Chains, Strings and Self-Imposed Shackles

Image: staticmixers.net

Baby elephants are trained by tying them to a pole with a thick string or chain that makes it impossible for them to stray far. Before the elephant grows into a large and powerful animal, it becomes accustomed to the fact that, when bound, it cannot go far. This assumption becomes so powerful that the adult elephant need only be tied with a string to keep it from wandering. 

Having newly arrived in my home country for an emergency visit, I still have a fresh, objective perspective on everyday habits here. I find it surprising how many of the restrictions that exist in this society, within my ethnic culture and within my family are so overwhelmingly powerful, yet almost completely imaginary. The habits are simply so strong that they are not even questioned. 

Many of these habits are positive. Almost two decades after the demise of the apartheid regime in my homeland, it is heart-warming to see the general respect and benevolence between different cultural groups that has become a habit. The force of habit also drives many positive actions in my family, such as sitting down to meals together and truly engaging each other in meaningful conversation. 

Yet the self-imposed shackles of some of our negative assumptions are even more powerful. South Africa's legacy of economic inequality and ensuing crime colours so many of our daily actions. Most cars are not only locked at the doors but also at the steering wheel or gears, and house doors are commonly protected with a second steel gate. At a mobile phone customer services desk I recently waited half an hour for service from one of three clerks while surrounded by three hovering security guards. In the family home where I am staying, an outdoor light that was, according to all reports, thoroughly broken, lit up when the lightbulb was replaced, and years of mental gymnastics to accommodate a single front door key was solved with a R15 (US$2) duplicate. Unquestioned assumptions are worth looking into sometimes. 

There is nothing wrong with habit: it is, after all, a force powerful enough to keep a three tonne elephant in captivity with a mere string. But a force that powerful should be applied with great awareness and care.  If the habit does not serve, it is good to know that the imagined shackle is simply a string. And it can be broken. 

Being the Magician's Apprentice

Frankincense Ice Cream Logo in Arabic

I have always wanted to be a magician's apprentice. Today this wish came true. My evening - from dusk to well after midnight - was spent in the apprenticeship of someone I consider a true magician. 

Trygve Harris is the owner of a New York City aromatics and essential oils boutique store called  Enfleurage, and an authority on natural aromatics. What makes Trygve a magician - a mage even - is the way she harnesses her relentless passion for fragrance in her work and business. For anyone surrounded by the workaday world it is an inspiration to see what a passion-driven vocation looks like in action. Catch a whiff of the heady perfume of her aromatic lifework on her sensuous blog. It is a virtual version of her fragrant home in Salalah, where you literally breathe a vapour of frankincense in a nest so cozy you just want to curl up and purr. 

I was apprenticed to this remarkable magician when she was granted special permission to sell frankincense ice cream at the Salalah Khareef Festival this year. The ice cream has evolved from a family recipe we shared months back to a streamlined version perfected by a New York chef. It is laced with a dash of Enfleurage's frankincense essential oil, which she describes as sharp, snappy and sparkling. This ice cream is nothing short of a spiritual experience. 

Being deeply intrigued by this project, I was delighted to lend a hand at the stall. It has been an enlightening and educational experience. We must have learned our lesson well, because we sold out each and every one of the 150 tubs of ice cream in stock today. There were rave reviews, and it did not even take much to lure Oman's national television film crew to the stand to shoot a most unusual feature. This is, after all, a stark departure from the usual souvenirs, and being cajoled into tasting a new delicacy by two zealous Western women is not something shoppers here encounter every day. Or ever, for that matter. 

What did my magician's apprenticeship teach me? That people are kind. That they like to have fun and will reward whoever makes it happen. That they are honest - someone returned to pay back excess change he had received. That they are generous: several people bought ice cream for complete strangers. That they are helpful: our valiant attempts at selling in our best-effort Arabic were received warmly, and many people patiently taught us new words that would help with the pitch. That it's OK if people say no thank you. That selling is a lot easier when what you sell is wonderful (even if its quality makes it pricier).  That perseverance pays off. That dreams that come true begin with ideas, but that it takes strategic action to let those ideas flourish into living, breathing realities. 

Perhaps most of all, what I learned is that work done with passion is pure pleasure. We worked extremely hard today,  setting up the stall, rushing around and charming people for seven hours straight. Yet I returned home at 1:30 AM full of energy, enthusiasm and ideas. Every minute was a delight. 

And so I return from my apprenticeship under the master magician with a great deal to show for it. I look forward to dropping in at the stall daily as long as I am in town (just another week! Eek!). Even more, I look forward to doing a bit of magic of my own. Because the thing about an apprenticeship with a magician is that some of that magic really does rub off.