Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Heading North......

Briefly though, before heading off to the train station for my overnight ride to Warszawa, I decided to get a much needed hair cut. I scheduled an appointment with a member of the B’hai community, a friend of Andrews. While the haircut served its purpose, I was most pleased with my connection with the young male hairdresser, who is a Roma. Roma’s are those individuals referred to as Gypsies in all travel guides. “They are the ones to be aware of and avoided at all cost, the thieves.” They are the same ones that Hitler attempted to exterminate along with the Jews and Homosexuals. They are the ones that today, are heavily discriminated against as second class citizens, perceived to be a burden upon the welfare system. Human rights groups are beginning to speak out on their behalf. After sharing an hour and a half with Artur I found myself easily letting loose of any prejudices I had become familiar with during my time here in Hungary. As is often the case while traveling, I am delighted with the way in which seemingly serendipitous connections are made, serving to expand my awareness of other realities. I am grateful to have had a personal connection with a member of the Roma family.

Off to the train station I go. A couple of metro stops later and I am at the Keleti terminal. It is 18:00 and time to board the train. As I enter into my cozy cabin I am delighted to be here. Well provided for, with a most comfortable bed to snuggle up in, plenty of bottled water, a Gyro sandwich to-go, a large window providing great views of the passing landscape, my ipod with all of my favorite music, and an engaging book I am just finishing up, all in the care of a most attentive conductor. Now, to just settle into the rhythmic motion of the train as I travel thru northern Hungary into Poland. . I am grateful to be where I am. Life is good.

Akasha meets me at the train station. I am grateful to see her, and even more so as she navigates us thru Warsaw as we head towards the boarding school where our group is meeting for the week. After a number of bus changes and a long walk, we arrive. All the while she enthusiastically shares with me, her love of her city, its history and her hope for its future. As we make our way, I am struck with how tattered the city looks, unkempt and in disrepair. The architectural wonders I have been surrounded by for the past months, are no where to be seen. As the story unfolds, many of the large tall concrete buildings are constructions of the Russian regime, that occupied Warszawa for forty some years. Before that, the city was ravished by the German army. At one point it was questionable as to whether the city should be rebuilt elsewhere, as there was so little that remained after all of the bombings. Poland resisted the German’s occupation and as a result paid a very heavy price.

After arriving to the school, some 20 miles outside of town, I had a bite to eat, unpacked and was ready to return to the city, for more site seeing. I am so glad that I did, as it was my last time to experience Warsaw, other than my taxi ride to the airport, at 4:00, heading out to Norway. So, with all of her enthusiasm, Akasha led me on quite a rigorous tour thru her city. Wanting to show me as much as possible in the 4 short hours we had, before needing to be back for our groups first meal together. The pace and intensity was at times a bit overwhelming. We spent most of our time in the old part of the town. Most of which has been completely restored, so that in fact what we actually saw was, to a large extent, the reconstruction of a demolished city. And while I would not have known that, the Polish people do and are committed to reclaiming their buildings, their structures, their historic treasures, filling the plazas and walking streets with their presence. Regrettably I did not have my camera with me. So I have no picture to share. I really thought there would be more opportunities to photo shoot.
On our bus ride back to the school Akasha shares with me that she is a trained opera singer. She loves to sing. 12 years ago she quit singing, while in a very difficult relationship. Some 10 years later, she realized that she had lost her voice. Out of a deep commitment to reclaiming it, she sought out professional help, in repairing any damage done to her vocal cords. With much therapy, a lot of practice and patience, she is able to once again express thru song. I was deeply touched by her story, as I reflected on her commitment to reclaiming her full expression. Her story is Warszawa’s story. I will carry it with me as I remember Poland.

Ah, where to go from here. Well, it was not long before it became clear to me, that my time here in this part of the world was somehow a reflection of an aspect of my own life, as I have traveled thru my own demolished past, reconstructing my life as I go. I too have resisted occupation, in my own rebellious ways, and I too have paid a heavy price. Sounds a bit melodramatic, I know, but there is something about it that rings true, and I am appreciating the correlation. It helps me to get some perspective, it gives me hope, it connects me to the greater whole.

As I entered into the week with 12 other practitioners of NVC I was looking forward to an experience of deep connection, empathic listening with mutual support and understanding. Loosing site of the fact that all of us, committed to a life of non violent connection, carry with us our humanity. And with that humanity comes…….you name it! Deep structure, deep culture, wounded, unhealed realities seeking meaningful resolution. Much to my own dismay, family of origin dynamics were recreated, providing rich opportunity to rewrite the script. Fortunately, after having had two months of self connecting solitude, I was well resourced and able to move thru my own storylines with little trouble. It was actually quite an affirming experience for me.

In a fairly unstructured environment we all experimented with speaking our truth, receiving varying degrees of support as we ventured into authentic communication.
We explored making requests, along with negotiating our way thru different needs as they arose within the group. Truly a rich opportunity to harvest some potentially transformative insights. Not always pleasant, nor fun, but seemingly necessary in the process of healing into wholeness.


The group represented citizenship from different parts of the world, including Poland, Hungary, India, Iran, Israel, United States. In retrospect, I mourn that there was not more mutual interest in providing empathy for our cultural wounds.



I regret that when Sahara from Iran shared her computer
with me, so I could make my plane reservation to Norway, she
showed me a series of pictures of US soldiers dining on gourmet
meals in Iraq, and that I did not request some time for mutual empathy, as we each observed the photos. But instead I merely expressed my own disgust.


I regret that when Yoham from Israel boldly expressed his disrespect for Christians, that Christinn, a Catholic priest from Shri Lanka was not able to empathize with him around the pain, connected to the mutual suffering of their own cultural past.



I mourn that as Ike, the charming white male from the US spoke, the East European women seem to have lost connection with all else, including themselves, as they were so impressed by what I interpreted as the dominate whilte male culture. I mourn that we did not choose to empathize with Anna who recently lost her husband to bone cancer and Eva whose husband is currently dealing with kidney failure.

So, while it appears as though there were some missed opportunities for some healing work, I do trust that we all did the best we could and that each of us left with exactly what we came for.













And for that, there is reason for celebration. Additionally, for the connections that were made and for those that will be maintained.


Upon my return from Norway much to my delight, I received an email from
Chris. I look forward to staying in touch with him, along with a couple of the others.

Yes, it was a good, full week in Poland and I am ready to head even further north into the Nordic region of the world, where my own cultural roots lie deep.