Today I cleaned Liane's apartment! Why am I cleaning her apartment? As I cleaned I pondered this question, or should I say, while I cleaned I had the chance to ponder this question - when else could I ponder this?
...Or: while I cleaned I enjoyed pondering this thought! The obvious answer and one that isn't entirely false on this occasion is that I'm doing it to be kind to my girlfriend. But this is not the entire truth. Sadly, I somewhat enjoy cleaning! Furthermore - let me be honest - I'll also enjoy (derive pleasure from) Liane's reaction to the clean apartment.
If the sole purpose of my cleaning the apartment was to please Liane then I would claim that I am doing a purely good act (implying that I don't derive any pleasure at all from the deed) but I enjoy the cleaning, I enjoy the cleanliness too(!), and I'll enjoy Liane's reaction. I can't claim this is a selfless act, a purely good act.
If we judge the act from a deontological perspective we could claim that the act of cleaning was good in itself, without regard for my motives. But, from a teleological perspective my motives are arguably tainted by self-interest regardless of the act itself.
Considered universally, can we truly claim that any act is truly selfless - a purely good act? No matter how selfless an act, is it not tainted by some self-interest, some personal gain, albeit just the satisfaction for doing a good deed for someone else?
What then is a Purely Good Act?
I'm dropping name again - Morgan Riekert - the artist
I began my last entry by stating that I'm not one to drop name only to drop name, that of my writer friend T.A. Sedlak.
Today I'm dropping another name: Morgan Riekert, an up and coming artist based in Durban, South Africa. I remember a few years back, I witnessed his humble roots, his first sale: Gaia which is now hanging proudly on a wall of its happy owner in Washington DC (as seen below).
Below are some of my favorite pieces which also demonstrate his depth and the variety of his work. His work is selling faster than he can paint at the moment, and each time I visit his website I more and more impressed by what I see. Please visit his website - The Spiral - and check out the amazing work of this prolific artist.
As said, Morgan is based in Durban but can ship artwork overseas. His contact details can be found on his website as well news about new work and gallery exhibitions. And if you have something special you'd like painted he also does commission work, so please contact him to discuss it.
Today I'm dropping another name: Morgan Riekert, an up and coming artist based in Durban, South Africa. I remember a few years back, I witnessed his humble roots, his first sale: Gaia which is now hanging proudly on a wall of its happy owner in Washington DC (as seen below).
Below are some of my favorite pieces which also demonstrate his depth and the variety of his work. His work is selling faster than he can paint at the moment, and each time I visit his website I more and more impressed by what I see. Please visit his website - The Spiral - and check out the amazing work of this prolific artist.
As said, Morgan is based in Durban but can ship artwork overseas. His contact details can be found on his website as well news about new work and gallery exhibitions. And if you have something special you'd like painted he also does commission work, so please contact him to discuss it.
T.A. Sedlak - A soon to be literary success...
I'm not one to drop name (not that I get many opportunities) but I am one to take any opportunity to spread the word when good friends are finding great successes.
My friend Troy is on the cusp of literary success. His first novel, Anarcho Grow, is due for release in the Fall. Please take a moment to check out his website where you can read his bio, follow some of the marketing events leading up to the release date and even read the first chapter of the novel.
Troy was living here in Korea last year while he worked away on this book. I've witnessed the blood, sweat and tears he has poured into this work and the realisation of his dream.
Please visit his website, read the first chapter if you get a chance and of course...buy the book when it's out.
My friend Troy is on the cusp of literary success. His first novel, Anarcho Grow, is due for release in the Fall. Please take a moment to check out his website where you can read his bio, follow some of the marketing events leading up to the release date and even read the first chapter of the novel.
Troy was living here in Korea last year while he worked away on this book. I've witnessed the blood, sweat and tears he has poured into this work and the realisation of his dream.
Please visit his website, read the first chapter if you get a chance and of course...buy the book when it's out.
Budae jjigae - a response to so many...
This entry is, for me personally, truly befitting the title of my blog - The Same but Different.
Budae jjigae (army base stew) is a famous Korean dish. But unlike Kimchi which is gaining immense popularity worldwide for its taste and health benefits, budae jjigae is famous for its strange origin and, quite honestly, sad story.
This dish came about soon after the Korean War when meat was a scarcity. The Korean people were largely dependent on surplus foods supplied by the US Army which primarily consisted of hot dogs and tinned spam (do you get untinned 'fresh' spam?). These meats were combined with red bean paste to create an almost traditional Korean soup. Due to the scarcity of all foods during these dire times any other ingredients available were added to 'beef up' the soup, including ramen noodles, beans, ground beef, peppers, onions, tofu, kimchi, garlic, and I'm sure, any other vegetables available. The sadder, almost perverse, version of this story that I have heard is that the impoverished Korean people were often forced to scavenge the bins of the US army bases for food, much of which went into this 'lucky packet' dish.
This is the sad story of Budae jjigae. But today, this remains a popular dish and many foreigners - encountering the dish for the first time and learning its humble beginnings - beg the question, 'If the Korean people are not impoverished anymore why do they continue to eat this dish?' It's a fair question and, after enjoying this very dish the other day in the school cafeteria, I answered the question, though my answer is arguably more personal than general in application.
I did not come from the wealthiest of households and often the fridge was on the bare side. What amazed me on many of these occasions was how my mother was able to pull out the two remains vegetables, an egg or two, a bit of rice from the cupboard and a few herbs and spices, and put together a nutritious and delicious meal that left me with a full belly and a content smile! And while I sat contemplating this the other day after lunch of budae jjigae (with a full belly and a content smile) I realised that I was missing my mom's cooking, and not her amazing curries but her budae jjigae!
My answer to the question, that in my experience has left many foreigners inconclusive, why do the Korean people continue to eat this meal? Today budae jiggae has little to do with its sad story and more to do with the fact that it's a tasty meal enjoyed by all.
Personally, the story and love for this meal in Korea is both the same and different as my love for my mom's cooking - a humble beginning but timeless taste!
Budae jjigae (army base stew) is a famous Korean dish. But unlike Kimchi which is gaining immense popularity worldwide for its taste and health benefits, budae jjigae is famous for its strange origin and, quite honestly, sad story.
This dish came about soon after the Korean War when meat was a scarcity. The Korean people were largely dependent on surplus foods supplied by the US Army which primarily consisted of hot dogs and tinned spam (do you get untinned 'fresh' spam?). These meats were combined with red bean paste to create an almost traditional Korean soup. Due to the scarcity of all foods during these dire times any other ingredients available were added to 'beef up' the soup, including ramen noodles, beans, ground beef, peppers, onions, tofu, kimchi, garlic, and I'm sure, any other vegetables available. The sadder, almost perverse, version of this story that I have heard is that the impoverished Korean people were often forced to scavenge the bins of the US army bases for food, much of which went into this 'lucky packet' dish.
This is the sad story of Budae jjigae. But today, this remains a popular dish and many foreigners - encountering the dish for the first time and learning its humble beginnings - beg the question, 'If the Korean people are not impoverished anymore why do they continue to eat this dish?' It's a fair question and, after enjoying this very dish the other day in the school cafeteria, I answered the question, though my answer is arguably more personal than general in application.
I did not come from the wealthiest of households and often the fridge was on the bare side. What amazed me on many of these occasions was how my mother was able to pull out the two remains vegetables, an egg or two, a bit of rice from the cupboard and a few herbs and spices, and put together a nutritious and delicious meal that left me with a full belly and a content smile! And while I sat contemplating this the other day after lunch of budae jjigae (with a full belly and a content smile) I realised that I was missing my mom's cooking, and not her amazing curries but her budae jjigae!
My answer to the question, that in my experience has left many foreigners inconclusive, why do the Korean people continue to eat this meal? Today budae jiggae has little to do with its sad story and more to do with the fact that it's a tasty meal enjoyed by all.
Personally, the story and love for this meal in Korea is both the same and different as my love for my mom's cooking - a humble beginning but timeless taste!
Anyong-hi kyeseyo Pyeongtaek
Pyeongtaek City, South Korea
I began this blog entry a few days ago while I was still in Pyeongtaek, I have now made my move to Gwangmyeong. The blog started 'Two more sleeps in Pyeongtaek', I didn't finish it that night and the following day changed it to 'One more sleep' and now I'm still in the process of completing it, no more changes though...
One more sleep in Pyeongtaek. I have just completed my first year in South Korea and first year as an English teacher at Pyeongtaek Girls High School. This has been one of the most exciting, rewarding and intense years of my life. As a vagabond I don't have a home, home is where I rest my head at the end of each day so Pyeongtaek has been my home for this very interesting year. In two days I will move to GwangMyeong. Its just a hop and a skip of a move but thankfully I'll practically be in Seoul now so my life outside of school should become a little more interesting.
But this post is about Pyeongtaek! Pyeongtaek is a relatively small city. It is jam-packed with restaurants and bars but has little else to offer. So yes, I have done my fair share of eating and beering over the past year.
The best part of my time here has been at school. This week has been sad, having to say goodbye to all my students, some of which I've grown very fond of. Building up to my last week it was a mix of emotions and I wasn't sure how i would feel saying my goodbyes. I'm glad to say it was sad, it reflects how much I enjoy my work. Below are some photos and videos I've taken over the year and during the last week.
The view from the outside of the school and the hockey pitch
Last Thursday night was my farewell dinner, we went to a Korean BBQ place just across the road from the school as a few of the teachers had to go back to work after the dinner. I wasn't complaining - I love Korean BBQ...I'm South African! Little BBQs (braais) are the center piece of each table and the meat is brought in raw. I like being able to cook to meat myself, its then chopped up and everyone tucks in. The little sections of meat are then wrapped up in a lettuce leaf with some red pepper sauce and a piece of raw garlic - superb! Of course the tables are very low, you remove your shoes at the entrance of the restaurant and you sit on little mats of the floor. Koreans, having lived like this their wholes lives, are quiet content to sit for an hour or two with their legs crossed, us Westerners suffer though. It can be painful after a while. I'm getting better.
The the uppermost photo is (from left to right) Soo-Hyeong, Lucy, Koo, James, me, Mie-Hye, Jiwon and Jenny (many Koreans assume English names!)
On Friday I almost missed my final class because I had to say goodbye to the principle. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've actually seen the guy but respect must be shown so James and I went and had tea with him in his office. James was there to translate, the principle was friendly enough and I had time enough to say my goodbyes to one of my favorite classes. It was one of Koo's classes and they're quite chatty with me. And Koo is quite a joker...
These are just some random photos and video to give you an idea of what it's like in class.
Below are some more random photos and videos taken during a Korean traditional music event in which our school and others in the area all played some tunes for our students! In truth I'm not the biggest fan of Korean traditional music. Most of it has a strange beat that I can't follow, the instruments are interesting though and I like that there are a lot of drums.
The annual sports day was a highlight and I laughed my head off throughout the event. I'm used to 'serious' and highly competitive sports days consisting of athletics in the winter and swimming in the winter. At Pyeongtaek High School its dancing! It answered a big question for me: Why, for weeks on end, we're girls dancing their free time away...why? This was serious!
After some sad goodbyes on Friday I was keen to liven my spirits. I met with my Canadian friend Joel (one of the last in the area) for some street food. Much of which I mention in this post is not particular to Pyeongtaek, as is the 'street food'. All over the country, in every city and even the smaller villages I have passed through, there are little tents dotted here and there and movable food carts (pojang macha), which all sell quite similar food and snacks, sometimes soju and beer. These tents are usually (wo)manned by an ajuma (an old married woman), a very friendly very old and very happy woman bustling with energy and warmth. This particular tent did not sell soju so Joel (a big soju fan) bought a bottle to bring along. To accompany our soju we ate gimbap (like sushi but wrapped in seaweed), ramen noodles and bokdo (a spicy rice noodle dish) - very yummy and very cheap!
Hidden down a back allay. this is the ajuma's makeshift restaurant Joel and I visited Friday night. Much of the roof was tin and cardboard but the food was great!
A few of the street carts dotted through town and the Korean version of biltong (beef jerky) - all from the sea!
The soju was quick and we headed downtown so I could take some photos of Pyeongtaek, I don't see me rushing back here but want to capture my first port of call in Korea! I got a few shots of the sights and sounds, the neon and the shadows and we found ourselves in the Pink Light District. These 'Pink Light Districts' are the same as the Red Light Districts we have in the West. Our mission was to sneak some photos but a bottle of soju, two tequilas and a White Russian later I was a wobbly, forgetful and stupid. I only got the one the photo before we chased out of the area by a pimp!
The story of these Pink Light Districts is very interesting and of course very sad. Like any prostitution in the world it is usually maintained through addiction. Here the addiction is plastic surgery and shopping and the girls get sucked in through credit card dept. The Pyeongtaek Pink Light District is one of the largest in the country and is the only one which has it's own union! If you wish to learn more click here...
The splash of neon of the main road through downtown Pyeongteak, summer shopping downtown and me outside the first bar or 'hof' I visited.
As said before, much of what I found fascinating or just different here in Pyeongtaek can be found all over the country. Two things I appreciated was the old folk who are constantly recycling and the small trucks that drive around advertising. The rear of these trucks are lit up with advertising and they'll have load Hangul (Korean) blasting as the slowly pass by.
We're all aware of the level at which Asian youngsters are addicted to computer games. You may recall the story that hit the news about four years ago of the Chinese kid who died after playing online games for three days straight. It is a serious problem here, online gaming is a intricate part of the culture and PC Rooms (Pishi Bang) can be everywhere. Form my apartment there was at least twenty a five minute walk away. These are open 24 hours a day and are usually quite full of kids and adults alike.
This is Harmony Villa where I lived, the snow which I woke up to a few months ago and my Elvis Cuts, my hairdresser around the corner.
Not too long ago Joel and I tried to embrace all of Pyeongtaek and we walked down to a reservoir in search of something to do. We did what any man would do after being stuck in a city for a few months...made a fire!
After all said and done I will conclude that I was very happy in Pyeongtaek. That happiness was mostly found in school. Pyeongtaek Girls High is a great school with great students and co-teachers. Pyeongtaek may not have been the most exciting place to be but it served me well and will look back fondly on my time there. I met some great people and made a few friends. I hope that Gwangmyeong brings me as much joy. Tomorrow is my first day of school. I'm settled in my new apartment - photos and stuff to follow. Wish me luck in my new venture! Here are a few pics of my new home.
The ongoing cycle of life in Zimbabwe
Sadly, I can't claim a strong connection to the land in which I was born - Rhodesia / Zimbabwe. The connection I have to this country is only through my family, through their stories and unwavering nostalgia for a country that once boasted the highest standard of living. But my interest in the country has slowly grown, I'm not sure if it's because I want to know more about my birthplace...actually it's not that. The place where I was born is long gone. I'm not nostalgic, how could I be? I'm not nostalgic for a place and time I couldn't possibly remember. My family's stories are of a country long gone. I can't claim to be happy for the people of Zimbabwe, the great liberation of Zimbabwe has turned to starvation, hyper inflation (I read recently it was estimated at 6 sextillion percent - I don't even know what that is!), disease, mass unemployment, violence and a load of other horrible things. It's a terribly sad story, but one that I have fixated on.
I recently read When A Crocodile Eats The Sun by Peter Godwin in which Godwin, a celebrated ex-Rhodesian writer, documents the trails and tribulations of the Zimbabwean people approximately 5 years ago. The story culminates in his own father's death in Zimbabwe. In short, the story follows Godwin's many trips to Zimbabwe - he is now living abroad - to visit his parents. Their situation worsens on each visit and finally his father passes away.
Tonight I got an email from my mother in which she shares a story from my aunt who recently went on holiday to Zimbabwe with her late husband who also passed away in Zimbabwe. This is her email:
________________________________________________________________
Hi Jace
I thought you would be interested in what happened to Gill when her hubbie died. Gill had a horrifying experience - here goes - (if this was a movie, it would either be a comedy or a horror). Gill and Gordon had a good trip through Zim although she did tell me by sms that the border at Messina was terrible, with loads of sick and starving people. I had no further contact with her until I received a call from Michele (her daughter) who lives in Port Shepstone that the old man had died of heart failure on the Wednesday night. Gill went to the local police station to complete forms and to make arrangements with a Mortuary to collect him. There was a power failure at the police station and Gill had to use her cell phone for light to complete the documents. Eventually the "mortuary people" turned up and Gordon's body was removed. The next day, after Gill had contacted his sons in the UK, she went to the Parlour to discuss having him embalmed (as per the family's request in the UK) so he could be flown to the UK to be buried there with his family. The parlour had no trace of him and then Gill spent the next two days trying to locate his body!!!! There are only two mortuaries in Harare - Doves and one other and they had no knowledge of him. After going to Home Affairs, it was discovered that it was a bogus mortuary setup trying to extort money. Anyway, finally Gordon's body was located and Gill then tried to get him cremated as the embalming ran into thousands of pounds (even if it could be done). The only crematorium (I gather the one at Warren Hills, if its still there) was unable to help as they had no gas!!! Nice one!!!! It was then suggested that Gill had him cling-wrapped and drive back to SA with him like that!!!! Gill finally found a Hindu priest who said he would cremate Gordon (at a price), so Gill went off to some God-forsaken place in the bush with Gordon's body. The little Hindu man was waiting for her, pyre all ready, but he had NO MATCHES to light it!!! (It can't get any worse!!!!!) They finally found a little boy who had an old rickety bicycle and he went off in search of matches. He returned later with two matches that cost masses of Zim dollars which Gill forked out. The first match did not work..........luckily the second one did and a fire was made to cremate the poor man. Gill collected his ashes the next day (I wonder if they were his) and decided that her stay in Zim was definitely over. She came to visit me on Monday after she gave his son the urn to take back to England for burial. I'm sure this sort of thing only happens to Gill!!!
Weather at the moment is gorgeous - we have had quite a bit of rain to cool things down and the garden is flourishing - so much colour and beautiful scents.
I posted your tea this morning so hopefully it should arrive soon.
Hope to speak soon and you have caught up on some sleep.
Miss and love you
Mom xxxx
________________________________________________________________
Wow - My mom ends her account with 'I'm sure this sort of thing only happens to Gill', My aunt Gill is an eccentric woman of many amazing tales. But this one is not unique. This is almost an echo of Godwin's very sad story. First the crematorium has no gas, then the mortuary calls him to say that they're running out of fuel and can't keep the body cold much longer and he must collect it soon. Finally a friend tells him how some 'whites' have been taking their deceased to a Hindu temple with a pyre. But back then the government had banned non-Hindu's from being burned at the Hindu temple but the priest agreed to have Godwin's father declared an honorary Hindu which they did! Like my aunt Gill, Godwin finally succeeded.
After I read my mom's email I was excited to share the above with her and found myself re-reading Godwin's story. Both stories, on a personal level, are ultimately very sad. But as I page through When A Crocodile Eats The Sun I am saddened also by how little has changed over the last 5 years. I read recently of Mugabe's 85th birthday, in the book Godwin talks of Mugabe's 80th birthday. My mom doesn't mention the cost of the cremation, Godwin, back then, paid Z$200,000.
Me with my Z$100 000 000 000 note which is now worth more on ebay than in Zimbabwe!
I recommend When A Crocodile Eats The Sun to anyone interested in Zimbabwe. It is beautifully written, extremely honest and very insightful. I can't claim a connection but suddenly what was a story, albeit true, is now most definitely a reality to me. These horrific things do happen.
I recently read When A Crocodile Eats The Sun by Peter Godwin in which Godwin, a celebrated ex-Rhodesian writer, documents the trails and tribulations of the Zimbabwean people approximately 5 years ago. The story culminates in his own father's death in Zimbabwe. In short, the story follows Godwin's many trips to Zimbabwe - he is now living abroad - to visit his parents. Their situation worsens on each visit and finally his father passes away.
Tonight I got an email from my mother in which she shares a story from my aunt who recently went on holiday to Zimbabwe with her late husband who also passed away in Zimbabwe. This is her email:
________________________________________________________________
Hi Jace
I thought you would be interested in what happened to Gill when her hubbie died. Gill had a horrifying experience - here goes - (if this was a movie, it would either be a comedy or a horror). Gill and Gordon had a good trip through Zim although she did tell me by sms that the border at Messina was terrible, with loads of sick and starving people. I had no further contact with her until I received a call from Michele (her daughter) who lives in Port Shepstone that the old man had died of heart failure on the Wednesday night. Gill went to the local police station to complete forms and to make arrangements with a Mortuary to collect him. There was a power failure at the police station and Gill had to use her cell phone for light to complete the documents. Eventually the "mortuary people" turned up and Gordon's body was removed. The next day, after Gill had contacted his sons in the UK, she went to the Parlour to discuss having him embalmed (as per the family's request in the UK) so he could be flown to the UK to be buried there with his family. The parlour had no trace of him and then Gill spent the next two days trying to locate his body!!!! There are only two mortuaries in Harare - Doves and one other and they had no knowledge of him. After going to Home Affairs, it was discovered that it was a bogus mortuary setup trying to extort money. Anyway, finally Gordon's body was located and Gill then tried to get him cremated as the embalming ran into thousands of pounds (even if it could be done). The only crematorium (I gather the one at Warren Hills, if its still there) was unable to help as they had no gas!!! Nice one!!!! It was then suggested that Gill had him cling-wrapped and drive back to SA with him like that!!!! Gill finally found a Hindu priest who said he would cremate Gordon (at a price), so Gill went off to some God-forsaken place in the bush with Gordon's body. The little Hindu man was waiting for her, pyre all ready, but he had NO MATCHES to light it!!! (It can't get any worse!!!!!) They finally found a little boy who had an old rickety bicycle and he went off in search of matches. He returned later with two matches that cost masses of Zim dollars which Gill forked out. The first match did not work..........luckily the second one did and a fire was made to cremate the poor man. Gill collected his ashes the next day (I wonder if they were his) and decided that her stay in Zim was definitely over. She came to visit me on Monday after she gave his son the urn to take back to England for burial. I'm sure this sort of thing only happens to Gill!!!
Weather at the moment is gorgeous - we have had quite a bit of rain to cool things down and the garden is flourishing - so much colour and beautiful scents.
I posted your tea this morning so hopefully it should arrive soon.
Hope to speak soon and you have caught up on some sleep.
Miss and love you
Mom xxxx
________________________________________________________________
Wow - My mom ends her account with 'I'm sure this sort of thing only happens to Gill', My aunt Gill is an eccentric woman of many amazing tales. But this one is not unique. This is almost an echo of Godwin's very sad story. First the crematorium has no gas, then the mortuary calls him to say that they're running out of fuel and can't keep the body cold much longer and he must collect it soon. Finally a friend tells him how some 'whites' have been taking their deceased to a Hindu temple with a pyre. But back then the government had banned non-Hindu's from being burned at the Hindu temple but the priest agreed to have Godwin's father declared an honorary Hindu which they did! Like my aunt Gill, Godwin finally succeeded.
After I read my mom's email I was excited to share the above with her and found myself re-reading Godwin's story. Both stories, on a personal level, are ultimately very sad. But as I page through When A Crocodile Eats The Sun I am saddened also by how little has changed over the last 5 years. I read recently of Mugabe's 85th birthday, in the book Godwin talks of Mugabe's 80th birthday. My mom doesn't mention the cost of the cremation, Godwin, back then, paid Z$200,000.
Me with my Z$100 000 000 000 note which is now worth more on ebay than in Zimbabwe!
I recommend When A Crocodile Eats The Sun to anyone interested in Zimbabwe. It is beautifully written, extremely honest and very insightful. I can't claim a connection but suddenly what was a story, albeit true, is now most definitely a reality to me. These horrific things do happen.
Words - Faith and Doubt, Hope & Choice
Like Winnie the Pooh Ive been banging my head as I ponder the implications and relationships of certain words. Some words have continued to fascinate me. I think it's strange how language controls our thoughts, we understand something only once we understand it's word. One word that I find quite fascinating is Faith.
Faith
Faith, as I choose to understand it, is the belief that something is true, and importantly, this something can never be proven as true. This is why religion, of all things, steals most of the scope of this word. Some might ask, 'Do you have a faith?' by which they mean, 'Do you practice a religion?' In fact, faith, in my opinion, is a fundamental aspect of any religion and one's devotion to a given religion and God is a measure of their faith, a point I shall return to. Religion, of all things, is one that can never be proven and therefore necessitates faith. But we've all heard people say, 'Do you have faith in science?' Surely science is the opposite of religion, the other extreme, everything that we have proven and upon which we base our reality? But still, some question science. This I think is acceptable.
First off, much of what science proves religion refutes and much of religion asserts, science disproves. Ipso facto a religious person surely has little faith in science and a man of science is sure to question much of what religion accepts as true without proof. But, we should also be thankful that even scientists question science, the result is surely progress. For example, Aristotle described the earth with four elements: earth, fire, wind and water, and the earth was the centre of the universe. This was, in essence, taken to be true.
Of course our periodic table and understanding of the universe developed from there, eventually Aristotelian physics - man's accepted science - was under scrutiny and pressure, and along came Newton. Newton introduced concepts which no longer fitted Aristotelian physics but offered us a better way of understanding and arranging our reality and interacting with it. So the decision was made to accept the anomaly and adjust all that we know to a new system - Newtonian physics. So two questions remain: Is science the search for all the rules that fit neatly into our current system of physics? or Is science in search for that one 'amazing' anomaly, an idea so grand that we will be willing to alter our whole understanding of the universe to embrace it? If we answer the latter with the affirmative, it appears acceptable to question science (including that which has been 'proven'). In short, it is acceptable to play with the idea of faith in science. The point is, as with religion, even in science there is always doubt.
Doubt
In discussing religion I mentioned the idea of a measure of faith. If we take faith as a percentage, for the sake of the argument, 100% faith in religion, or science for that matter, implies what? In my opinion, it implies that there is 0% doubt. Thus, 90% faith implies 10% doubt - you get the picture, where there isn't faith, there is doubt. And sadly, I believe this to be true of all things, doubt is the evil that religious folk are fighting and doubt is possibly the fuel for scientific progress! Thus, the measure (or test) of one's faith is also a measure (or test) of one's doubt.
We also have faith in each other. In the broader sense, we have some have faith in humanity but on a more personal level, we have faith in those we love and care for, faith enough that they love and care for us too - little Johnny waits patiently in the rain for his mother to collect him after school because he has faith in her. Human relationships, I would argue, are dependent on faith. We've cleverly overcome the problem of building relationships where there is no faith - with law - we have legally binding contracts that the invested parties must remain faithful to. But, legality aside, the remainder of the relationships we choose to be in, to varying degrees, are based on faith. Faith, in this sense, implies love, respect and above all trust. And, of course, the opposite of faith is doubt, to have little faith in someone is to seriously doubt them. Likewise, our faith in each other is something that is also - sadly - being constantly tested. When little Johnny eventually realises that his mother is not coming to collect him from school he looses faith in her, and doubt's her promise that she will be there to collect him the following day. So again we come to the relationship of faith and doubt, a relationship, that surely, we all understand and negotiate differently.
For me, I'm a absolutist on this point. Influenced by Descartes in his pursuit of the truth, he threw everything - he once held in good faith to be true - into doubt. He was an absolutist in his pursuit of the truth because the thought experiment (the pursuit of 'absolute' truth) necessitated it. To arrive at an absolute truth he had to negate anything that had even an incling of doubt, the smallest measure of doubt was enough to completely doubt something. Should little Johnny wait for his mother to collect him the following day?
Hope
But if there is always doubt, how, or why, do we maintain relationships? Hope! What do we hope for? Little Johnny hopes his mother will collect him. But does hope imply doubt? If you have 0% doubt in something do you need hope? Do you hope the sun will rise tomorrow? Then again, I'm not sure if anyone can claim to be an absolutist with regards to faith, to have a pure faith in something, I believe that there is always some doubt. But our hope is fed by our doubt, we are hopeful only because we are doubtful, and finally, without doubt there is no need for hope. To loose our hope is to accept as true what we (feared and) doubted. To loose our hope is therefore to loose our faith. But, if that is true, is hope a positive emotion? Personally, this question is most troubling in relation to faith in others. Faith in religion, or even science, is by and large faith in what cannot be proven as true i.e. there is always some doubt. Religious truths may prove to be true in the afterdeath...or afterlife, but religion is a blind faith (and therefore quite beautiful). Scientific truths await the looming anomaly! But faith in others in something that effects us all, everyday and on a very personal and emotional level. Human relationships are at the core of our existence, we necessitate them for our personal growth and emotional well being.
Choice
I will admit, at this point, that my perspective must sound rather glum. I don't have faith in faith, I doubt the value of hope and how I can possibly have faith if, as an absolutist, I'm choosing to embrace doubt? That's the point - choice! Why do we enter relationships with others, why do we, in the face of doubt, remain hopeful? Choice. The irony of this conclusion, from a Christian perspective, is that God endowed us with choice. Religion is a choice, even scientific beliefs are a choice. The relationships we enter, we enter by choice.
We choose what and who we have faith in, be it religion, science and other people. Our faith is constantly tested in the face of doubt. And while we make these choices we're also choosing to be hopeful. My objective here is not to share my personal views but only to share - what I believe to be - the complicated relationship of these words. Most importantly I hope for everyone to understand the complexity of their faith and implications of their choices.
Faith
Faith, as I choose to understand it, is the belief that something is true, and importantly, this something can never be proven as true. This is why religion, of all things, steals most of the scope of this word. Some might ask, 'Do you have a faith?' by which they mean, 'Do you practice a religion?' In fact, faith, in my opinion, is a fundamental aspect of any religion and one's devotion to a given religion and God is a measure of their faith, a point I shall return to. Religion, of all things, is one that can never be proven and therefore necessitates faith. But we've all heard people say, 'Do you have faith in science?' Surely science is the opposite of religion, the other extreme, everything that we have proven and upon which we base our reality? But still, some question science. This I think is acceptable.
First off, much of what science proves religion refutes and much of religion asserts, science disproves. Ipso facto a religious person surely has little faith in science and a man of science is sure to question much of what religion accepts as true without proof. But, we should also be thankful that even scientists question science, the result is surely progress. For example, Aristotle described the earth with four elements: earth, fire, wind and water, and the earth was the centre of the universe. This was, in essence, taken to be true.
Of course our periodic table and understanding of the universe developed from there, eventually Aristotelian physics - man's accepted science - was under scrutiny and pressure, and along came Newton. Newton introduced concepts which no longer fitted Aristotelian physics but offered us a better way of understanding and arranging our reality and interacting with it. So the decision was made to accept the anomaly and adjust all that we know to a new system - Newtonian physics. So two questions remain: Is science the search for all the rules that fit neatly into our current system of physics? or Is science in search for that one 'amazing' anomaly, an idea so grand that we will be willing to alter our whole understanding of the universe to embrace it? If we answer the latter with the affirmative, it appears acceptable to question science (including that which has been 'proven'). In short, it is acceptable to play with the idea of faith in science. The point is, as with religion, even in science there is always doubt.
Doubt
In discussing religion I mentioned the idea of a measure of faith. If we take faith as a percentage, for the sake of the argument, 100% faith in religion, or science for that matter, implies what? In my opinion, it implies that there is 0% doubt. Thus, 90% faith implies 10% doubt - you get the picture, where there isn't faith, there is doubt. And sadly, I believe this to be true of all things, doubt is the evil that religious folk are fighting and doubt is possibly the fuel for scientific progress! Thus, the measure (or test) of one's faith is also a measure (or test) of one's doubt.
We also have faith in each other. In the broader sense, we have some have faith in humanity but on a more personal level, we have faith in those we love and care for, faith enough that they love and care for us too - little Johnny waits patiently in the rain for his mother to collect him after school because he has faith in her. Human relationships, I would argue, are dependent on faith. We've cleverly overcome the problem of building relationships where there is no faith - with law - we have legally binding contracts that the invested parties must remain faithful to. But, legality aside, the remainder of the relationships we choose to be in, to varying degrees, are based on faith. Faith, in this sense, implies love, respect and above all trust. And, of course, the opposite of faith is doubt, to have little faith in someone is to seriously doubt them. Likewise, our faith in each other is something that is also - sadly - being constantly tested. When little Johnny eventually realises that his mother is not coming to collect him from school he looses faith in her, and doubt's her promise that she will be there to collect him the following day. So again we come to the relationship of faith and doubt, a relationship, that surely, we all understand and negotiate differently.
For me, I'm a absolutist on this point. Influenced by Descartes in his pursuit of the truth, he threw everything - he once held in good faith to be true - into doubt. He was an absolutist in his pursuit of the truth because the thought experiment (the pursuit of 'absolute' truth) necessitated it. To arrive at an absolute truth he had to negate anything that had even an incling of doubt, the smallest measure of doubt was enough to completely doubt something. Should little Johnny wait for his mother to collect him the following day?
Hope
But if there is always doubt, how, or why, do we maintain relationships? Hope! What do we hope for? Little Johnny hopes his mother will collect him. But does hope imply doubt? If you have 0% doubt in something do you need hope? Do you hope the sun will rise tomorrow? Then again, I'm not sure if anyone can claim to be an absolutist with regards to faith, to have a pure faith in something, I believe that there is always some doubt. But our hope is fed by our doubt, we are hopeful only because we are doubtful, and finally, without doubt there is no need for hope. To loose our hope is to accept as true what we (feared and) doubted. To loose our hope is therefore to loose our faith. But, if that is true, is hope a positive emotion? Personally, this question is most troubling in relation to faith in others. Faith in religion, or even science, is by and large faith in what cannot be proven as true i.e. there is always some doubt. Religious truths may prove to be true in the afterdeath...or afterlife, but religion is a blind faith (and therefore quite beautiful). Scientific truths await the looming anomaly! But faith in others in something that effects us all, everyday and on a very personal and emotional level. Human relationships are at the core of our existence, we necessitate them for our personal growth and emotional well being.
Choice
I will admit, at this point, that my perspective must sound rather glum. I don't have faith in faith, I doubt the value of hope and how I can possibly have faith if, as an absolutist, I'm choosing to embrace doubt? That's the point - choice! Why do we enter relationships with others, why do we, in the face of doubt, remain hopeful? Choice. The irony of this conclusion, from a Christian perspective, is that God endowed us with choice. Religion is a choice, even scientific beliefs are a choice. The relationships we enter, we enter by choice.
We choose what and who we have faith in, be it religion, science and other people. Our faith is constantly tested in the face of doubt. And while we make these choices we're also choosing to be hopeful. My objective here is not to share my personal views but only to share - what I believe to be - the complicated relationship of these words. Most importantly I hope for everyone to understand the complexity of their faith and implications of their choices.
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