Sour Cucumber Season

We call this time of the year in Switzerland sour cucumber time. It just means there is nothing going on at the moment, so our news sources have to try and find something interesting to keep people happy, problem being in Switzerland with only seven million inhabitants there is less news than in other countries where our population would fill a town and still have some room left.

At the moment one of the biggest stories is whether to allow the building of a minaret some of our various mosques or not. As in any large city, Zürich and Bern already have a couple of mosques with these minarets. No-one really seems to be bothered that much. We don’t have uprisings, and there is no revolution. The only rebellions we really have is when Zürich and Bern meet at a local football match. A few fights might break out, and the stadium might become a bit uncomfortable, but this certainly does not hit the world headlines.

So let us go back to our various mosques and minarets. Next to the company where I work there is a mosque. The only problem that we have is that on Friday afternoon at prayer time they might use our parking spaces for their cars, but since we have put a barrier between our space and the rest, this problem has disappeared. The political party calling for restrictions on this type of building are the Swiss People’s party, not my friends, very right wing and trouble makers. They have made so much trouble that their minister lost his job last year in the elections and they are still making trouble as the replacement does not suit this party, because the lady follows a different line of politics. I saw an interview with an imam from one of the mosques and he was asked if it would bother him when the minarets would be forbidden. He found not really, we will just try again.

In Switzerland we have voting by referendum now and again, meaning that every 2 or 3 months we all say yes or no to something deemed important by some of the people, but not all of the people. I have never forgotten the referendum when everyone decided that women should only be pensioned off at the age of 64, before it was 62 years old, meaning that I was suddenly confronted with two years more working life. I did not vote for this and am still wondering who did. It must have been a man.

So we are now all waiting for the next referendum about building a minaret on one of our many mosques. I told Mr. Swiss I couldn’t care less and he for once, as an exception, agreed with what I said. I found a minaret would look rather amusing with the background of Swiss alps and chalets. I wonder if they will start building Swiss chalets in Turkey?

And then in this sour cucumber time something came to my mind. I am sure Mr. Mad has many faithful followers tracing the developments of Mr. Tiddlywinkles, his owner, a cat, and other members of the Kitty Cat Club in his blog. At the moment Mr. Tiddlywinkles and Mr. Mad find themselves somewhere in the African continent meeting up with Abdullah bin Hadji Ahmad Candawai and this again reminded me of a song.

There was a singer in Switzerland called Mani Matter. He was a so-called chansonnier, wrote and composed his own songs in Bernese German and loved by all. His songs handled from events in Switzerland, amongst others telling of the Day when they enacted the story of William Tell in a Swiss village, and of all the catastrophes that happened. The song about when he lit a match for his cigarette resulting in the house burning down and many others. This is really a Swiss thing but my favourite is the story of Sidi Abdel Assar of El Hama which brings me back to the Works of Mr. Mad. I could not print the words as they are, because it is completely in Swiss German, but I translated in the idea of Mani Matter’s text. I generally do not write poetry because I am completely un-lyrical according to Mr. Swiss and in a way true. My life is completely based on logic. I can write poetry if it rhymes and my favourite poem is Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll which probably tells all. It is very nice to read about someone’s feelings expressed in a poem but I just cannot do that, probably one of the reasons that the songs of Mani Matter mean so much to me. He was born in 1936, married, father of three children, and met his untimely death in 1972 in a car accident, but is to this day not forgotten by the Swiss nation.

The Sidi Abdel Assar of El Hama
Went out in early morning in pyjama
In the street before the mosque
two beautiful eyes he cost
That was the beginning of his drama

It was the daughter of Mohammed Mosteep

The Abdel Assar could no longer sleep
Until he went to Mohamed
His hand he held and said
For the daughter I offer one hundred sheep

Mohammed answered “By Allah yes of course
Am glad my daughter has found love from your source
But if I want to sell
Costs 220 camel
And less I cannot go, not even for a horse

Then Abdel Assar said “O Sidi
Too expensive I cannot take this lady
She’s gone and I should know
to take a cheaper so
if not so pretty she would be more witty

But when the night comes over the Sahara
He gazes at the moon so bright and clearer
He grieves now and again

The eyes he wants to gain
And thinks I should have started saving earlier

I found a YouTube video so that you can get the idea of the tune, but this is not original and seems to have been made by a school choir. Sung in original Bernese German, but this is the tune. Mani Matter just used his guitar to accompany himself.

Fluffy has Problems

It was time for a Fluffy visit to the vets again. Over the last few weeks we were finding his white fluffy fur on our red carpet day for day. At first I just thought it was a fur coat change as it is now warmer weather. Suddenly we noticed he was looking a bit thin, so had a closer examination and discovered that his legs were not really thinner, but the fur was disappearing from the inside of his legs. It was the same symptoms that he developed after his accident some 3 years ago when he was blinded. We had a closer look and noticed that the fur had also disappeared from his tummy, he was quite pink.

“And Nera and Tabby kept calling me Baldy, Mrs. Human” piped up Fluffy
“Now that is not nice Nera, Tabby. How would you like it if your fur fell out.” I lost my temper with them a bit.
“Nera’s fur can’t fall out, Mrs. Human” said Fluffy “it is completely stuck together with twigs, flower seeds and dried up snails” and he sniggered behind his paws.
“Hissssss Fluffy, I have a good lick every day.” I noticed Nera was getting a bit angry.
“Of course my litter sister has a lick every day” said Tabby “she likes the taste of snails and insects. She even has a scratch now and again to get rid of the other inhabitants of her fur coat.”
“Well I didn’t have to go to the vet to have a hair restorer like Fluffy”
“You must think yourself very clever, Nera” and then I reminded her of the day a couple of years ago when I had to take her to the vet for a haircut.
“You don’t have to bring those old stories up, Mrs. Human.”
“No, I don’t Nera, but by the look of your fur at the moment I think the time is coming for another short back and sides.”

“You are right Mrs. Human, sister Nera does look a bit moth eaten at the moment” said Tabby.
“So don’t change the subject, Fluffy is going bald.” And Nera hissed once more for a bit of emphasis.
“But the vet said it will get back to normal again, didn’t he Mrs. Human.”

I reassured Fluffy that everything would be ok. Fluffy was really a brave cat and when we drove off he didn’t even meow but seemed to quite enjoy the drive.

“And I even met another cat at the vets. He had a head like Tabby and a body like a Siamese. His humans said he was a mixture. We also saw the vet’s parrot again. He was sitting in his cage and Mrs. Human made a photo of him. I didn’t like it so much when the vet stuck his big needle in my leg, but afterwards when he was finished he put a bandage around my leg. Afterwards he gave me two injections in my tummy but told Mrs. Human that everything would now be ok and my fur coat will grow again. I enjoyed the drive back home. Mrs. Human put the car radio on so we had some nice music on the way”, which was Fluffy’s version of the trip.

The vet gave him a depot injection which means that he is getting masculine hormones regularly into his blood stream which will enable his fur to start getting back to normal. It was just a hormone disturbance he had. The vet also took some blood samples and when I phoned today the vet said everything was perfect.

“So you see, Fluffy, everything is otherwise ok, although we have to go back to the vet again tomorrow about your digestion. It seems you are swallowing a bit too much fur at the moment and that is making a bit of a mess to clear up.”
“Mrs. Human all respectable cats have to get rid of their fur balls now and again, one of the reasons why we eat so much grass.” Said Tabby
“My sister, is right” added Nera “although I never really have that problem with my beautiful shiny fur coat.
“Of course you don’t” said Fluffy “it’s just all stuck together with snail slime so you can’t swallow it can you”.
“Hisssss, I’ll get you, you balding Selkirk Rex, just wait.”
“Nera, the days of your quick movements are slowly disappearing, eat a bit less and you can catch me.”
“That cheeky balding fluffy monster is insulting me Mrs. Human”
“Nera, what do you expect. I think Fluffy has enough from your insults and he is right. You are definitely eating a bit too much at the moment.”
“I would leave them Mrs. Human” added Tabby “after all nobody’s perfect, although certain big black long haired cats seem to get a bit of star allure now and again. Now if they were all short haired tabby cats like me, this problem would not arise. A good scratch and a quick lick and I am always ready for a sleep. I don’t know why they have such problems.”

Actually that is true, Tabby is the cat that gives me less problems. Well at the moment her favourite sleeping place during the day is my desk chair so I have to make do with a hard stool with no backrest. Of course, cats rule at home and I can’t just shove Tabby off the chair now can I?

“I would hope not, Mrs. Human. It’s tiresome enough during the day to pick a nice sleeping place. When your oldest kitten is at work I can use his room, but as soon as he comes home in the evening he throws me out. I could go in the cushion on top of the cupboard, but that is for Winter sleeping. In Summer I prefer to be nearer to the great outdoors – you know, in case a mouse walks past by the window, then I can make a quick getaway.” So that was Tabby’s idea of an ideal feline life.

Aren’t cats just wonderful animals?

Pictures to Words: Kaosia

Part 1: At Home

“The Minister would like to see you Charles“
Charles knew that when Giles entered his office at the ministry without a knock on the door, it was an urgent matter. Charles also remembered the last time when he had to drop everything and help to solve the problem of whether or not to send the Romanov treasure back to Russia because Russia had decided to become Russia again and no longer something Soviet.
“What’s the problem Giles”
“Now come off it, you don’t think the minister fills me in on his grimy little details. You’re the expert for Eastern matters.”
So Charles made his way to the inner sanctum of the ministry. The door was open.
“Come in Charles, we have a problem.”
The minister always came quickly to the point. Last time he said “make sure the Romanov treasure stays here.” Which was easier said than done.
“Well if I can help, sir”
“You will have to help Charles. How do you feel about going on a little trip to one of those small countries that appeared after the Soviet Union became Russia.”
“You mean something like the Ukraine or Georgia Mr. Minister?”
“Not quite Charles, something more in the direction of Mongolia.”
“Good Lord, what business do we have in Mongolia. They only have tents, yaks and horses.” Charles was wondering what would come next.
“Not exactly Mongolia itself, Charles” said the minister, “but one of those smaller countries that have arisen since Russia let its states get on with their own independence, somewhere in the Mongolian region.”
“In which direction, sir, North, South, East or West?” Asked Charles.
“Well not really” said the minister “but quite near”.
This geographical puzzle was becoming a bit too much for the diplomatic side of Charles.
“Sir, Mr. Minister, please tell me where.”
“It’s in the middle of Mongolia. An independent state: It has always been there but no-one really took a lot of notice of it until they decided they wanted their independence. Known as Kaosia and governed by a chieftain and his family, all very civilised so I hear.”
The Minister had once again that look as if to say “do it or you can move your office back to the room between the toilets and the broom cupboard”.
“When do I have to go?” asked Charles. “It is now summer holidays at the public school and I was planning on going to Italy with the wife and the children.”
“Excellent Charles, then take your family with you. It would be ideal – a bit of contact between the two countries. It is very important for our country to be in when things start happening in Kaosia.”
“Sorry, Minister, I think I have lost the thread.”
“Just have a look at this Charles.”
The minister threw some tourist leaflets across the desk in the English language, the first showing the photo of three similing children, obviously oriental origin, with the words “Welcome to Kaosia for family holidays.”
“Well they are three happy beautiful children, but I don’t understand” said Charles “what does this have to do with a diplomatic mission?”
“Well that was just some general information, you can give the leaflets to your wife so that she can get prepared for the holiday. No, between us there is something else, but this is not determined for other ears. Look at this map of Kaosia taken by satellite.”
“Well I can’t see anything interesting. Just one town called Kaosin and a sort of lake coloured almost black.”
“That’s it Charles” the minister was excited “that is not just a lake but the place is swimming on oil, they don’t even have to dig for it. According to our satellites the chemical composition of that black stuff is 100% pure oil. So now do you see what I mean.”

After persuading his wife that the air in Kaosia was perfect for her complexion and telling the children that they would be going for an adventure holiday this year to Kaosia..........

“Where” said Jack age 12 and Jennifer aged 10 “that sucks”. The family were on a flight to Moscow where they would change planes for Ulan Bator, Kaosin being just four hours away by car.

Part 2: Kaosia

Meanwhile in Kaosin the Chieftain was getting ready to receive his guests. Chief Bat had told his wife Uuganaa and three daughters, Hulan, Nomin and Tulya that it was very important to impress their visitors from the United Kingdom.

Charles was surprised at the reception they were given at the airport. Chief Bat met them with a stretch limousine, not the broken down Moskva car that he expected. They were taken to the best hotel in Kaosin, the entrance hall being in Italian marble and the floor being covered with Chinese silk carpets. Charles’ family were very impressed. They were introduced to the Chief’s three daughters who looked remarkably similar to the three children shown on the tourist leaflets, although somewhat older.

“Yes, that’s our picture” said Hulan, the oldest daughter. “That was when we were younger. I sometimes miss the life we had in those days. Her reminiscences came flooding back. We would ride our horses over the hills and sleep in our tents out on the plains. Mother would cook our meals over an open fire and they tasted much better than the food we have today. Life has just become different.”
How different Charles and his family soon found out.

“Hulan” said Chief Bat “perhaps our guest’s children would like to lunch at our Macdonalds restaurant.”
“You have a Macdonalds in Kaosia?” asked Charles quite surprised.
“Oh yes” answered Chief Bat, “our American friends built one for us in the centre of our illustrious capital city. They fly the hamburgers in once a week, frozen of course. The teenagers of Kaosia just love them.”

So Jack and Jenny had lunch at Macdonalds with Chief Bat’s three daughters.
“Hey Jack, I didn’t think they would have a MacDonalds here in this place. Imagined something more like Yak hamburgers”
The three Kaosian sisters started laughing at Jenny’s remark.
“Did you understand what I said” Jenny asked
“Of course we did” answered the youngest daughter Tulya in perfect English. “Since we have oil we have money and our dad decided to modernise the country with the profits and our teacher gives us lessons in English, although I still like to think back to the good days when we were free. Learning other languages is fun, but riding a horse over the plains is better.”
“You have oil?” Jack was astonished
“Oh yes, we have oil” answered Nomin the middle sister. “Dad found a small stream of oil out in the wilderness and decided to dig around it to see how much oil was there. The more he dug the more oil appeared and eventually we have an oil lake”
“So what do you do with it” Jack was getting interested.
“Oh we just left it there, but suddenly dad was getting all these visitors from Moscow and even Washington. It was all about the oil we had.”
“Tell him the rest” said Tulya.
“Well dad was clever and said if they wanted to help with the oil they had to sign contracts as we were then independent from Russia.”
“So I will tell the rest.” Said Hulan “anyhow our country started getting rich. Dad said it was oil money. He used the money to improve our lives he said. Of course it is nice living in town with all the modern stuff.”
“But it’s just not the same fun as we used to have. Riding bareback over the plains, cooking over an open fire in our tent and hearing the stories of the olden days told by the members of our families.”
“That was fun” and Nomin joined in the conversation. “We would all sit around in the evening under the light of our oil lamps and our uncles and aunts would tell of the olden days.”
“Sort of Genghis Khan stuff” Jenny loved history at school.
“Not quite” said Hulan “that belongs to our countries history, something like the Angle Saxons.”
“Do people still live like that” asked Jack
“Outside the town, they do. Would you like to go there?”
“Would I? Definitely more fun than a hamburger in Macdonalds. What do you think Jenny, coming as well.”
“Oh yes” she answered thinking of what she could tell at school when she got back.

So that evening Charles family was invited to Chief Bat’s house for the evening meal and Jack spoke up (as the oldest male amongst the children – he was also the only one).”
“Dad, what do you think. Hulan, Nomin and Tulya said we could visit her family out on the plains. You know where the yaks walk around and you can go riding bareback on horses.”
“But darling, you might break a leg or something. Riding horses in Mongolia, sorry Kaosia, is not the same as in England.”
“Your mother is right you know” Charles felt he should say something, although reminiscing to his boyhood days he would have loved that chance.
Bat spoke “Was that your suggestion Hulan?”
“No it wasn’t sir“ said Jack, “but Hulan and her sisters Nomin and Tulya were reminiscing about the good old days in Kaosin and it seems they still exist.
“And it would be such fun to feed a Yak and eat food from an open fire, as well as hearing the stories of long ago” chipped in Jenny for good measure.
“Well, it seems you certainly had an interesting conversation at lunch.”
“I have an idea” said Bat’s wife, who was longing to see her relations again outside of town. “I will take them tomorrow with the jeep. Charles and his wife will be staying until the end of the week and the children can come with me.”
“Super”, the children said in unison.

Jack and Jenny did not break any bones in that week. Hulan, Nomin and Tulya were so happy to go back to how it used to be for a week and it was a great success. Even Charles’ wife joined them. Her recipe for cooking Buuz became famous at her dinner parties when they once again returned to England. Bat’s sister showed her how to make it from minced mutton wrapped in pastry.

While the families were away on the plains of Kaosia enjoying life as it used to be, Charles and Bat had their discussions on business. The British were promised 30% of the oil produced from the oil lake in Kaosia, meaning that 90% had now been divided amongst the Americans, Russians and British. However as a good will gesture Charles had to promise that David Beckham would train the national football team of Kaosia to prepare them for the next World Football Cup in two years. This was no great problem as Victoria Beckham just loved the luxurious life she could lead in Kaosia. They actually won the World Cup.

*************
Reminiscing over the past, Bat the Chieftain thought of that lucky day when he discovered the leak in the oil pipeline leading from Russia to China. At that time Russia had its own problems with Perestroika and independence and a little leak in a pipeline just went a bit unnoticed. Bat decided to make the leak a little bit bigger and soon Kaosia was “swimming” in oil. What could have been better for the modernisation of the little state in the middle of Mongolia. People still visit the country. A leaflet with three similing faces of the Chieftains daughters still works wonders for the country’s tourism.

Pictures to Words