start cybersenior.4.1 ==================================================== ************ * THE * CYBERSENIOR * REVIEW ************ =================================================== VOLUME 4 NUMBER 1 JANUARY 1997 =================================================== The CyberSenior Review is a project of the Internet Elders List, an active world-wide Internet Mailing List for seniors. The Review is written, edited and published by members of the Elders for interested seniors worldwide. Contributions from non-Elders are welcome. Please query one of the editors first. Contents copyrighted 1997 by the Internet Elders List and by the authors. All rights reserved by the authors. Quoting is permitted with attribution. The editorial board of The CyberSenior Review: Elaine Dabbs esudweek@mail.usyd.edu.au Pat Davidson patd@chatback.demon.co.uk James Hursey jwhursey@cd.columbus.oh.us ====================================================== CONTENTS, Volume 4, Number 1, January 1997 EDITORIAL by Pat Davidson MUSICA EN LOS BARRIOS (PART II) by Dorothy G. Barnhouse Dorothy concludes her heart-warming story of music and conversion in the poor barrios of Nicaragua. THE GOOD SHIP MARY ROSE by Lotte Evans A little tray on Lotte's kitchen bench leads to the history of this gallant old ship-of-the-line. "RESOLATIN'" THE NEW YEAR by Langston Kerr Lang, in his inimitable Texas way, ponders New Year's and whether endin' the bad, or startin' the good is the best way to look at a new year. IF I WERE FROM A DIFFERENT PAST, a poem by Eloise Blanpied Eloise's elegant sonnet ponders life. ============================================================== EDITORIAL by Pat Davidson The Romans had it right when they named January after their god Janus, the god that looked both forwards and backwards. The New Year gives us the opportunity to do just that, looking over the events of the past year yet looking forward to the future. We in the northern hemisphere have much to look forward to, when the the spring flowers are about to bring colour to the gardens that have lain dormant, but we must also remember that our southern friends are about to experience their autumn and winter. One of the treats in store for us in this New Year is this new issue of the Review, which, though running a little late, is, we think, worth the wait, as it has interesting articles (and a poem) from different corners of the world: Nicaragua, where Dorothy completes her account of her music making with the children of the barrios of Managua; Australia, where Lotte remembers life in the days of King Henry VIII as she visits the "Mary Rose" exhibition in Portsmouth, England; and Texas, where Langston and his wife Marie have different ways of dealing with the year to come. To finish, we have a thought-provoking poem from Eloise, who comes from the USA. Yes, we have started the New Year well, with much to look forward to. I hope you enjoy the read as much as I've done. =============================================================== MUSICA EN LOS BARRIOS (PART II) by Dorothy G. Barnhouse (Dorothy continues her story, started in the last issue, of how she has helped to bring music to the poor barrios of Nicaragua.) II. WHAT ARE WE DOING NOW? Twenty-five teen-teachers are teaching about 200 children in 12 barrios. Three times we have gotten all the children together to give a concert in the large auditorium of UCA (Universidad Centroamericana). In addition to the recorder and basic music classes, the kids are learning songs, dances and rhythmical games. During 1994 and '95, I gradually phased out my involvement at the agricultural college. Somehow the kids changed my mind about what was "really important work." For many of them, the time they spend with Musica en los Barrios is about the only opportunity they have to develop individual skills, learn group cooperation, give flight to their imagination and practise a sense of discipline. Who are some of these children? Maria Jose was a tiny silent child. She never spoke, hid her face if asked a question. I even wondered if she were autistic. But when the choir sang, she looked up and sang too. Later she began smiling at the other children, and even playing with them a bit. Karla always wore a pleasant smile, but her expression never changed, her eyes seemed vacant and she would only nod and agree. She had a totally chaotic sense of rhythm and although she always nodded, she didn't seem to understand anything. I even wondered if she were perhaps brain damaged. But not trained to recognize or help children with such problems, I decided to do the only thing I knew to do, namely, to develop her sense of rhythm. Six months later she was able to conduct simple pieces in 3/4 and 4/4 and could play smooth passages of quarter notes and eighth notes on the keyboard. She never lost her pleasant smile, but her eyes were no longer vacant. She began asking questions and making little jokes. No question of brain damage. Maria Eugenia was about 14, and was one of the original eight kids in my first choir. When I brought the first recorder to show them, she shyly asked if she could borrow it during the week. Now she is one of the teen-teachers, and herself plays Bach Minuets, a Handel Bourree, a Purcell Chaconne. She has another year to go to get a B.A. in psychology at the Jesuit University. Her parents are illiterate. Maybe she will be one to help take over the program when it is time for me to leave. Eddy was a savage, dirty little boy who used to come to throw dirt and stones through the window during choir practise. The other children told me he was crazy and avoided him. Nothing I tried worked to keep him from bothering us. One day in desperation I grabbed him and hauled him into choir practise yelling, "Sit down there and shut up and stop bothering us!" A huge smile spread on his face and he began singing along. He knew all the music and words of all our songs from having hung around outside. In his own inimitable way, he had simply been asking for an invitation to join. I found out he had fallen on his head when a baby, and had never developed normally. He had an older brother in the choir who totally ignored him, and his mother did no more than feed him and then turn him out into the street for the day. He became a faithful and well-behaved member of the choir, but nobody wanted to sit next to him. After a little basic research, I discovered the problem and got one of the older boys to take him under his wing about bathing and finding clean clothes before choir practise. Problem solved. He improved enough that he was accepted into a special school for retarded children. I rejoice that it has been given to me to work in this alien land where the electricity often fails, the water is off whenever the engineers downtown think there isn't enough to go around, the potholes are life-threatening and the temperature seldom goes below 30 degrees C. Six months of the year everything is covered with dust, and the other six with mud, unless there is another drought (increasingly frequent as the rain forest is cut down) in which case, more dust. This is an alien land where nothing happens on time, few commitments are kept, where in fact very few things work. A friend in the north asked me, "Well why do you stay there if it is so awful?" I could only answer, "Because I love my work." She thought for a minute and said, "I cant remember ever hearing anyone here in the north talk about their work with that tone of voice. You are very lucky." Right. Musica en los Barrios is only a few years old, but it would never have been born without the ten years of work by Padre Angel in Batahola. The character of this barrio is strongly influenced by the presence of this cultural center. In addition to music, which was Angel's first offering to the children, and which is the glue that continues to hold the center together, the center now offers classes in typing, English, computers, hairdressing, sewing, massage, cooking, herbal medicine, carpentry, radio repair... But when the youth choir/orchestra performs, few of the families come. Many of the teen-agers spend all their spare time at the center with its well-tended gardens, brightly painted murals and hum of activity. Home is often a dirt floor with a tin roof, one light bulb, a blaring TV and too often, an abusive or alcoholic adult. Now with their new role as recorder teachers, some of these teen- agers have gone from being passive recipients of charity from the rich north, to being active multipliers of what they have been given. The $2.25 per class they are paid by the project is important to them and to their families. Perhaps more important, they are learning to understand a contract, keep records, make and follow lesson plans, and to be answerable to the children and to the demands of the project. Most Nicaraguan young people don't have a chance to experience any of this. Little by little, the group of teachers is learning to assume responsiblility for giving tests, making monthly reports, plan concerts, and all the other details necessary to make the program run. In '94 and '95 we had an annual budget of $7,500, half of which went for hourly wages to the teen-teachers, the rest to transportation, materials, instruments, and salaries for me and Nelly. The money all comes from small donations of individuals in Europe and North America. III. WHAT IS OUR FUTURE? It is time for me to think of leaving Nicaragua. In the development lingo there is a much used phrase, - "sustainable development". A project has to be able to keep going on its own momentum when the foreigners or development workers leave. Just as I withdrew from the agricultural college, now I am withdrawing from the front lines of Musica en los Barrios, devoting my time almost exclusively to teacher training and curriculum development. In Nelly Morazan, we have a reliable and capable future director. The Batahola teen-teachers are assuming more and more responsibility. Two of them calculate the payroll each month. Another supervises the giving of tests to the children as they pass from one level to the next. Another is helping Nelly teach songs and rhythmic dances to elementary school teachers. Two of them are teaching guitar to children who have proven their determination to learn music. One is little by little taking over the administration of the project from me. Sometimes it seems to me those things are more important than the music. If they aren't done well, it is certain that the music will begin to suffer very rapidly. My vision is for the direction of the project to pass more and more into the hands of Nelly Morazan and the Batahola teen- teachers, and whomever else we may find to help them. But after I leave Nicaragua, some time in 97 probably, I will continue to raise money and to visit once a year to bring them any training or materials they may need. In some ways, our very success with the children is beginning to cause problems. For instance, what are we going to do with three neighbouring barrios each of which has a small handful of kids who have reached level three? That means they are ready to learn the alto recorder too and begin playing in small ensembles. But there aren't enough children in any one barrio do to ensembles. Because of the dangers of urban life (traffic, criminal gangs,) the children can not leave their own barrio to join together in a central place. If there were some way to get the kids from those three barrios together, we might begin to create a mini-cultural center. But we are well aware that this may be a "First world" type idea, which is not growing organically from the roots which have dug themselves in here. We are waiting. At first we opened classes in small community groups. But often the infrastructure to support the group was quite frail and faltered if one key person were absent or busy. For instance, many homes dont have clocks. How are the kids to know that it is time to get ready to go to the recorder lesson unless an adult reminds them? Or there are no phones, so nobody lets the teen- teachers know that the kids all have a school commitment this Saturday and cant have recorder class. The teen-teachers travel across town for nothing. For this reason the last two new groups we opened were in public schools. Maybe the firmer infrastructure will mean less wasted time and energy. We will see. We see no reason to doubt that Musica en los Barrios will in time bring some of these advantages to other children in other poor barrios. But it would be a mistake to judge the "success" of the program solely this way. If one child has had a happier half hour than s/he would have had at home, if one child has had an awakening of awareness of a skill, if one child has had a feeling of comradeship in making a beautiful sound with ten other children when none could have made it alone, if one child has followed his or her imaination down the path of the songs and dances from all over Latin America, Israel, Negro Spirituals and the rest of the great human spectrum of experience, the program is already a success, even if we cant promise the children a "successful" future. Dorothy Grace Barnhouse Musica en los Barrios Casa J-608, Col. Centroamerica Managua, Nicaragua tel/fax 505-278-4972 e-mail dorothy@ibw.com.ni =============================================================== THE GOOD SHIP MARY ROSE by Lotte Evans On one of my kitchen benches sits a little handy tray which I bought several years ago at a flea market for a dollar. On this tray is a picture based on the only contemporary illustration existing of the gallant ship the Mary Rose which was the pride and joy of Good King Hal, better known as Henry VIII, the much married King of England. The Mary Rose was a warship and as such fought gallantly in several battles but disaster struck when she sank during an engagement with a French invasion fleet a mile and a quarter from the entrance to Portsmouth Harbour in forty feet of water. For the men on board there was no recoiling or fleeing. Soldiers, gunners and archers were trapped at action stations, either between decks or beneath the heavy netting which covered the weather deck in the waist of the ship. King Henry and his entourage witnessed the battle on shore and eyewitnesses described the heartrending cries of the stricken ship's company. There have been many ship wrecks throughout history and most of these wrecks still lie wherever they sank but not so the Mary Rose. Amateur divers started to search for the ship on the sea bed and in 1965 it was found by using sonar. From the day of the discovery until 1982 six hundred volunteer divers and large number of scientists, archeologists and many more volunteers on shore were actively engaged in the preparation of the raising of the Mary Rose which occurred on the 11th October 1982. Now after this brief description of the history of this ship we will get back to my little tray. You see looking at it daily when I made my coffee I got this hankering to see what the Mary Rose looks like now. And that's exactly what I did on a wonderful visit in the company of Elders Listowner Pat Davidson to the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard which is home to three of the world's greatest historic ships, the Mary Rose, HMS Victory and HMS Warrior 1860. I must admit I gave the HMS Warrior the go bye, not because I would not have liked to see it but I headed straight for the Mary Rose Exhibition and never noticed the Warrior. Before we entered a guide handed each visitor a handheld device which contains an audio tape which provides a tremendous amount of information about every part of the ship. We entered a large hall and there behind glass lay what could be saved of the wreck. It is quite an awesome sight. The ship stands as high as a four storey building and weighs about 350 tons, which is half of the original 700 tons and it does look like a cross-cut at present. One can see the various decks and the size of the cabins and store rooms. The first impression is that the ship must have been quite large but when one considers that the listed crew consisted of 200 mariners, 185 soldiers and thirty gunners. And if that wasn't a big enough crowd, one eyewitness account claims that there were 700 men on board when she sank. The starboard side cannot be seen by visitors at the present time but there are plans to include a viewing gallery all around the wreck. But it isn't just the ship which makes this visit interesting. There are innumerable items which are on show. For example the complete barber surgeon's chest and all its tools, amongst them three metal syringes for urethral injections (makes you twinge doesn't it), cauteries for the amputation of limbs and assorted ointments can be seen. There are exhibits of the cobbler's work bench, how the ships crew passed their leisure hours, what they wore and what they ate. Although the ship carried seven heavy bronze guns and thirty-four heavy iron guns more than 3,500 arrows and 138 whole longbows were recovered from the ship and a large number are on show. Some 200 skeletons were found, nearly all of them of young men in their twenties with an average height of 5 foot 7 inches. I am mentioning this because quite a number of them had been archers with a marked skeletal shoulder development accentuated by their profession. I could just imagine those guys pulling a six foot six longbow; no wonder they had wide shoulders. There is also a video one can watch. It shows the raising of the Mary Rose. Prince Charles, who is the President of the Mary Rose Trust, was in the forefront watching this momentuous occasion. A reporter suggested the Prince to step on to the wreck when it came to a halt. The reporter felt it would be rather symbolic. The Prince declined. I thought that reporter must have been a knucklehead. I could just imagine what could have happened if the Prince would have stepped on the wet timber, slipped off, or even worse busted something and headed straight into the briney deep. It was a wonderful experience and I do hope that I will be able to visit Portsmouth again as there is so much to see. After all I ONLY saw the Mary Rose, missed the HMS Warrior and had just enough time to gape at Nelson's Flagship the Victory. Going back by train to London, one of the passengers told me that she was on a visit from the States and that she had a marvellous time at the Naval Museum where she managed to verify that one of her ancestors had been a midshipman on the Victory. I asked her what she had thought of the ships. She told me that she wasn't interested in them at all. All her interest was centred around genealogy. Ah well I thought, it takes all kinds. *** As a final note to my Mary Rose adventure, I did a quick web search and came up with the following results: "The search found 46 pages containing: Mary followed by Rose and Portsmouth" listed here are just a sample of these sites: http://www.resort-guide.co.uk/portsmouth/marhert.htm http://www.resort-guide.co.uk/portsmouth/attracts.htm http://www.rchme.gov.uk/hnew08.html Enjoy yourself!! =============================================================== "RESOLATIN'" THE NEW YEAR by Langston Kerr Well, we got us a new year a lookin' us in the face! It's one of them times, if you're like most people, that takes a look back'ards to see what '96 was like and you wonder what '97 is gonna be like. Hope it's a good'un. Have you made you any new year's resolations? If you're like the most of us, you've got a whole big bunch of 'em made and about half of 'em busted by now! They's this ole sayin' about new year's resolations bein' meant to be broke and I'm a thinkin' that most people that make'em really don't have no more idea of keepin' 'em than a duck does. That bein' the case, they ain't no use in piddlin' with 'em in the first place. That's the way I look at it. Them new year's resolations is important. You ort not have get uh idea in your head that it's jist somethin' you do one time a year and then you stick your list up somewheres and ferget all about it. Jist makin' up resolations can tell you all kinds of things you ort to know about yourself. But if you turn right around and ferget'em after you get through makin'em, that tells you a whole lot more. I like new year's resolations, myself. It's kinda like when you get to the end of the old year, you look back on it and see what you done right and what you done wrong. Then you make up your mind that in the year to come, in 1997, you're gonna do better than what you done in '96. It's like you take stock of where you've been and you try and figger out where you're goin' next year. The trouble is, most of my lookin' back is seein' what I done that I don't want to do no more. I see things I've done back there that I don't partic'lar like and I make me a resolation not to do 'em in the comin' year. Marie ain't like that, though. She don't look at things like I do. She'll take and go back over the old year and try and figger out what it was that she done right. Then she'll center up on that. She says the way she looks at it, they's plenty of folks around to tell you where you've gone wrong and messed up. So she don't have to fool with that. That's took care of. She says the onliest thing left is fer her to look at is the things she's done right. Marie says she's one of them that would a whole lot druther 'start' doin' somethin' than to quit doin' somethin'. She says the way she looks at it, you can quit this and quit that and quit somethin' else and, next thing you know, you ain't doin' nothin' atall. Not doin' nothin', the way she looks at it, is worser than doin' somethin', even if that somethin' happens to be the wrong thing to do. Besides, she says that not doin' nothin' is the lazy way out. Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' lazy sometimes, but you ort not to make a whole life out of it. They's a lot more to life than jist settin' around thinkin' about quittin' somethin' all the time. That makes sense, I reckon. In a way it does. I ain't never looked at it like that before. One thing about it, if it was me, lookin' at the list of right things I done would prob'ly shorten the list of stuff I had to look at a right good bit. Me and her talked about that some here the other day and Marie says you can tell what kind of a person somebody is by how they look at things like that. She says that if you come up on somebody that decides they're gonna quit doin' somethin', that tells you one thing about'em and if they come up with somethin' they're gonna start doin', it tells you somethin' else about'em. I don't know which one is worse. Is it worser when you're doin' somethin' you ort to quit doin' or is it worser when you ain't doin' somethin' that you ort to be doin'? Or it might be the same thing. Take the case of somebody that's too fat. That's one I can relate to real easy. Maybe I decide I'm gonna quit eatin' so much so I can lose some weight. Well, they ain't nothin' the matter with that. Lord knows I could stand to shed a few pounds. But, then, you got Marie standin' over there and she says she's gonna start eatin' right so's she won't be fat no more. See what I mean? Both of us said about the same thing, but we're lookin' at it from two whole different angles. I'm sayin' I'm gonna quit somethin' and she says he's gonna start somethin'. I don't know which way is the best. I look at things from the quittin' end of the pipe and Marie looks at it from the startin' end. She puts up a purty good argument fer startin', but the way I look at it, they's more to it than that. Life ain't all black and white like that. I'm all fer doin' somethin' that's good and right, but, on the other hand, if I'm doin' somethin' that ain't right, the thing fer me to do is quit. All the do-goodin' in the world ain't gonna make up fer it if I'm doin' mean things. I got to stop doin' the mean things I might be doin' before my do- goodin' is gonna do any good. See what I mean? I guess in the end it don't matter much matter which way you look at it. The important thing is doin' somethin' about it after you get through talkin' about it. I ain't made but one resolation, but I'm stickin' to mine. It might not change my life, but even if I make this one little bitty change, it'll be fer the better. I'll be that much better off this time next year than I am right now. Who knows? By the time I'm 500 years old, maybe I'll be a purty good ol' boy! =============================================================== IF I WERE FROM A DIFFERENT PAST by Eloise Blanpied If I were from a different past, I'd know How death is linked to life as life to death. I'd know that Meaning stirs up every breath And is the cause that ancient seeds will grow. I'd see God's plan wherever I would go And feel the old and new as One and yet As two. I'd breathe my last with no regret And welcome warmly what His plan would show. But from my past I've heard no solid thought That argues well for being beyond life. It matters not to me that life is all; It's all I want. And, if I could, I'd stall The end and ever keep the joy and strife Of my good world that chance and choice have wrought. =============================================================== end cybersenior 4.1