I'm Moving!

To a new site, that is!

New direction, new blog - www.thegothamgreen.com. I'll be focusing on sustainable living in urban areas, and on how YOU can get involved.

As always, thanks for reading!

Inversions like headstand and shoulderstand are the most powerful of the asanas, affecting one physically: reversing the aging process, mentally: stimulating intuition and clarity and spiritually: expanding consciousness leading to enlightenment.

"We tell ourselves stories in order to live. We look for the sermon in the suicide, the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the 'ideas' with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience."

- Joan Didion, The White Album

Township Life

Bit after the fact, but I wanted to share some pics of the township we worked with.  Zamani, population 7,000.  

on the way to serve lunch at the primary school

Main Street.

Bathtime.

How I Got My Groove Back (and How New York Can, Too)

I've been having trouble getting into my headstand lately.

No, okay.  To say I've been "having trouble" is an understatement.  What's been happening on my mat is anarchy: a terrifying, graceless show of flopping legs, screwy Popeye the Sailor facial expressions, and a grand finale flurry of frustrated tears.  Stick around long enough, you may even catch an encore of emo.

"What is HAPPENING to me?" runs my mental broken record, as I struggle once more to heave a wobbly gam above my head.  Two weeks ago I could hold this pose with ease.  Two weeks ago I would never let something as silly as a failed yoga posture get to me.  Two weeks ago-

Two weeks ago I was in Africa.

Oh New York.  Never have I encountered a place that challenges me so much, that throws a monkey wrench in my otherwise squeaky clean fixed-gear, and has the ability to turn me upside down (though apparently only in the figurative sense).  Those plane wheels touched down and my centeredness flew away, leaving nothing on the ground but some moldy luggage and a confused sense of self.  

Technology!  A zillion ads for the latest gadgetry bombard me upon landing, offset by the cacophonous bleeping of myriad cellular devices.  I've known this part of New York for five years - still, I was appalled.  I was experiencing a dramatic shift not only in time zone, but in humanity.  No one was shaking hands in greeting here.  Hell, no one was even making eye contact.  We were glued facedown to Facebook, too busy flipping through our emails to look up.  And we were missing the world.  

Gone was Africa.  Gone were the neighbors who walked through my door without knocking, stopping by just to say "hey".  Gone were the wide grins, the tight hugs, and the elaborate handshakes of my African community - a populace that would not hesitate to refer to themselves as my brothers and sisters, even if we'd only met once.  

I came down with a bad case of deer-caught-in-headlights syndrome.  I bumped into things and wandered around aimlessly, unable to tether myself to any normalcy in this concrete jungle.  I watched people and the way they interacted - or rather, failed to.  New York City is home to the most fascinating people in the world - from all walks of life, with the most advanced ideologies and diverse personalities.  The people of New York are its finest asset, the reason so many of us sacrifice comforts like space and - oh, I dunno - air.  How ironic that these days, we're so preoccupied with typing we can't take time to appreciate what we've got.  We're so engaging, but we're too busy staring at the screen to engage each other. Technology is an amazing thing, but in it's advancement it has taken away something priceless: our social mores.

It's been bugging me, to put it mildly.  But the affects of this hypertechnical era aren't just annoying - they're debilitating.  Our dependence on technology is becoming a serious affliction, with people actually being treated for "phantom phone ring syndrome".   With so much at our fingertips, we're finding it harder to focus on the task at hand - even if it's as simple as our breath.  

Which is why I haven't been able to get into my headstand lately.  I haven't been able to get my head to stand still.  All caught up in the cyclone of texts and tweets and apps and links, my mind's been a whirl, and focusing on my breath has been the last thing on my iCal to-do list.  No wonder my practice has sucked.

Plodding out my 4th craptastic class in a week, I knew something had to be done.  I decided to take matters into my own hands - or rather, out of them.  So I hid my phone & laptop, went up on the roof, and sat there.  Up here, twenty stories above the pavement, there were no distractions.  There was no noise.  No buzzes, bleeps or pings.  No appointment reminders or event invitations.  All I could hear was my thoughts, and then a funny thing happened: they stopped.  Palms to the ground, I kicked up - into a perfect, silent headstand.  Toes in the air, eyes to the gunmetal grey sky, things suddenly seemed a lot clearer from this angle.  

I'm not gonna suggest you set your phone on fire (although it would be cool to see what happened if you did).  But maybe, try what I like to call "the South African Social Experiment" today.  When you're done reading this blog, log off.  Leave your phone at home and go for a walk.  Look a stranger in the eye, and then do something crazy.  Say "hello".  

Maybe he'll give you a weird look and keep walking.  Or maybe he'll say hi back.  Whatever the outcome, you'll be starting a cool new trend.  And you might start a great conversation.  Or a friendship.

Who knows?  You might even like it so much that you decide to do it again tomorrow...

"Inspiration is not garnered from the recitation of what is flawed; it resides, rather, in humanity's willingness to restore, redress, reform, rebuild, recover, reimagine, and reconsider. 'Consider' (con sidere) means 'with the stars'; reconsider means to rejoin the movement and cycle of heaven and life."
- Paul Hawken, Blessed Unrest

Goodbye, South Africa

Hello, New York

I recently joked with a friend that people who choose to have an experience such as mine always describe it by copping the cliche "it changed my life".  

Well, add me to the list.  

South Africa.  In it's current state, it's not a place I would choose to put down roots.  Apartheid may be long gone, but there are still a lot of boundaries people are fighting to dismantle.  However, to look at the nation it is now, compared to the one it was 20 years ago...now that's an inspiration.  It's a model for humanity - proof that we have the ability to overcome all odds, and to grow and learn in leaps and bounds.   And, despite it's harsh and insular history, there is incredible warmth and generosity to be found amongst the people here.  It's both a newborn babe of a nation, and a sunny African mama inviting you to sit down and stay awhile.  

So yeah, it changed my life.  Because I don't think it's possible to witness such spirit, such grace in the face of adversity, such unending commitment to the struggle for freedom, without being changed.  So, thank you, South Africa - for your stunning vistas, for acres of quietude, and for the laughter of children.  Thank you for clarity, and for helping me find passion in places I'd never thought to look before.  Thank you for allowing me to unplug, and in doing so, reconnect with the things that really matter in this world.  And thank you, for proving that one person really can make a difference, and for proving that person could be me.  

Or you, for that matter!  If you're interested in learning more about SheWinS, or about further volunteer opportunities in South Africa, please contact me at lizbethmead82@gmail.com.  There's a great deal of work to be done.

And last, but certainly not least, thank you to everyone who's been following this blog!  Your support's meant more than words can express.  And fear not, faithful readers - turns out, I kinda dig this whole blogging thing, and plan to keep on a'posting.  

From New York, with jet lagged love.

- Liz

The Great South African Roadtrip, cont.

Vintage Frame Shop in Cape Town

The Winelands

Tasting at Blauwklippen Estate

Stellenbosch Vineyards

Strawberry Fields?

The Great South African Roadtrip

With just over a week left here in South Africa, Ro and I have hit the road, deeming no stay complete without the epic cross-country roadtrip.  In seven days we'll be traversing over 1700 miles of desert, beachfront, forest, jungle, mountain, plain, city...I'm beat just talking about it.  Here's a mightily abridged version of the last four days.  Enjoy!  

Mel, our glorious rental car.

The vast and lonely Karoo.

Caffeination

Sunset at Knysna

Ostrich Farms Abound!

Hout Bay, Capetown

Wild Penguins, Simon's Town

Penguin Tushies (I got kinda obsessed).

Kalk Bay, Capetown.

Capetown.

40/love

More Safari, for your Friday

Deep in thought.

"Fear knocked on the door and faith answered.  No one was there." 

- English Proverb

With less than a month left in ZA, facing my fears is something I've really been working at.  It's easy to coast through this life, to avoid stepping out of our comfort zone.  We fear the unknown and the possibility we'll fail.   And so we settle for less than our full potential, and we justify it with a million excuses.   But what we don't realize is that fear of failure IS failure - the fear that nags at you can trip you up and prevent you from taking action, everytime.  

Have faith.  This isn't necessarily about faith in a higher power (although that's important too).  It's more about having faith in yourself.  Faith in knowing that even if you go for it and it doesn't work out the way you planned, at least you're taking action.  It's about doing the right thing - doing awesome things that you'll feel awesome about, instead of settling for a mediocre existence because it's what you know.  

I had major fears about coming to South Africa - it seems all you hear about this place is the bad stuff: rampant racism & xenophobia, staggeringly high crime, poverty and AIDS statistics.  Leaving my cushy life in NYC to come here and bunk on the floor with a bunch of strangers for no pay seemed...well, scary.  But even though this experience has not been what I expected (and  sometimes it's been downright uncomfortable) it's been incredible nonetheless, and it's opened doors and removed barriers for me in ways I couldn't have predicted.  There are many fears I'm still struggling with here, and I'm definitely not always successful.  But the more fears you face, the more faith you have, and that's a lovely little cycle to get caught up in.

The father of South Africa, Nelson Mandela, said "I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.  The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."  Sound advice from a man who has spent his entire life, including nearly three decades in prison, facing his fears.  He couldn't have done it without faith - in himself, his people, and their cause.  His faith freed a country. 

What could yours do?

Sunday Soccer Game in the Township

Player chasing horses from the field, mid-game.

Luyanda & Ro

Golden Gate National Park

Obligatory mountain top jump shot.

Sunset

Border Hoppin' in Basotho Blankies

"I don't think Paul's gonna make it." Rochelle says grimly.

I shake my head in disbelief, gaze straight ahead. Behind me, Sophie cries out in a strangled voice "What do you mean he's not gonna make it?! He can't die, not now!"

Paul is the 1980 Buick Centurion we borrowed from a friend. Our task was simple: drive three hours to the neighboring country of Lesotho, cross the border to extend our soon-to-be expired visas, and return home, with a sense of accomplishment and a new stamp in our passports.

It didn't exactly go as planned.

"Simple" was the word on my mind as we hovered at 16,000 feet, where Paul had sputtered to a halt on a 75 degree incline of the dubious Moteng Pass ("Moteng", I've since decided, is the Sotho word for Death). We had no phone reception, the sun was setting, and the nearest village was hours away. "This was supposed to be simple" I thought to myself, as I stared at the steep incline ahead of us, "how the heck did we get into this mess?".

Lesotho is a bit of an anomaly. Completely surrounded by South Africa, it has nevertheless managed to maintain its independence and completely avoid apartheid. Racism and segregation are not part of the vocabulary, and crossing the border is like stepping into a time-warp: horses outnumber cars, villages replace towns, and the Basotho people live simple lives as farmers and shepherds, swathed in their traditional dress of colorful woolen blankets.

Now, had we done any research before embarking on this journey, we might have known not to attempt Lesotho in a vehicle boasting -2 horsepower. But I've always been a "fly by the seat of your pants" type of gal, and in this instance, it was proving to be more of a weakness than a strength.

I'd like to say the story had a more dramatic ending, that we were rescued by a lusty herdsman and delivered to safety on the back of his noble steed. But no...fortunately, Paul decided life was worth living after all, and Ro is a pro with a stick shift. We got out of the pickle, found shelter for the night, and had a brief yet illustrious glimpse into the splendor that is Lesotho.

Writing from the safety of docile little Memel, I can look back on the 24 hours of terror and admit that it's one of the things I love most about traveling. You never know when the next adventure's going to happen, when a simple border run will turn into a memory you will laugh about for years to come. Travel challenges you and throws you off guard when you least expect it. And the reward is always worth your effort.

Oh! I forgot the best part. We were denied our visa extension. Next stop Zimbabwe?!?

Local bar

A shepherd boy waves from his perch amongst the cliffs.

Basotho huts on the mountain top

Woman gathering thatch in the field

Brooklyn, we roll hard.

Emy, Joey and Dan came to visit!

They came, they saw, they conquered.  Our credo was "Brooklyn, we roll hard!", and roll hard we did - whether it be through herds of wild elephants or herds of drunken Afrikaaners, we took Africa by storm.  They brought a little piece of home to ZA, and only reinforced my belief that no matter where I roam, I'll never find a group of peeps who can compare to my Brooklyn crew.

Love and miss you guys, and I'll be seeing y'all real soon.

Outdoor concert

Kickin' it on safari

Family portrait.

Pardon my absence, I've been away on...

SAFARI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know how sometimes, every great once in awhile, something so special and amazing comes along that it renders you absolutely unable to accurately sum it up?

Safari is one of those things.  

You gotta go.  Put it on the top of your life list, book your ticket, and get yourself one of those ridiculous hats.  

I'm not going to say a whole lot here - I know people are in it for the pictures : )  But I will say that it is mind-blowing to be so close to these animals in their natural habitat.  I spent the better part of a week with my jaw on the floor, utterly speechless out of awe and reverence.  I can't compare it to anything, and I wouldn't do it justice by describing it.  

Ya just gotta go.

P.S. - I took a boatload of pics, so I'll probably throw more up in coming weeks.  Below are some of my faves so far.  Enjoy!

Baby, Momma, Poppa

Blesbok

Mudfight!!!!

Full moon over Kruger Park as the lions lounge...

The watering hole.

Peek-a-boo.