Update to 7th May

I am sitting in Claudia’s living room, on sheepskins lain out on a seat that, like a Russian Samovar, surrounds the fire. Early spring sunlight is streaming in through the 4 corner windows that look out into a garden filled with aple blossoms. Claudia is still sleeping. She has been in a great deal of pain in the last 48 hours It is good to here at lasi.

It is almost 2 months that I set off from Perth, 1/6^th of my adventure is over, 5/6ths to go, I wonder what the next months are going to hold. But for a while at least the hectic pace is going to stop. I have slept in 19 beds in 8 weeks! No wonder I have a chesy cough that I do not seem able to get rid of for the moment.

I have been taking photos around here like a tourist and I will be using them to set up a web-page for Claudia’s retreat centre It is an idyllic setting. I have been thinking about accommodation for the centre and have realized that that will be a limitation. It is tre that Claudia can accommodate some here herself, but the possibilities of accommodating others needs to be investigated. Perhaps people in the village would agree to taking paying guests – perhaps a source of income that could be tapped for local people. Certainly with the centre becoming popular, there is a need for catering and cooking for visitors. We will see.

Chelmsford was good. Leonie Ramondt, my old pal from Perth, had booked a room the Riverside Inne – which had earlier been a water mill – the Millstream and weir were still in place as was the gigantic millstones, but not much else survived. It was right on the Chelmer River, that gives Chelmsford its name, as a small University town between London and Colchester, capital of Essex. Chelmsford itself is a bishopric and has its own Cathedral, the photos of which I will post. The centre of the town in quite charming. I spent some of my time there at Ultralab, a part of the University of Anglia Ruskin, that specializes in internet based education of all kinds in a most innovative way. When I get on line I must put a pointer to their Website.

For those people who read this Leonie is a former owner of Gaia House. Born in Holland and trained as a psychiatric nurse, when she was last in Perth, Leonie was working at Edith Cowan University in the area of mixed media education when she was recruited by Stephen, who was the head of Ultralab at the time. With subsequent changes, Stephen has become an international consultant, leaving a convivial and much overworked man called Richard, responsible for Ultralab’s continued survival. When she and Paul Jack separated to go their different journeys, Leonie’s half of the house was the money that Vivienne and I raised a mortgage to cover. She used her half to buy a house that was being built at Pinakarri, of which she and Paul.were founding members. Debbie, whom Leonie had brought to live with them in Perth, Paul’s disabled daughter, now lives at Pinaarri herself.

I arrived at Ultralab, which is a short walk from the Chelmsford Railway station laden with luggage and tired from my journey that morning from Cindy’s. It was the first of May, the international day of Labour, and in Syracuse, where Cindy and her husband Jack live, renowned for two events. Firstly on the nearest summit, a short walk from Cindy’s house, beside a water-tower, people from as far away as Ithaca come to do Morris Dancing and to dance around the Maypole. It seemed so very British, but was great fun as differing teams of Morris dancers, dressed in differing costumes from the conventional to quite radical, using staves, swords, and handkerchiefs took turn. There was also a Mummer’s Play, a story in which the king (a woman) and the queen (an elderly white-bearded man in bright yellow wig and frock) were contesting Cindy’s daughter had in past years been a dancer, and greatly missed being a performer.

After the dancing we all went back to the “Grassroots Community” for Mayday breakfast, of bagels and cream cheese, which was also a tradition established for some time. From there I jumped into my car and drove to Rebecca Sue’s for the second time, as I had left my blue file, with many of my important papers at the Cinema about 3 days before. We had been to see “Joyeaux Noel” together, an important movie based on the real events of Christmas 1914. It left me feeling hopeful, not only at is portrayal of basic human decency, which first must be in some way perverted to enable people to slaughter one another. But even more deeply, it showed me a history of what might have been, a possibility of what could have happened if the events of that Christmas had been allowed to spread down the Western Front, and peace had broken out. The War could have stopped, and we would have had no Hitler, no Holocaust, no Stalin and no gulag. How different the world could have been. Without the baggage of National Socialism and Bolshevic Extremism, perhaps we would have seen the spread of Democratic Socalism, rather than the long Cold War, and the Triumphalist Capitalism that is taking the world into a new era of ecological collapse, poverty and destruction. I wrote to the “Seedlings”, who have completed the 30 day Training in Deep Time, Lunar Time, and Dreamtme, that we ran in January 2006 “Joyeaux Noel. Go and see it! Its not to be missed! It is a beautifully done movie, full of surprises. It is about loving your enemies and about how dangerous that really is to those in power. It shows how the power system maintains itself by shaming men for that which is most beautiful in them, and for seeing others as human beings. None of the sides portrayed were demonized – all you see is humans under immense strain in dehumanizing circumstances. And at the end, when the German troops are shipped east to the Russian front and the battle of Tannenberg they were humming a Scottish song – dreaming of home. Its not difficult, all we need is to let our hearts be real and genuine. We just need to let our hearts be true, as the movie was not about changing people. It shows that it was the powers that be that be sought to change them from what they naturally were. The bishop who comes to replace the padre, preaches that Jesus is bringing a sword – and this is the Jesus that many believe is coming – a hero on a white horse with a sword to defeat the non Christians and the unsaved. It is the Jesus of George Bush, who rather than loving our enemies believes that those who are not with us are against us. And yet how different history could have been, if our leaders had had the courage to let peace break out along the Western Front in Christmas 1914. No Nazis, no second world war, no holocaust, no Stalin. Probably no nuclear weapons, no proliferation. What a different world. And all because on the Western Front, soldiers put down their guns, singing Silent Night.

Maybe there is an alternate world where that really happened. Even if we don’t live in that world, it makes it almost bearable that it could exist. That movie is an inspiration to us all to build that world that could have been. In their trenches, those men had no idea that a movie was going to be made about that night. If only all the soldiers in Iraq could see that movie. The nostalgia for that world that could have been is almost palpable. It is as if it is almost touchable, just on the other side of a filmy membrane – one can almost touch it. It is a great movie. It is easy to see why it won the Palme d’Or a the Cannes film festival.

So … – get yourself to the trenches of your nearest movie theatre, arm yourself with the appropriate tissues. And treat yourselves to a great and tragic real event.”

At the movie’s I had the presentment that I ad left something behind as Rebecca Se and I left. It was only the following day that I discovered what it was. Rebecca Sue had taken me to her parent’s house where I tried to track it down. It was not at June’s Café, where I had been working for much of the day. Nor was it at the Soup Kitchen where we had gone for dinner. Both seem to be institutions for “alternative minded” folks at Ithaca. I had been approached for an interview on alternative currencies, on the local radio, that morning, but it could not be found. It was only on leaving Rebecca Sue and her mther (who seems like an older version of our Rebecca Sue, but not as wild or revolutionary, and a lot more settled in her strong Catholic faith and secure marriage), and arrived at Cindy’s that I received an email that the papers had been found. There was a chance that Rebecca Sue would come to the May Day celebrations, but if not, I would swing past there on my way to New York, and JFK airport after the May Day Breakfast, and retrieve them.

The trip to New York proved to be interesting as I had spent all of my American dollars and so had no money for the Tollways. To make matters worse, there was a huge protest of hundreds of thousands of Migrants and their supporters, campaigning on behalf of the so-called 11 million “illegals” (those who have largely entered the USA without papers from Mexico or points further south). They were meeting at Union Square, at the site of where I needed to return the car, and then I would have the problem of paying for the taxi to JFK. It appears, that unlike Australia, taxis take cash only – they would not accept my Credit Card. I was doubly stuck, and wondered how I would resolve these issues in time to arrive at JFK 2-3 hours before my departure for London at 10.30pm that evening.

I stopped at the first tollway, and went into their offices. I explained the situation, and here we see in operation the kind of people I found Americans to be. I explained my situation. The manager of the tollway reached into his pocket and withdrew from his own wallet the cash I would need to proceed. He said, I did not need to return it to him. (But I will, such generosity needs to be rewarded – it seems understandable that this country was the one which coined the phrase “Practice Random Acts of Kindness and Senseless Beauty”.) The staff in the office also explained that in returning the rental care to Manhattan I should avoid the George Washington Bridge and take the Henry Hudson Freeway, the only non-tollway access to New York (unlike the Lincoln Tunnel et al). My first problem had been solved. But how was I to return the car when the streets were all blocked off by police cordons guarding the route of the protest?

In the end I just parked the car on a side of the street, and walked through the marching column of thousands to the place where I had hired the car on arriving in New York from Vancouver. The staff there told I could return the car to any Alamo office, and gave me a map showing all the National Hire Car locations. I asked, “why National, I need Alamo?” The woman explained that they were the same company. Thus even though there was no Alamo rental car location at JFK International Airport, there was a National one. Second problem solved. Instead of taking a Taxi to the airport (which would have cost $50 US that I did not have, and would have difficulty getting) – I could take the hire car to the airport instead. Leaving Manhattan by the route I had taken when I had driven upstate to see Simon, I then made my to the airport, caught the circle-route Airtrain in ample time and flew on the red-eye special to Heathrow. Arriving at Heathrow at 10.30am (After a 6 hour flight, and feeling exhausted, I took the Underground to Liverpool Street Station, before changing to the One line to Chelmsford.

Well that about brings you all up to date for the moment.

More adventures to follow.

John

Current passport photo of myself 

The John Croft Gaia Pilgrimage Project

Thursday 2nd March - Departure Day minus 5

Noongar Greeting for Visitors

Gaia
Yes! Hello There

Nitja ngalaar kaalalgap, noonagat nitja bookadja yaalbillie woortbillie,
This is our fireplace home, you all here/this over there this-side away-side,

nitja boodjar ngalaar kaalagap
this land-soil-earth our fireplace home
-----------------
Wodern-ngat, Moord-ngat, Victoria Park nidja, yarkin doorntch
Ocean by (near by the ocean), Darling Scarp by (near the Darling Scarp) Victoria Park this, standing together
We are here together at Victoria Park.

Nidja Noongar boodjarr, nidja kwopidaa boodjarr, nidja yaarkin doorntch
here (this) Noongar country, here (this) beautiful land, here standing
together

Why a Greeting in Noongar?

The Wadjug Noongar people are the traditional owners of my hearth-place, Gaia House, 35 Camberwell Street, East Victoria Park, the place from which this Pilgrimage will commence, and the place where in 12 months time, the Pilgrimage will end. For people looking for information on the Wadjug Noongar I invite them to check out the information at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whadjuk and at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noongar.

From these sites you will learn that the Aboriginal inhabitants of this land are not only the oldest surviving culture on the planet, that they constitute amongst the oldest modern Human Homo sapiens group found outside Africa, and that they have been living in this region for over 70,000 years! Considering that modern humans have only lived in Europe fro about 35-40,000 years, this is an amazing achievement. You will also learn a little about how Wadjug Noongar dispossession of their country has resulted in enormous social distruption and continuing cost to all Western Australians.

Also, Western Australians generally understand a number of ways of saying "Hello" in other languages (eg Bon Jour, Guten Tag, Buenas Dias etc), but very few can say hello (i.e. Gaia) in the indigenous language of their own home. I include the Noongar greeting as an unapologetic attempt to educate us settler people in the languages of the country we have seized from the indigenous first nation peoples of this land.

A little more Community Education.

To acknowledge the traditional owners of this country of Australia, I invite everyone reading this Weblog to change your mailing address to include the Aboriginal name of your bioregion. What is a bioregion? The Global Biodiversity Assessment defines bioregion as "A territory defined by a combination of biological, social, and geographic criteria, rather than geopolitical considerations; generally, a system of related, interconnected ecosystems." Most people in Western countries can relate to the geo-political units to which they are a part but are woefully ignorant of the bioregions they inhabit, with the result that their lifestyles are cancerous and destructive of the integrity of the environments in which they live.

So what is your bioregion? Look at the map attached at the site http://www.samuseum.sa.gov.au/page/default.asp?site=2&page=TIN_Tribal and you will be able to find your own natural bioregion.

Now on your address, insert your bioregion name IN EVERY LETTER YOU WRITE FROM NOW ON!

In my case

My address for snail mail (which can be forwarded to me) is

John Croft
Gaia House
PO Box 1417
East Victoria Park
Wadjug Bioregion
WA 6981
Australia

Enough Education for the moment!

Welcome to John Croft's weblog for his world-wide "Gaia Pilgrimage" Project. This project will be John's major Gaia Foundation project for the next 12 months, and will end with his return to Perth Western Australia, in March 2007.

Are you in the right place?

There are many John Croft's in the world. My GP has 5 all of whom attend the Victoria Park Medical Service (it makes fun when I go to my doctor, I have to make sure he is entering my medical details on the right file. The attached photo is of the creator of this Weblog.

This weblog will contain photos, stories and information of my journey around the world. This is not just a tourist jaunt. My intention is that this project will meet the three criteria of all Gaia Projects

1. It will be a project of personal growth for me
2. It will be a project that strengthens the communities of which I am a part
3. It will be a project that works in service to the Earth.

So folks, I invite all visitors to this blog site to Indroduce yourselves and start by creating for yourself personally, an intention for you that would make my journey (and your frequent visiting of this blog) worth your while.

"Em tasol, bai mi lukim yu"

(That's all, see you later)

For the Earth

John