories in the last week in March. Here's what the Penguin India edition will appear:

One of the challenges in writing about film was locating old Indian films to study and inspire the fictional film (a story within a story) that I dreamed up for Rochana and others from Champa Films. Due to the fragile nature of old film rolls, much of it is gone, although I found some clips online. It looks like many films were about women, and I found myself wondering quite often about the female-centric plots for films like Barrister's Wife. 

One film you can easily find on YouTube is Karma, an Indo-German-British production from 1933 starring Himanshu Rai and Devika Rani, the Bengali filmmaking couple that inspired my fictional characters of Subhas and Rochana Ghoshal. Karma is a fascinating film that features a 4-minute kissing scene, which served as the longest lip-lock world-wide for many decades.

I adored learning about old studios in India and traveled to Bombay, where I visited the very old Mehboob Film Studios and the vacant Imperial Theater as well as the National Museum of Indian Cinema, a fantastic group of buildings that house artifacts of many eras and screen old films as well. 

The old Imperial Cinema

In Mumbai with historians Amrit Gangar and Sifra Lentin

The museum’s founding curator, Amrit Gangar, graciously met with me and answered my obscure questions. One of the most interesting things I learned was that early Indian film audiences were crazy for action heroines whose physicality expressed rebellion against authority. These films showed stars like Durga Khote and The Fearless Nadia racing cars, swimming rivers and fighting with swords were very popular in the 1920s and ‘30s. Many actresses were of mixed South Asian-European ancestry or came from families who had immigrated from the Middle East, including those of Jewish heritage. 

The nation of Germany also plays a surprising role in the book. One of Bombay’s greatest studios, Bombay Talkies, had both a German director and a cinematographer, colleagues that Himanshu Rai and Devika Rani met at Emelka Films in Germany during the 20s and 30s. Being German in British-controlled India between the two wars was a discreet operation due to lingering resentments and suspicion. I had fun talking with Sneha Mathan, narrator of the  audiobook, as we worked out what the novel’s character Hans Becker might have sounded like. I myself am Indo-German, so it was very heartwarming for me to bring this aspect into the novel.

You can’t make a film without a team; and I certainly found the same was true in writing a book about film. I close with resounding applause to the off-camera real life crew and of course, my beloved fictional characters and old Bombay locations who will continue in upcoming Perveen Mistry productions.

Royal Bombay Yacht Club bar

 

Sujata has upcoming events to celebrate and sign The Star From Calcutta. Coming up soon are appearances at The Ivy Bookshop in Baltimore on 3/18; Politics and Prose in Washington DC on 3/22; Queen Takes Book in Columbia, MD on 3/27, and Backwater Books in Ellicott City on 4/10; and McIntryres Books, Pittsboro, NC, on 5/9.

5 things that New Zealand does really, really well

Karen Odden - every other Thursday

My husband and I were supposed to visit New Zealand in March 2020 for our 30th anniversary. Needless to say, that didn't happen. 

So for our 35th, we decided to reboot the itinerary and the adventure, and now we are smack in the middle of our trip to New Zealand. (Our Sara isn't here at the moment, alas!! But she did give me some pointers.) 

From Auckland, we went north up to the Bay of Islands, then we went south and east to Coromandel Peninsula, and then we headed south, through Rotorua, Lake Taupo, and Cape Kidnappers (where the blue line ends); eventually we will make it to Wellington and then to the South Island. Every day, from my passenger seat (on the left side of the car), I'm astounded by how beautiful this country is, how there are delights at every turn. OK ... I have to share Jack-Jack the leering goat! And an Atticus Finch sighting!

No one wants to see all my pictures or read some long travelogue of mine ... but I do want to share 5 things that these New Zealanders do very, very well. 

1. Pastries. Omg, I had no idea. The first morning, we had a pastry in the Britomart area of Auckland that was as flaky as any croissant I've ever had in Paris, with a decadent maple almond paste inside like I've never tasted anywhere. It is NOT SHOWN here because I ate it before I remembered to take a picture. 

Another highlight, the next morning, a raspberry pastry (shown, as I managed to take a picture before I gobbled it). A few days later, there was a blackberry and white chocolate muffin at the Hahei Cafe. Truly, if I had to pick only five foods to take to an island to live for eternity, one might be that maple almond pastry. Coffee is excellent as well, and the cafes are ubiquitous.

2. Lotions and body wash and honey and wine! We are moving from place to place, but at every stop there are yet more exquisite natural products. I wish I could bring them all home. I'd need another suitcase. Or two.

3. Rocks. I have never seen so many gorgeous rocks amidst water and in the landscape. This is Cathedral Cove, in Coromandel Peninsula. We hiked down to it along the coast, and the tide was just coming in. Breathtaking, honestly. 

4. Vistas. Inland, there are miles and miles of vistas -- green pastures and farmland and rolling hills and sheep and cows and horses and corn and hay -- and along the coast, there is water. I'm going to tuck in the vistas you see on the ferries from Auckland because they need to be in my list somewhere. We visited the island of Waiheke, walked on the pristine pale sand beach (vista, yes), and then went up to the Mudbrick Winery for a tasting and still MORE vistas. 

5. I've saved the best and most important for last. I'm absolutely wowed by the way that the native Maori culture is celebrated, linguistically present, and part of the fabric of daily life for all New Zealanders and visitors. Many signs show the Maori words first, and the English translation below. Towns have retained their original names. A high point was visiting a living Maori village in Rotorua, where the guide walked us through and explained their alphabet and the history of their spoken and written language, how they used the geothermal land where they live, and the history of how they have kept their culture thriving. (Below, he is explaining the way the body is mapped onto their meeting house.) It was utterly fascinating. I kept thinking to myself, "I am so so glad I didn't miss this."

And now I'll stop. 

If you've been to New Zealand, please feel free to share YOUR favorite things.