BOATING UP THE RIVER NIGER TO THE CITY OF GOLD!

LONG TIME DREAMS FINALLY BECOME MY REALITY AS AT LAST, I TAKE A RIVER BOAT UP THE RIVER NIGER TO THE CITY OF GOLD, TOMBOUCTOU! Post No.43 (A 12 minute read) 

Dreams, dreams and more dreams!!!! But what are dreams if not our own visions of what we would like to see and FEEL. INFJs FEEL their way INTUITIVELY through their lives, using their own JUDGEMENT, not being cramped by the man-made taboos which are designed to cover up the truth. Our time spent INTROVERTEDLY searching within, leads us to become our own leaders. Those with support are generally ASSERTIVE INFJs and those without support, generally TURBULENT INFJs.

What I am learning of late, is that INFJs of the TURBULENT nature, must learn to be ASSERTIVE even though they have NO support. We have got to possess the power of our own convictions. Yes, we are right! The others are ALL wrong. That is the truth! If they will all be in denial of their truth, then what can we say to them all?

Belief!!! I started my introduction to my first book ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN, talking of faith, belief and hope. We have got to BELIEVE in our own righteousness and worth. We have got to have FAITH in our own ability and its worth to the greater good. Therein we will find our ray of HOPE, that these visions that we can see so clearly could be possible, if only?????????

A very good morning to you readers around the world. It really is a great pleasure to me to know that I have been read in now twenty different countries, across the five continents. Yes, INFJs, we know that we are few and far between, we know that! But the silence of all of these readers does give me some food for thought, it really does!!!!

I am actually giving myself a long, slow torture session by re-living these wonderful years of my life again. My dreams used to become realities lived, just like Mr. Benn. That is what had stopped. The dreaming stopped, there were no more visions, no more blissful realities. My mother´s voice, "No one is forcing you to go, but you might regret it if you do not!"

Whether I would have given up dreaming of those childhood desires, I do not know. Having lived my dreams always, I expected to carry on doing so. Not so, that is the difference of settling down with an incompatible partner who does not share your visions of the world. All your dreams will be snuffed out from now on.

So, you stop dreaming, why bother, to be let down and deceived? Do not get your hopes up! And so the transformation of the ASSERTIVE INFJ begins. Bringing them down off their flying high on life to chaining them into the ignominy of grovelling on the ground and hoping that death comes to them quick.

Marriage, is the death of dreaming for a woman, unless you share the same dreams that is. So girls, look for the dreamers but check out what their dreams are about first!!!!

LIFTING THE MAN-MADE TABOOS, COURTESY OF A FEMALE INFJ!!

I am now in Mopti, Mali, I have booked myself a first class cabin on a river boat going upstream to Tombouctou the ancient crossroads city, formerly known as `The City of Gold´. I had seen documentaries of travellers on expeditions along the River Niger and of course, I had seen some years back in southern Morocco a sign post which said, "TOMBOUCTOU. 52 DAYS BY CAMEL!"

The name had become synonymous with the `middle of nowhere´ but it was of course, in its prime time, the absolute centre of a whole Empire and a major trading centre. Any one who was buying and selling in Africa, came through Tombouctou. I am using the French spelling for Tombouctou as that is how I have become accustomed to knowing it.

This was therefore, another of the major highlights of my adventure. I quote myself from chapter forty, GOING UPSTREAM, RIVER NIGER:

I walked up the gang plank and was welcomed on board by the boat´s steward, who directed me to my cabin. "MY cabin, oooh, I am looking forward to this!" I said to myself! Images of Hercule Poirot´s elegant cabins above deck, which could leave you wanting to live on that boat! Dressing for dinner and dining in a sumptuous dining room! That was the Nile of course, NO, I was not expecting the décor and Poirot too, had to share the toilet and bathroom facilities on board!

But when I walked along the deck looking for my cabin number, I was taken aback by the number of people in each cabin. Well, I am not averse to `roughing it´, as you will be well aware by now, but I had bought a first class ticket. Of course, these were second class cabins, were they not? I walked to the end of the line of doors and asked another steward, who led me back down the line and stopped me at my door!

"This is my cabin?" I ask, feeling sure that there must be some misunderstanding. "Yes!" he says. "That is why they recommend that you come early! So you can choose your bunk!" Choose my bunk??? What in first class??? Well, well, well! There were eight people in the room. A triple set of bunks on the three sides and the door way on the fourth, opened where I was standing right now having all my Poirot fantasies totally blown apart!

"Good afternoon!" they all said cheerfully. "Welcome, come and have some tea!" My bunk therefore, was the only one not yet taken. The top bunk, would you know, on the back wall! I put my baggage on the bunk, as a trestle table was put into the only space. Three to a bottom bunk, we were lined up nicely at our makeshift table. I had arrived just in time for dinner!!

My head was reeling as a trolley came into view at our doorway and plates, cutlery and food were produced. Maybe if I tell you that it was `riz-sauce´, you will not be overly surprised but my roomates, all eight of them, swooped on the food with hunger as opposed to gusto! End of quote.

They were many the moments like this one that really changed me permanently from the molly-coddled, cotton woolly European that I had been brought up to be. I could see so vividly that choice here was not an option hardly ever. You took what there was, full stop. You could not dare to turn your nose up at anything that was available. I could see how picky and choosy we were in our westernized lives and how unimportant it all suddenly seemed to me.

I learnt what is truly important to living, working and breathing. What is absolutely essential and what are nice extras. Whilst this all belongs to my past, I recognize that there lays my big issue. This should have ever been my ongoing living, working, breathing but I have never met another human being who FELT the same way!

This whole book is entirely off the top of my head which is why I am so proud of it. The only research I did was this following part, as mentioned in this chapter. And like I say in my book, oh, I wished that I had known that information at that time. But I explore the attempts of European explorers who came and tried to find the source of the River Niger.

That is rather funny, it is. And of course, the title of first white man through the gates of The City of Gold, Tombouctou, was a highly sought after one as well. White man being the eternal unevolved fool that he is, well, there were many failed attempts of course. Very interesting details and at the same time, the organization named `THE ASSOCIATION FOR PROMOTING THE DISCOVER OF THE INNER PARTS OF AFRICA´ was born. 

In today´s world, that organization is now called THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY. So, yes, it would have been good to know all of that. It was an incredible week spent and I was able to see real, live hippopotami and crocodiles on the banks along the way. 

Chapter forty-one, UP THE RIVER AND ROUND THE BEND, continues this river journey and sadly, the river was running low and we could not make it all the way to Tombouctou. We were able to make it to Kebara not too far off and continue by land to Tombouctou. These are dense chapters, I am skimming over them, hoping that some day there will be those sat peacefully in their own space and time, who will glide down the River Niger and FEEL it with me.

Tombouctou is an incredible place. It was an important centre of learning too. The Sankoré Mosque is more than one thousand, one hundred and forty years old. That was paid for by a woman !And I wander off again into the Arab tradition of teaching and learning. The very first teaching centre ever built was in Morocco by a Tunisian woman. It was ever the intention of the Arab women to share learning and see learning shared.

The Al-Karaoiune Mosque of Fez el-Bali, Morocco, is the oldest centre of learning in the world. It was founded in the year 859AD and is the centre with the longest continuous use in the world too. I knew Fez el-Bali held much wisdom, I FELT it when I was there. Fatima al-Fihri founded that one and her sister Maryam al-Fihri, founded the Al-Andalus Mosque also in Fez el-Bali.

The wealth of learning available in Tombouctou is immense. The collections of ancient works that remain still intact is spectacular. I comment that their maths instruction was equal to our second year university material of today. We used to have many wise men!!!! We still have, except that they are not our leaders anymore, MAN-KIND is!!

I round off this chapter looking at how we have lost wisdom along our respective migrations. I look at what is our learning and its worth in real terms. I look at the usurpation and colonization of the poor folk of Mali through time and explore how cultures and languages change, not through choice but by MAN-KIND´s domination and dictatorship. 

I will close up with the last paragraph of this chapter which has set things up nicely for chapter forty- two, PEARLS OF WISDOM. I was in full inspirational flight now, in the writing of this book. I was no longer here, I was wandering Africa again, I was alive and living again. I want to live but I want to FEEL that I am living and FEEL that I am alive!

I quote myself: 

What is the point in channelling tens of thousands of young people through to university degrees and doctorates for, if they have no place to fill? And then of course, MAN-KIND will make HIS own decisions in spite of HIS expert´s learned advice! Why surround yourself with experts to systematically override them because they are singing from a different song sheet to you?

They are on the song sheets written by the wise and learned! And what is MAN-KIND´S  song sheet after all, if not HIS own little ditty? Whilst it may amuse a few cronies who stand to gain from the rendition, for the rest of us though, it will surely mean a negative change of some sort! End of quote.

Pearls of Wisdom next post my friends. Thank you for reading today and please do FEEL welcome to comment or communicate via e-mail. I have a contact box and a follow tab in the right-hand panel. Have yourselves a very positive day wherever you are. 

Do you sing off the same song sheet as anyone that you know? Are you in tune with anyone that you know? Or are you, just like me, always finding the song sheets of other´s so ugly, so lacking in any lyrical depth, totally lacking melody, rhythm and tempo, to say nothing of harmony, that you FEEL permanently out of tune with other´s? Let me know, why not!

Until the next time, happy learning! My book can be found with these Amazon links: ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN Paperback and ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN e-book

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