Dreams etched in pages of ice, conversations captured in frozen crystals.

Like many others, I face my news feeds with a sense of foreboding and angst these days, so it is such a pleasure to read find a hidden gem of news such as the ice library of dreams on the shores of Lake Baikal.

ice-library-on-lake-baikal-russia

This delighted me with a variety of whispers from many places in my own library of memories.

I remember, late July in 1999, dithering at the shore, dipping my toes into the clear, icy waters of Lake Baikal near the village of Listvyanka in Siberia. I was determined to get into the water. Legend has it that Baikal’s water has special powers and I was not going to miss the opportunity to take advantage of these. Just in case. It is believed that if you dip your hands into the lake, you will be rewarded with an extra year of life. The bonus for slipping your feet into the water is an extra 2 years. If you swim in the lake, you gain an irresistible additional 25 years of life. The challenge comes from the fact that Lake Baikal is the largest body of fresh water in the world, it is the deepest lake on the planet and it contains one fifth of all fresh water in the world.

In winter it freezes over completely and even in the height of summer when the air was hot enough to burn my skin, the water remains shockingly cold. My toes curled around the pebbles, the skin already turning red with the cold. Slowly, I ventured in, inch after inch. When it was just deep enough, I lowered myself into the water, splashing briefly, a bear like roar involuntarily escaping from deep inside my lungs before I decided that my immersion qualified for the 25 year bonus. As I stepped back to the shore, dripping and shivering, I locked eyes with a puzzled brown cow before it veered away from the shore and the strange, drenched human.

The ice library on Lake Baikal speaks with a voice which is unusual in its simplicity and complexity. The library is carved from blocks of ice, designed to resemble open books. On each page, there is a wish or dream, sent from people all over the world. Some dreams are personal, some further reaching. All are etched into the ice, preserved until the warmer spring air comes. Then the dreams will slowly melt into the deep waters of the lake. An exquisitely modest concept, yet so powerful.

This is chiming with another page from my personal memory book. I remember arriving in Mongolia in November 2005. It was a warm autumn seemingly, at a gentle -20°C. Yes, that reads minus. I would need to prepare for winter which was approaching rapidly. I knew that the temperatures would settle around -35C in the afternoon sun, and sink to -45C at night. Knowing this is one thing, but these temperatures are unimaginable if you have never experienced them. They are also dangerously cold as described in an earlier post about the Mongolian cold and snow.

The air is so cold and arid that your breath freezes instantly in a cloud around you when you speak.

a winter ride

a winter ride 2

a winter ride4

The Mongolians say that the words you utter are captured in tiny ice crystals, and preserved in the air until the warmer air comes and they thaw. This was such a beautiful image, that it inspired the first poem which I have ever had published. This was called “December Conversations” and appeared in the summer edition of Ulaanbaatar City Guide of 2006, and I share an extract here.

img_1786

 

December Conversations

So cold the river is fully frozen,

unable to thaw for many months

not until the summer sun

is strong enough to permeate each icy layer.

So cold my eyelashes trap

tiny invisible particles

fusing, bonding lash to lash

a mesh barrier filtering my vision.

So cold that every breath and word

tumbles in clouds out of our mouths

instantly freezing in formations of frosted

whispers, words and conversations.

Our every word is preserved

suspended in the air

in frozen animation

through all the winter months.

A mother soothes her crying child

her loving words softly resting

in the air between her lips

and her son’s smarting bright red cheeks.

The two young lovers hugging as they walk

whisper messages of eternal love and endless devotion ……..

All throughout the winter months

the city air is crammed and filled

with captured, suspended conversations

secrets, disagreements and private messages…

The city smiles knowingly

as it releases its melted secrets

into the streets

unnoticed.

ub-city-guide-2006

In Africa the skies are not cold, there is no ice or frost on the grass. Yet the thought of a library of ice, and of words preserved in frozen crystals have embedded firmly in my spirit for the day. I have sent my own dream in the hope that it might be etched on the walls of the ice library, and eventually join the waters of Lake Baikal.

Our words are powerful and precious, let us use them with care, consideration and tenderness.

springtime thaw

Advertisements

A new chapter – picking up the pieces

It really is the start of a new phase and I am indeed back!  It is wonderful to be able to unpack right to the bottom of the suitcase, particularly knowing that I will not be re-packing in a few days.  (All being well and being ultra careful not to tempt fate, of course!)  I am slowly trying to pick up the pieces from last October when life changed. 

Things have of course changed a bit in my 9 months of limbo and treatment.  Friends and colleagues have moved on, new ones arrived, rainy season is here, and there have been lots of changes and developments I need to catch up on at work.  It was strange and emotional walking back towards my desk and I really had to brace myself to cross that physical threshold.   

I am trying to reconnect both professionally and personally, although this is hindered a bit by the fact it is prime holiday season and many folks are away.  I am also trying to ensure that my daily routine prioritises my health and have joined the swimming pool, and make a point of swimming most days.  This has been sabotaged a couple of times by monsoon rains at the wrong time of day, but I keep trying!

I have also finally ditched my headscarf (yes, I’m topless now 😉 ) and although I still feel self-conscious about the skinhead hairdo, I feel better without the scarf so I hope I do not frighten too many people while I wait impatiently for the hair to grow back a bit more.

A surprise has been the revenge of one of my chemo treats – a feast of jazz music for the i-pod, which I just loved when I got it.  Well now it has bitten me while I was unawares – I tried to listen to Jamie Cullum the other night and realise that if I even think of his music it transports me instantly back to those awful groundhog days.  Sorry, Jamie!  I am sure this will fade in time but for the moment, you are off-limits!

I am also trying to do things which I could not while I was in the chemo cave – that’s not difficult really, as in the latter stages of chemo life consisted of sleeping, swimming and trying to eat so I usually only left home to go to the pool.  And, of course, for those awful blood tests which always marked the imminent return to Bangkok for the next punishing dose of chemo.  As my strength returns I am eager to pick up on the things which I could not do and go to places beyond me in those recent months.

Time marches relentlessly forward and I am doing my best to march forward too, with all the changes, fears and uncertainties that have been gifted to me by whole experience.

Chemo treat update

I might have mentioned that I find Chemo pretty horrible. This is my excuse and reasoning for providing myself with a treat after every cycle (after my friend suggested it – thanks J!)

I realise that I have developed a kind of chemo treat system.  Unwritten rules have evolved as well as some kind of criteria. 

The first treat was quite a big one – a replacement camera as my camera had collapsed after 5 years of very heavy use.  I am still not sure if it was a treat as criteria no 1 is that the treat must not be something essential.  I had already bought books, but they are clearly essentials, so the camera was an appropriate treat. 

Treat number 2 was the famous music download disaster which I am repairing.  Treat number 3 was more music to try and replace the massive music library loss.  Another criteria – something which is for keeping and lifting my spirits.

Treat number 4 – the famous swimsuit – which is in serious danger of disintegration through overuse!   This also fits the criteria of being something which will motivate me and make me feel good.

I have to say that I have been finding it quite difficult latterly to shop for the chemo treats.  I have to make my mind up beforehand what I want and then find ut where I can find it, as energy and shopping outings are limited.  For treat Number 5 I decided that I needed some art materials to inspire creativity time at home. 

This is waiting for me at home, and was worth the trek and tiredness to get them.

And today, I have to say I did struggle to get treat number 6.  Another criteria is that I can’t get the treat before the chemo (it would be tempting fate) and I am just finding it a bit tiring when the side effects are piling in.  Treat number 6?  Some lovely modern jazz music and a sketch book.  Perfect.

Now I need to think ahead for treats 7 and 8…………………  suggestions very welcome!