Post 235--"Human Rights"

Recently the European Court of Human Rights upheld an Austrian woman's conviction of calling Prophet Muhammad a pedophile. The conviction, it ruled, did not restrict her freedom of speech. The "Court's" judgement was approved by a higher court apparently who ruled that the earlier one had "carefully  balanced her right to freedom of expression with the right of others to have their religious feelings protected."  She is said to have publicly declared that the Prophet's marriage to a young girl was akin to "pedophilia."  Back in 2011 she was convicted of "disparaging religious doctrines" and ordered to pay a fine of  $713 plus costs, a ruling that was also upheld in higher places (The Associated Press, Vancouver Sun, October 26, 2018). 

I do not know enough about that marriage to argue for or against the woman's opinion.  Even if I had enough data to support her opinion, I would definitely not state it this way in public. As a Christian, I have no desire to insult what my neighbour holds dear and precious, even if I disagree with him. I may wish to convince him of another truth and change her mind about his own, but I would do so with respect in the fashion of dialogue, where two partners explain their different opinions, opposing, contradictory opinions even, but always with respect. 

The only time I would turn more vociferous would be when "the other" becomes unjust or oppressive. If it were an extreme case, I might lose it.

You may have noticed that I placed quotation marks around "court" in the first paragraph. There's a good reason for that, at least from the Canadian point of view. Canadian human rights "courts" are anything but courts. Not infrequently they are described as "kangaroo courts." They hand out sentences without the solid data that characterize the more standard courts.  I've had no experience with them, but I read the newspapers and too often read about the soft "legal" --there's those quotation marks again!-- reasoning practiced in these  "courts," reasoning based more on bias and prejudice than on facts and legalities. Whether this holds true for their parallels in the EU, I am not sure.   

Of course, Christians who read the Bible literally can find plenty of excuses for berating other religions. The Old Testament (OT) makes short thrift of the pagan religions that surround Israel without any attempt at showing respect. The New Testament (NT) has its own examples. Jesus, in fact, castigates the leaders of His own religion something fierce, for having twisted its spirit and turning it into a vehicle of oppression. He leaves our Austrian woman far behind in the dust with His insults! The issue for Him was that the good of the best religion was so thwarted and abused that it became impossible for our Lord even to control Himself. He became totally disrespectful in public! He became a model revolutionary!

So, there is a place for lack of respect, for telling it as it really is, but there has to be a pretty good reason for that. Jesus pushed the line for appropriateness; I would  not go beyond Him, for His was based on true insight and wisdom and on love for the poor who were the victims.

In today's Vancouver, the egoism and greed of the property owners would probably evoke the same outburst from Jesus as did the religious leaders of His day. It is no wonder that entire groups of residents blare and yell it out in often brutal language. It is a shame that the Church and individual Christians are playing the same game as their secular counterparts. I am ashamed of them and am moving closer to shouting down especially church leaders who only bring bandages and ambulance service to the homeless, instead of attacking the systemic issues of greed and selfishness. 

But, to come back to our Austrian lady, should she have said what she did?  I would probably say "no."  But should she have the legal freedom of speech to say it?  I would probably say "yes."  Freedom of speech should not be restricted by emotions and bias. Political correctness is going too far. But that's human rights "courts" for you.  

Post 189--Taize Prayer--What and Where in Vancouver

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you may have heard of Taize Prayer. You may be curious about it as I have been. For some reason I never actually bothered to check them out, but today I came across this local (for Vancouverites) article giving a fairly clear picture of it. For me, the surprising thing is that it is right under my nose here in Vancouver BC--only a 30-minute walk from my place. The peculiarity of its location is that it is housed in what is known as Canada's poorest postal code. That is, in the ESDT or East Side Down Town.  But, perhaps this isn't so peculiar; that may be its natural home.

Another peculiarity of Taize Prayer is its popularity with young people.  I am a supporter of the Institute for Christian Studies (ICS) in Toronto, a private, small Christian post-graduate Institute of the highest order and of rigorous research and studies. Our problem is that though our students are young people from all over the world, its supporters are just about exclusively seniors.  That is disturbing to us, for who will take our place when we have left the scene?  We are looking at young people and wonder how we can attract them  into the circle of supporters.  In other words, how will it continue without young people?

But here we are with this global movement that may seem stale to outsiders or overly spiritual but attractive to young people. What gives? What is the difference?  What is the Taize secret? 

I'm now thinking I should go visit the place and check it out. You might do well to investigate whether there might be a chapter in your city and check it out for yourself.  In the meantime, I invite you to read the forwarded article by Alicia Ambrosio. I like both her name and her article. Go for it!

Leap of Faith: The distraction-free peace of Taizé prayer

Alicia Ambrosio / Westender

OCTOBER 10, 2017 12:04 PM   Westender

I’m standing on the corner of East Cordova and Gore streets looking at the facade of a church that looks very much shuttered for the evening. “It looks closed,” my astute sidekick observes as we climb the steps of St. James Anglican Church, trying not to disturb the local resident who has tucked in for the night at one end of the stairs. Indeed, the front door is closed.

We try the sides of the church and, on Cordova Street, find a sign with an arrow pointing towards an open gateway. Cell phone flashlights in hand we follow the walkway until we reach a courtyard and see a warm, glowing light flooding from an open door. This is the entrance to the Blessed Sacrament chapel at St. James – a space reserved for weekday masses and, tonight, for a Taizé prayer gathering.

The Taizé prayer style gets its name from Taizé, France, where a religious community made up of men from different Christian denominations live and work. The Taizé community hosts week-long retreats for young people and has developed a unique style of candle-lit prayer based on scripture, short, simple songs in multiple languages, and long periods of silence.   

Inside the chapel at St. James church, seats and low stools have been arranged in a semi-circle around a cluster of candles on the floor. A young woman with a short crop of dark hair pads around barefoot lighting the candles on the floor and the altar, while three young boys entertain themselves on the floor with unlit candles. She introduces herself as Elisha and invites us to take a seat while she finishes setting up. 

Just when it looks like tonight’s session will be an intimate affair, Elisha turns off the overhead lights, sits on a cushion by the candles, and a group of about half a dozen people silently flood into the chapel. My friend whispers, wide-eyed, “They’re all young people!!”

There are a few moments of silence, before Elisha pulls a large Bible towards her and reads Psalm 94. The reading is followed by more silence, and then the most glorious a cappella music begins. The song is two lines in Latin: “Ubi Caritas et Amor, Ubi Caritas Deus Ibi Est” (meaning “where charity and love are, God is there”) and the melody is just two or three notes repeated over and over. Soon everyone in the chapel is singing, the sound gently bouncing off the high ceiling and filling the cool, candlelit air.

 

I’m not a touchy-feely person of faith, but at a certain point I was surprised to realize my cheeks were wet and my eyes were blurry. At the end of the evening I noted I was not the only person in the chapel who experienced such an effect.

The pattern – a Bible passage, silence, then two or three similarly simple songs – is repeated three times over the course of an hour. After the last song is sung, the lights stay off and the candles stay lit and people get up and leave when they feel ready. “I usually let people stay for quite a while after,” Elisha tells me as we stand in the courtyard chatting.

Taizé prayer evenings have been taking place at St. James on the first Wednesday of every month for almost two years.

The Taizé Community was founded by Roger Schutz in 1949. Today the community is made up of more than a hundred men who make promises to live simple, celibate lives. Most members of the community live in Taizé, while some have been asked to live in disadvantaged parts of the world.

Today the community in France hosts thousands of visitors every year, the vast majority of them young people. Living is simple: dorms or tents. Guests are asked to do regular chores and take part in a variety of workshops, on topics like, “Why poverty is not inevitable and how can we prevent it?” or, “Christians and Muslims living together today” and, “The world changes, ethics remain, what’s my place in that?”

Three times a day church bells sound and everyone gathers together for prayer in the typical Taizé style.

Elisha had a chance to visit the Taizé community a few years back. “I was expecting this contemplative retreat experience, and then bus loads of French high school students arrived and I thought, ‘Oh no.’” To her surprise, the teens kept each other in line and took part wholeheartedly in the community chores, workshops and prayers. The experience drove home for Elisha the belief that all people, especially young people, yearn for peace, stillness and the chance to connect with something bigger than themselves.

Back in Vancouver she felt moved to make Taizé prayer available locally. She knew the chapel at St. James well, having attended the church for many years, and was able to get permission to use the chapel once a month. With the help of a pastor from Artisan Church, a community church based in Railtown, she began hosting the monthly Taizé nights.

Elisha’s only hope was that “in the business of life filled with constant distraction and stress” she could provide a way for people to stop and be still. “We’re constantly distracted, and it’s only when you’re not distracted that you realize you’re unhappy. And when you realize that, you start to ask, ‘What else is there?’ and the only answer is that there has to be something bigger than us.”

In the space and time provided by an evening of Taizé prayer, she hopes people will start asking those questions, and find answers.

• Taizé prayer evenings are held at St. James Anglican Churchthe first Wednesday of every month at 7:30 p.m., in the chapel. St. Andrews United Church is hosting a Taizé contemplative evening on Oct. 15 and Nov. 19.

• After graduating from Simon Fraser University with a degree in communication, Alicia moved to Rome, where she got an unexpected start covering religion. Stints in Toronto, Madrid and Toronto followed, culminating with her return home to the West Coast. Alicia has worked as a television producer and host, and is currently a freelance writer for Aleteia and Catholic News Service, as well as Leap of Faith, the Westender's blog on faith and spirituality in Vancouver.

Post 182--Irresponsible Boaters Saddle Me with E.coli and Taxes

A Wimpy City Council Enables Irresponsible Boaters

I live in one of the most desirable places in one of the most livable places in the world, as world polsters insist. In fact, my city is often cited as the most livable of all cities.  I suspect that’s an exaggeration, gross even.  Perhaps it’s most desirable for the rich cats, like corporate CEO’s who are parachuted into the city along with their absurd salaries and perks.  It hardly can be the most desirable for the residents of Canada’s poorest postal code, the East Side of the city, popularly referred to as DTES or Down Town East Side. Neither can it be the most desirable for the mostly young people who cannot afford to get into the housing market because it has spiraled out of control and is way beyond them.  But for me and Fran, my wife, it is definitely the best of all cities in the world for a whole bunch of reasons I will not bore you with. 

The city?  If you’ve been reading my blogs, you will know it is none other than Vancouver, British Columbia, on Canada’s Pacific West Coast. We’ve lived on three continents and four countries; we’ve traveled to over 40 countries, but we for ourselves prefer Vancouver as a place to live above every other place, even those we have not visited. 

Our city location?  The West End (WE).  Where within WE?  Davie Village, the very centre of the street at Davie and Bute. The new plaza recently built amounts to our front yard and that has made it twice as pleasant as it already was, what with all the places we need to go within a few minutes walking—groceries, restaurants, dollar store, doctor, dentist, sea wall, Stanley and other nearby parks and swimming place, both in and outdoor--you name it and it’s there all within a few minutes.  Don’t even need a car to get around.  Legs and transit are all you need, thank you. If you have legs stronger than our senior ones, bikes are helpful as well.

But the place is not a paradise; it has its very serious problems and inconveniences—and some yucky places that just plain make you mad. Just four blocks down the steep hill from our rental unit there’s the Sea Wall alongside False Creek, a beautiful place to walk, saunter, sit, relax and enjoy. If you need proof of that, come and check out the crowds making use of the place on any sunny and even not-so-sunny days. 

So what’s the problem?  Crap, that’s what it is. Sorry for the coarse word, but what it describes cannot be put in polite Christian language.  You need a more acceptable word? Well, the article from I am drawing uses the term “waste.”  For me, that doesn’t do it; it’s much worse. It’s the crap that boaters dump into the waters of False Creek and has so contaminated the place that its level of E.coli is too high for safe swimming.  Fran and I cannot swim in that most beautiful and natural swimming place just down the street from us.

And that only because of egoistic and irresponsible boaters who can’t be bothered using the facilities that are in place to dump their crap.  The city has been offering two free sewage pump-out stations for people to use, but you think they care enough to take the trouble?  No, too much trouble.  Jonathan Paetkau, a company that is now providing the new additional  free pump-out service, suggests that “one of the main reasons people are not using the city pump-outs is it takes a lot of time to move your boat off the dock, take it to a pump-out , pump it out and take it back to the dock.”  However, “if there’s a way they can pump out their boats without that stress, they are happy about that.”  Another boater said, “The whole pump-out situation was too messy, too stinky and really haphazard.” So, just dump it into these pristine waters in the middle of a great city and let the community suffer from it. Who cares?

The new facility referred to consists of two pump-out boats that visit the boats and relieve them—again free of charge,  at least, to them, but I pay for it via taxes.  So, here we have another case so typical of this city. Instead of forcing responsibility on people, they find a tax-supported way of evading responsibility for eliminating the problem without forcing a change in behaviour.  Not even when His Handsomeness, the Mayor, admits publicly that these boaters “have no business pumping any of their sewage into False Creek.”  Indeed, but does the Mayor have any business charging me for the privilege of boat life that these people apparently love?  I think not.

I believe I have a better suggestion.  At the beginning of the city’s tax year, charge an annual fee to each boater, enough to cover the average annual cost of dumping and some extra to pay for this programme. When at the end of the year a boater can show receipts for having been a responsible dumper, he gets a rebate or it gets applied to the next year. No receipts, no rebate, and that annual fee will apply each time. If the fee is not paid in time, the boat gets hauled away at owner’s expense.

There may be some problems with this approach, especially legal, lawyers will see to that, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. And that’s the problem with the fathers of this most beautiful or livable of most cities: they have no will. They prefer to crawl around a problem to facing it head-on. A city run by lack of resolve. It’s costing me and in the meantime, I have to go elsewhere to swim.

The main source for this post is Wanyee Li, “Mobile pump-out service launches in False Creek.”  MetroNews, August 16, 2017, p. 4. http://www.metronews.ca/news/vancouver/2017/08/15/vancouver-launches-free-mobile-pump-out-services-for-false-creek-boaters.html.  Thank you, Li.

      

Post 130—Prostitution Gone Mainstream?

Out of / in Nigeria

You may remember that I spent 30 years in Nigeria, from 1966-1996.  Even though that’s been 20 years ago now, it still seems like yesterday. Since I left the country, I have written 13 books and many articles on my work there, including Christian-Muslim relations and mission memoirs. Thus, though I was physically away from Nigeria, psychologically, emotionally and mentally I was/am still there. Even today, due to sleep apnea, I dream frequently and by far most of my dreams are still about Nigeria.

During the course of my ministry in Nigeria, I often traveled far and wide. One car trip I stayed overnight in a “local” hotel, places few Caucasians frequent; we prefer the more modern and convenient ones. I chose a local one just to see what they are like and what goes on there. It was not a pleasant or comfortable place to stay, though much cheaper, something that does a Dutch heart like mine good. 

Hymn-singing Prostitute

Like most Nigerian hotels, prostitutes were abundant. I overheard one of them humming and even softly singing Christian hymns. So I screwed up my courage and asked her how she could be singing Christian hymns while practicing prostitution. Her story broke my heart. She was from Ghana, where she had married with two or three children. Her husband abandoned her and her children. She tried every which way to provide for her children but was not successful. In her wanderings she ended up a prostitute in this Nigerian hotel. She could see no alternative.

Jesus and Prostitutes

Her story immediately reminded me of Biblical stories about Jesus and prostitutes. Go to John 7:36-50; 8:1-11 and to Luke 7:236-50.  If you want to read further on the subject in the Bible, just google “Jesus and prostitutes” and you’ll get a very full plate of stories and commentary on these stories. I am an emotional person and had to work hard at containing my emotions at  her story and those about Jesus all at once. This was the first and only time in my life that I consciously sought out a prostitute, even if it was only to satisfy my curiosity about her story. But the Jesus stories told me one thing very clearly: I was in no position to judge her.

Prostitution in Vancouver

The above paragraphs form the backdrop to this and the next post about prostitutes in my city, Vancouver, Canada. (When you write about Vancouver, you always need to specify which Vancouver, since there is a smaller city by that name in the south of the American state of Washington.) 

Apology to Sex Workers

On September 17, 2016, about three weeks ago, the Vancouver Sun featured a story on p. A16 with the heading “West End sex workers get civic apology,” written by Glen Schaefer, with the subheading, “City unveils memorial to trades people driven to margins during 1980s.” The article was flanked by a picture by Ben Nelms I might have included in this article if I had the digital know-how for it. As it is, I can only reproduce the caption underneath the picture. It reads, “Indigenous transgender sex work activist Jamies Lee Hamilton, left, and University of British Columbia professor Becki Ross unveil on Friday a memorial—a retro lamp-post with a red bulb—that has been dedicated to sex-trade workers of Vancouver’s West End Community.” 

Now I live in that part of Vancouver and do remember the stories people told me about the situation in the West End (WE). The entire “industry” had been wiped out by the time we arrived on the scene in 2001. We were still left with quite a contingent of homeless folk and addicts, who were also under pressure to move out of the area, though today they are re-invading the area with a vengeance. Had my wife and I heard of the ceremony ahead of time, we probably would have attended it out of pure curiosity, since it took place within three short blocks from us. On the evening of Sept. 17, we did take a stroll there and, sure enough, there was that new retro lamppost with clear inscriptions and a red light on top, right in front of St. Paul’s Anglican Church. A very respectable memorial at a very respectable residential/church location.

Reversal of Attitudes

How things have changed during these short 15 years that we have lived in the WE.  During that decade and a half the official attitude had been turned upside down from chasing out these prostitutes—and their clients!—to apologizing for that act!  Ross, the UBC sociology specialist in the sex trade, spoke the following:

"The early 1980s marked the full fledged anti-
prostitution crusade to purge sex workers from 
the WE. Davie sex workers built the foundation of 
what would become this city’s first Gay-
neighbourhood, and yet hookers on Davie have 
never been honoured as the former fighters for 
gender, sexual and racial minorities.”

Though I hesitate to “correct” a sociology expert on the topic, my understanding of the background to the WE’s gay culture is that it goes way back to nearly a century ago. I doubt that these prostitutes—and I insist on calling a spade a spade—laid that foundation. Ross will have to persuade me of that.

Maybe, just maybe, more on the subject next time. I will try….

Post 116 Extreme Hospitality

Nigerian Hospitality

If there is anything I have learned during my 30 years in Nigeria it is hospitality.  Nigerians have been so generous to us when it comes to hospitality, as they are to their own people. One can drop in on Nigerian friends and you are immediately invited to join them in a meal if that happens to be their agenda at the moment. This is true not only of the well-to-do, but just as much of the poorer among them. Now, there is a downside to that. Extending such hospitality to an unexpected guest can be at the expense of family members who may have to do with leftovers, especially children.

Any Nigerian who reads the above paragraph may object to it. Nigeria is a square box containing 400 different nations, cultures and languages. There is no way you can say anything about traditional culture that will hold for all of these cultures. Expatriates who have lived in other parts of the country sometimes marvel at our stories from the country’s Middle Belt. They have not always experienced such hospitality.  But for us, we have always been deeply impressed by that cultural feature.

And, of course, after being exposed to that for 30 years and having benefited from it so many times, it could not help but rub off on  us. My wife and I have also become very hospitable, so much so that the people among whom we now live in Vancouver, Canada, are amazed at how open our door is and how readily we have people we did not expect join us at our table. Thank you, Nigeria, for teaching us such a Christian virtue. 

Western Hospitality

Yes, hospitality is a Christian virtue, though not only Christian. Plenty of other people share that virtue.  But Nigerians tend to laugh at us in a kind of derisive way. They joke that, according to their experiences in the Western world, we are so inhospitable that if we want to visit our grandmother, we have to make an appointment at least two weeks in advance! I had become somewhat estranged to Western ways and denied that “accusation.” 

However, upon our return to the West, more specifically, to Vancouver, I found they were not that far off. Since I immigrated from my birth country, The Netherlands, at age thirteen, I have had little experience with my own grandmothers during my adult years. None whatsoever in Vancouver. However, I was surprised at how inhospitable Vancouver really is. Vancouverites will entertain you, but very seldom in their house. It’s just about always in a café or restaurant by which we are totally immersed here in downtown. It’s even true of the near-by church we attend, though, I am happy to report, not of my other church, the Christian Reformed Church.

And not only Vancouver.  When my wife and I were RV-ing through the American South and attended a city church, they welcomed the guests among them and assured us that they were very hospitable. If we needed a good restaurant for dinner after the service, all we would have to do is ask and they would point us to the good ones in town!  Hospitable?  Yea, right!  In contrast, when we attended a rather conservative Reformed type of church in BC’s “Bible Belt,” we ended up at the dinner table of a large family of seven children. We had never had any contact before. 

Dutch Hospitality--Stories

Why do I write of hospitality in this post? Because of the “extreme” hospitality we experienced in Lutjegast, my birth village in The Netherlands (NL) with a population of around 1,000.  It’s a follow-up to the previous post that I feel compelled to write; it was that surprising and extreme—but not everything extreme is negative. My parents lived in Lutjegast from 1929-1951. My father ran a barbershop, while my mother ran a growing family and, for a few years, a hair salon for ladies. I was thirteen when we emigrated to Canada in 1951.  By 2016 pretty well all memories of our Boer barber family had been erased in the village except among the elderly. 

Two days we wandered around in Lutjegast, partially by car, partially on foot. We came to the church where I was baptized as a baby and met someone living near it. We introduced ourselves, but he had never heard about us. Nevertheless, he invited us into his house for a coffee. There we sat in the dining room, surrounded by the entire family, drinking coffee and chatting about past when we lived there. That was the first one. An hour or so later, as we were looking for a niece who, I had reasons to believe, lived in the town. In the course of the search, we knocked on someone’s door. A lady opened the door and, after our brief introduction, again invited us inside for a tea with her and her husband. They had vaguely heard of some Boer family, but that was all. 

Our second day in the village, a Saturday, we were supposed to meet a cousin of mine who lived elsewhere. We would meet at the church in the centre of Lutjegast. We arrived early to find a spot where we could visit, but did not find anything. The only thing open was a hair salon. We entered to ask them about a place in the village where we could have a coffee. The lady told us that the village really does not have a suitable place for that, but she immediately invited us to visit with our guests around the table in her shop and she would serve us coffee!  We did not accept the invitation since it was not really a suitable environment for the kind of visit we envisioned. But it was another amazing hospitality event.

Soon my cousin and husband drove into the church yard. The custodian met us and after the by now customary introduction, he not only showed us the inside of the renovated church but also invited us for a coffee and cooky in the church hall, where we could sit as long as we wanted. 

Personally, I think that pattern of hospitality to strangers is remarkable. My appreciation for my birth village soared. I am in the process of writing a more detailed report of this hospitality in the Dutch language to be published in the local village paper to express our appreciation not only, but also to make sure they enjoy a positive self-image. They are not just some village duds as some city slickers may think; they display the image of God in their hospitality. 

But we ran into this trait throughout our trip.  We had three main hosts in three different parts of the country and all went far beyond the normal standards of hospitality. Two of these were friends from different phases of our history, but they were absolutely superb. One of them housed us for ten days and nights. The most unexpected was the owner of Hotel Friesland. He took a liking to us and several times invited us privately for a tea and cooky.  A hotel owner! 

Concluding Comments

All in all, I am still a bit dizzy about all this hospitality. Can’t get over it. That’s why I write about it in such glowing terms.  Thank you, my Dutch friends, both old and new. And to my Nigerian friends I can only caution them that whatever unpleasant experiences they may have had in the West, their description of hospitality certainly does not resonate with my Dutch experience. I should probably close with a preemptive admission that race may at least partially account for the difference.    

Post 115—Our Dutch Trip--Reflections

I’m back!  And if I get this post online today, I’m back even earlier than promised on May 27.  And let me tell you, as wonderful as our trip was, there’s still nothing like home, which for me is downtown Vancouver BC.

Canada--My Home

Yes, home for me is in Canada, but I continue to have a strong feeling for two other countries. There is my birth country as well as Nigeria, the country where my wife and I spent 30 years in ministry, where we raised our family and, even after having left there 20 years ago, is still uppermost in my mind and affections. But for today, it is my birth country, NL—The Netherlands.

My Affection for Nigeria

My many Nigerian friends who read this post should not be jealous at my “divided” affection. Many things in life diminish when you share or divide them. When you give a $100 to one person that recipient gets more than when you divide it over two persons. But when you give love to one or two or a thousand persons, it does not diminish, each gets an equal share. Money divided diminishes; love or affection divided increases. That’s the nature of the beast. (I should probably call it “the angel” rather than “the beast.”) 

Besides, if you check my website ( www.SocialTheology.com) , you will find that I have paid much more attention, energy, time, money and, yes, affection on Nigeria than I have on the NL. At the same time, the background and perspective I utilized in my Nigerian ministry, including my many publications, have a definite Dutch philosophical and theological colouration, based as they are on the Kuyperian or Reformational school of thought. So, a nice mixture of these two cultures in my life with no need for either party to be jealous! Actually, I don’t believe anyone will be jealous in this situation, but there is nothing like  pre-emptying a negative possibility! But for this post and the next, it will be NL.

Flat and Green

Living as I do in BC (British Columbia, Canada), there is one thing that particularly strikes me every time I visit the “Old Country” is its flatness.  When I lived in Nigeria and visited the country, I was struck by its greenness. So fresh and green everywhere as soon as you leave the city. And that, in contrast to Nigeria’s seasonal green, all year round. But coming out of BC, it is the flatness of the country that is impressive, especially when combined with the green. It is interrupted only by the many man-made “hills” that serve as approaches to bridges or as overpasses.  Now such unending flatness may sound dull to those who prefer rolling hills or towering mountains, but in combination with the green, it creates beautiful breath-taking scenery wherever you go. I am not sure which of the two I would prefer to live in, flat or mountainous, but for a change, I simply loved it as my wife and I rolled through it all by means of train, bus, rental and even bike. The flat lusciousness of it all.

The Bike Culture

Living as I do in North America (NA), another thing that made my eyes grow green with jealousy is the large presence of bicycles (from here on referred to as “bikes”).  What a different love affair from NA’s love of cars. Bikes everywhere, no matter where you turn, except, of course, along express ways. Not being used to such heavy bike traffic, it was more challenging for us as pedestrians in the city to avoid collisions with bikes than with cars. They even have single-floor parking garages for bikes but often store them two high above each other, especially at bus and train stations. Bikes are used for most local trips as well as farther afield. They are used for serious transportation even more than for recreation, but their vacation use is the greatest demonstration of the Dutch love for the bike. Our hosts took us out biking into the country along a network of crisscrossing bike paths everywhere.

Various features of the bike culture struck me. Most people wear ordinary street clothes on their bikes; no special attire, even women in minis. No helmets and, not infrequently, no hands either, for they are needed for the smart phone as you negotiate traffic!  

Single bikes are good for transporting entire families!  A parent in/on the saddle doing the peddling, with one child on the back carrier and one in a special seat mounted on or behind the handle bar. Our main hostess told us that this is a major time of intimacy with your little tike at your front on your bike. And if your children are not on the actual bike, they could be sitting comfortably in a box mounted on the front of the bike, an arrangement called “bakfiets” or “boxbike,” two or even three at a time, but now we have graduated to three-wheelers.  

Another sociable feature of the bike culture is that with separate bike paths, people often ride side by side, chatting amicably as they go, so different from the sparse biking in Vancouver where it is always behind instead of next to each other. As to the bakfiets, it is also used to transport goods, sometimes in open, sometimes in covered boxes.

You’d think that flat country would make for effortless biking, but there is a hitch—strong winds that are as challenging as steep hills. From my own childhood I remember regularly coasting up one of these artificial hills, pushed along by strong winds, but peddling hard on the way down. I also remember peddling a bakfiets to deliver bread for a neighbouring bakery. So, as fascinating as I found the bike culture, it was not altogether new to me. I experienced all the above features at one time or another way back then. Though other forms of transport have greatly proliferated since then—cars, buses, trains—the bike has not lost its popularity or omnipresence in any way.  In fact, the bike has increased along with the country’s population.  

Mayor Robertson's Bike Challenge

I’m sure our Vancouver mayor’s eyes must be as green as mine were. I wish him all the success, luck and blessing he needs to make our city more bike friendly.  He has courageously pushed ahead in his bike programme in the face of much ridicule and opposition. I hope he will not relent. I believe he represents the future of our city when it comes to biking.  We once thoughtlessly embraced the car without considering many of its negatives or even being aware of them. It will take a lot of planning and politicking to undo the damage we have inflicted on ourselves and our environment.

Post 59—The Metro Vancouver Translink Plebiscite

Pete McMartin of VS was really upset when the citizens of Metro Vancouver rejected a slight additional tax to pay for Translink expansion (July 4, 2015).  He wrote a scathing column, using such strong language that a few days later the paper published an editorial openly disagreeing with their man (July 9, 2015).  Well, yes, they can’t afford to overly insult their readers as if they are bird brains. This is how McMartin describes his neighbours:

They’re resistant to change. They abhor densification. They’re conventional in their sensibilities and they’re highly dependent on the automobile. More importantly, they’re not just dependent on the automobile, they prefer it.

I would love to quote him for the rest of this post, but it might be illegal? So, a summary of his vitriolics has to do it for us. 

The excuse many use for not taking transit is that they would if it were near and more convenient. That, he charges, is an outright lie. He daily commutes by bus in less time than it takes a car, but the bus is seldom more than a quarter full. They voted “no” about a system they have never used and have no idea how well it works, whether good or bad. It does not occur to them that the system reduces the pressure on the road and thus those still driving also benefit from the subsidy. They reject a mere .5% tax hike subsidy for Translink, but think nothing of the subsidy of billions spent on roads and bridges that are forever inadequate and clogged. 

Though Vancouverites tend to see themselves as a special breed in a world-class city, McMartin finds that “we’re nothing special.” Our city “is like a hundred other cities. We can’t see past the ends of our driveways, much less into the future, and we don’t want to. The No side didn’t win the plebiscite. The car did.”

The subsequent editorial denied McMartin’s negatives and  insisted that the negative vote was the result of public mistrust of the Translink administration. Furthermore, while the No vote rejected the extra subsidy, it is already having a positive effect in that a movement has been created towards better and more efficient governance of Translink, including the firing of some of its top executives.  The Sun editorial supports the idea of moving the service from the Province back to Metro authorities, where it was a few years earlier, but snatched away by the Province.

Deep in my heart, I largely agree with McMartin, but he expressed himself too offensively for most people. I confess to enjoying his vitriolic. It is largely right on, not because people are ignorant so much as selfish, which leads to contradictions. 

I also largely agree with much of the editorial, but find that their its solution is superficial.  Some years ago, the provincial government took the service out of the hands of Metro authorities, who number over 20, each with its own agenda. It was difficult to move forward with so many strong-willed politicians at the table. To now return Translink back to these same authorities would be to set the clock back and restore the former blockage.

I believe that the basic solution is to amalgamate all these 20+ jurisdictions into one as, I understand, was done in Toronto.  The current makeup of Lower Mainland jurisdictions is nothing but ridiculous, absurd. It serves as a model for how not to organize local government. As long as we are so ridiculously fractured, it is unlikely that the Translink problems will be solved. 

Do I have any hope for this direction? Unfortunately, not at this point in time. Such a move  needs a popular movement to push it forward, something of which I see no sign at the moment. But surely, if we have been smart enough to organize our current Metro setup, we are also smart enough to realize that developments have overtaken that model and rendered it obsolete. Every progressive movement eventually spends itself and needs to be replaced by something more relevant to the succeeding newly developed contemporary situation. 

In closing, I do want it understood that it is not the current Translink mess that has brought me to this conclusion.  Behind this long-standing opinion is my rejection of  this selfish politics on the part of politicians, which is, I believe, the basic reason this clumsy system continues to exist. So, now we have to go back even one more step—overcome selfishness and personal or local ambition at the expense of the larger community. Remember the title of this blog: “My World—My Neighbour.”  We’re back to basic Christianity that’s open to the world and to the concerns of others—your neighbours.