Posts

Sverige möts - inte

Image
  ”Sverige möts”,  tv-debatten om folkomröstningen i Malung onsdagen den 7/10 2020 , lämnar en fadd eftersmak. Sällan har begreppet ”den tysta majoriteten” fått en sådan primetime-möjlighet som i detta program, en möjlighet som fylldes med en kompakt och ekande... tystnad. Sverige möttes inte. I den rådgivande folkomröstningen om en vindkraftpark på Ripfjället nyligen  sade en tydlig majoritet i kommunen nej . Men under debatten i Sveriges Television saknades dessa röster. För att ytterligare understryka demokratins skakiga position denna kväll tillkännagav den socialdemokratiske ordföranden i kommunfullmäktige Hans Unander i direktsändningen att kommunen inte kommer att beakta folkomröstningsutslaget, utan ge vindkraftsbolaget rätten att sätta upp snurrorna. Den enda i församlingen  som egentligen hade något att erinra mot denna demokratiska frivolt var Henrik Wachtmeister från föreningen Svenskt landskapsskydd, som med en greves vältalighet sökte ge röst åt den frånvarande majoritete

Up the Gambia river to find the Roots

Image
Hanna at the docks in Banjul, Gambia, on the lookout for her Roots! There’s no doubt in my mind what has been the most soul-stirring part of our wonderful Song Safari to Gambia.   Travelling up the Gambia river in search of my daughter Hanna’s slave roots… Do I hear a few grumbles here? Hanna’s slave roots in Gambia? The slave museum in Jufureh Spotting Jufureh from the boat.  Well,  your scepticism is  justified, Hanna slave-roots are not in Gambia, they are in Benin, but never have I been so close to them as the day when we took the boat up the Gambia river and visited Jufureh, Kunta Kinte’s roots, and greeted his family still living there. Meeting Kunta Kinte's relatives The memorial in Jufureh Let’s take it from the beginning; I have searched Johannas roots and found something astonishing; Johanna’s (this is easier in Swedish:) mormorsmormorsmorfarsmormorsmormorsmormor’s name was Koddo and she was a slave arriving

Bulgarian sole-music

Image
E ver since I heard the haunting voices of the Bulgarian female choirs in the 80's and 90's I wanted to come here and explore the song-paths of this country. And now when I am here I am astonished how well the story of this country is conveyed by its music; the beauty of the mountains, the pain of its history, the longing of its spirituality... all was there in the music, and all is now here to be discovered  tangibly on my first visit. I am in the best of companies; hosted in Plovdiv, the European Cultural Capital of 2019, by a group of really dedicated hosts who are eager to share the treasures that are hiding underneath the surface. As with the magnificent Roman theatre here, which was rediscovered, unearthed and restored only late in the 20th century, so are we, together with our hosts, rediscovering the rich cultural treasures of this in many ways forgotten corner of Europe. And what a beautiful group to explore it with: In our network "Co-creating Europe" a

On the importance of choosing the right grocery store.

Image
--> We are two days in on our run of concerts at Baxter Theatre, Rondebosch, Cape Town. Some songs are, as they should be, harder to sing and listen to than others, but they are important ingredients in our stew of bitter and sweet. Some songs bring sweet memories of victories won and some courage for victories to be won. But to have the opportunity to express it all in music and words is precious. A human right that this part of the world has taught me all I know about. I had to go and do a little shopping just before yesterday’s concert. I asked where the closest grocery shop was and got the answer Pic’n’pay in Rondebosch. I went there, for the first time ever, but still had a flashback of memories… Almost 40 years ago when I came to do a volunteer year in SA I stayed together with two other young foreign men in a house in the designated “white” area of Rondebosch, trying to come to terms with the absolute madness of its racial laws in our daily rou