OXLAEY is a cultural heritage travel magazine. We tell stories about singers, painters, poets, craftsmen and craftswomen, as well as traditions and religious rituals. At www.oxlaey.com you can find videos, music, articles and subscribe to our print magazine!
The Ankeruhr stands high at the Hohe Markt in Vienna, Austria. The clock was designed to make time stand still, in a way. It seems that human beings have forever tried to immortalize themselves. Famous Romans built statues and buildings so the next generations would remember them. European kings wanted to be powerful forever so they commissioned wall-sized, selfie-styled paintings. Rich people do the same today. People like Bill Gates, who started a foundation, so his fortune can perpetuate his reputation long after his death. WHY THE ANKERUHR WAS BUILT A life insurance company built the Ankeruhr in 1915. The clock was a memorial for Vienna's most powerful citizens. That's why the Ankeruhr looks radically different than a normal clock with big and small hands, which turning around and point at numbers.Instead the Ankeruhr has a different life-sized statue for each hour, that walks across a bridge between two buildings. Over each figure’s head is a number, which is the time of the day. In total, there are twelve statues, each one a famous person in Vienna’s long history. There’s Prince Eugene of Savoy, for example, who crosses the bridge at 10. Maria Theresa travels at 11. At 12 o’clock, at noon, all twelve of the figures parade out together as a group. RESTORATION IN 1990s But even the Ankeruhr’s creator couldn’t design a clock that ran forever, which is where Robert Kalivoda enters this story. By the 1990s, the mechanics of the Ankeruhr, the gears and chains inside the clock, were falling apart. It needed to be fixed and Kalivoda - one of Vienna’s master watchmakers - was hired to bring the Ankeruhr back to life.Kalivoda said, “In 1992 I completely restored the clock’s internal mechanics. It’s an electric-powered clock. That’s how it was built. But it was treated quite poorly and worn down until nothing was left. One reason I got the job is because I promised, I would restore the clock while retaining the original internal mechanics - at least in their appearance. But of course it’s not possible to keep a person on staff who runs around the inside of the clock with an oil can to keep everything oiled and running smoothly. So I replaced some mechanical parts, which you don’t see, with modern ones, like low-maintenance bearings. That way we only have to physically check the clock once every four months.” ANKERUHR'S ORIGINAL SOUND: AN ORGAN Instead of chimes or bells, like European church clocks, the Ankeruhr was built with a unique source of sound.“When this clock was first built, there was an organ at the top and an organist would go up to play at noon. Depending on the season, he would play different tunes,” points out Kalivoda.But the Ankeruhr was designed to be much more than just a functional object. From it’s conception, it was intended to be a work of art. The Viennese artist Franz Matsch built decorative, curved lines into the Ankeruhr. Art Nouveau was in fashion and design elements are seen in the floral ornaments and two small stone trees left and right on the clock bridge.The Ankeruhr was lovely to look at but it also told time. Most people in Vienna one-hundred years ago didn’t have a clock in their homes. Instead, they listened to the sounds chiming from Vienna’s many church clocks, so they’d always be punctual. INSIDE KALIVODA'S CLOCK WORKSHOP It’s practically impossible for Kalivoda to be late himself, because he is surrounded by clocks. Together with his son, Arno, he works in a one-room one-room workshop. On every wall hang clocks, large and small, keeping the time. Most are interesting to look at, but more hypnotic are the sounds. The tick tock coming from so many clocks at once, all beating rhythmically together, is a kind of mechanical symphony. There are light crisp ticks and heavy metal, thud-like tocks. Robert and Arno Kalivoda have a few clocks in their shop which are hundreds of years old.But the skill of telling time goes back thousands of years,
INTRODUCING ROSSANEE NURFARIDA (โรสนี นูรฟารีดา)Rossanee Nurfarida was born in Thailand’s so-called “Deep South”. Her first collection of poetry Far Away From Our Own Homes was a Finalist for the 2016 South East Asian (SEA) Writers Award. Not only does Nurfarida’s Muslim hijab standout in Thailand, a country made up predominantly of Buddhists. Her poetry also tacks a daring course, pointing out how religion can divide the Thai state, communities, and lovers. While most Thai poets have been men employing strict rhythmic structures in their poetry, Ms. Nurfarida words express a modern woman’s perspective composed in free verse. INTERVIEW In 2017, OXLAEY’s Ryan Anderson interviewed Nurfarida (in English) about her work and the poem, Lost in Homeland. Nurfarida: My name is Rossanee Nufarida. This is my pen name. I live in Hat Yai, Songkhla, in southern Thailand. I love to call myself a storyteller, because I like to share what I see, what I feel, what I think.”Anderson: Why do you use a pen name, rather than your real name when writing poetry?Nurfarida: My real name is Rossanee Kaesaman. Kaesaman is my family name. Do you want to know the real story? The truth is that, when you say I’m from this family, they will know where your hometown is, who is your father, who is your mother. So I want to protect my family. My dad saw the cover and asked me, ‘why are you this name’?Anderson: Can you describe your clothes?Nurfarida: Everyday when I go out from my home, I wear this scarf. We call it a hijab. I want to show that Muslims can do everything. When I wear hijab and I work, people are amazed when I interview them They say you are a journalist in hijab. In Thai society, Muslims are like second-grade people. Islam is not a bad thing for this land or this country. I don’t know what the problem is between the religions or different way of thinking, but finally I found that they don’t understand why. Why we have to do this. Why we can’t do something.Anderson: What was going on in your life when you wrote “Lost in Homeland”?Nurfarida: [There were] three things in that poem on my mind. The world situation, the refugees like the Rohingya, or another group that has to move. The second is the Thai political situation. The third is, sometimes I feel lost in my own home town. I go somewhere I know. I stand together with others, but I still feel lonely.”Anderson: How is your poetry different than older Thai poets?Nurfarida: The old Thai poem style, they have a rhythm. They have strict syllables. My style is free verse. There aren’t syllables or rhythms. POEM VIDEO: LOST IN HOMELANDIn 2016, Rossanee and Ryan teamed up to create a video version of this poem. In the video version, Ms. Nurfarida recites her poem while stranded on an old fishing boat perched at the top of a four-story, urban house in southern Thailand. The video’s visual references to Islam extend the poem’s “lost at sea” metaphor, commenting on southern Thailand’s Muslim minority as possibly being a nation stranded in the country of their birth. LOST IN HOMELAND was a 2017 official selection at the Juteback Poetry Film Festival, the Bangkok Underground Film Festival, and the CYCLOP International Poetry Film Contest. POETRY ANALYSIS Lost in Homeland paints the picture of an individual, alone and drifting aimlessly at sea. This image contrasts with other seafarers that Nurfarida names in the first stanza of the poem. The poet references the famous Chinese explorer Zheng He (1371 – 1433) as well as armadas in Southeast Asia led by European colonists from the 16th to the 19th centuries. The small boat imagined by the poet is, however, powerless. It floats listfully, almost aimlessly in no particular direction. It’s so far from land that no birds are seen. Even the crash of waves has seemly abandoned this boat, which doesn’t have a mast to propel itself forward.
100 years ago, rice farmers near Songhkla, Thailand would send their freshly-cut rice to the Red Rice Mill to be processed for sale. Rangsi Ratanaprakarn’s father ran the mill and raised his family across the street. The following is an excerpt from his short autobiographical book, Growing Up at the Red Rice Mill, featuring stories from his childhood. The artwork is by the amazing Malaysian artist, Kiah Kiean Chng at KaKi Creation in Penang. You can DOWNLOAD Mr. Rangsi's e-book for free. "My father loved this place so much. I want to keep it to now hand it over to my children. Because of the Red Rice Mill, my father and our family had a good life. I could go canoeing on the lake. Learn to drive a car. I went go to college. All the stories I told you. Later I started my own company and have travelled all around the world. This was all made possible because my father and mother worked hard - and because of the Red Rice Mill. I learned from my father the importance of a good education, working hard, and of helping other people.""I remember walking into the rice mill. They burned rice husks to heat the water boiler. The smoke went up the stack but because of the turbulence in the air, you could smell the smoke throughout the rice mill. It didn’t smell bad - not like burning plastic today - but it wasn’t very pleasant either.The Red Rice Mill is four stories tall. You can see lots of very small, square windows on the outside. They were built for ventilation. Back when the mill was in operation, there were people who worked on each floor. Their job was to make sure the belts and pulleys connected to the steam engine worked correctly. But it got hot inside, so they could open these windows and the air would come in and cool them down. There wasn’t any electricity so the windows also provided light.In the morning, my father would leave the house and walk across the street to the mill. He’d go through two small doors, now to the right of the Songkhla Heritage Society’s glass office.Right from the beginning there was a mistake in the design of the rice mill. The smoke stack you see today looks so nice, but it was never used. When my father’s uncle designed the rice mill, he ordered a steam engine from England. Before it arrived, he decided to go ahead and build the smoke stack they would need to attach to the boiler. That way, when the engine and boiler arrived, they could get started right away. They imported high quality bricks from India for this first smoke stack. It was a good idea, but for some reason, the Chinese carpenter didn’t read the plans correctly. The first smoke stack was built in the wrong place. They put the boiler and engine on the other side of the rice mill. That meant that they then had to build another stack so they could get a draft to the boiler. This second stack was the one they used for so many years, but it was made from cheaper, local bricks. It wasn’t as strong as the first stack made from bricks imported from India. So after the steam engine was no longer needed, they decided to dismantle the second stack. They thought the cheap bricks would be too dangerous to leave up, so it was dismantled. The smoke stack you see today was the one made from Indian bricks, the first stack, which was never used.The breeze would come about 6 or 8 months a year. so it helped to blow and send the draft through the boiler and through to the stack. The boiler and engine were set up on the other side of the rice mill. In the corner, there was a boiler. With a fire, they boiled water which powered the steam engine. The steam engine turned one big wheel. From this one wheel there were many pulleys running throughout the rice mill. This was how they ground the rice. Today you can still see many places where the pulleys and belts ran. The roof in the main hall was much lower than now. Then in 2491, this area (the old roof) was demolished and rebuilt in concrete.
I’m a man. Men aren’t allowed at the market. Discrimination. And why? "Go away!” screeched the wrinkled, 85-year old. With "them" she means men. She means me and completely rejects my question, adding a dismissive wave of her hand to punctuate her point. Only her thin smile and twinkling eyes let me know that she was (perhaps) just kidding... and would I’d like to buy some of betel nuts to chew on?Almost anything you need for life, you'll find it at the Mother’s Market in Imphal, India. Raw potatoes, religious coconuts, live fish, squares of brightly colored fabric for a new sari. The one thing you won’t find here: Men! The 'Women Only' Bazaar The Mothers’ Market is quite possibly the only bazaar in the world where women legally discriminate against men. Men are allowed to shop, but otherwise they have to leave. The city even posts notices that men shouldn’t hang out at the Market, if they’ve got nothing better to do. The Mother’s Market is run and managed entirely by women. The market's located at the heart of Imphal, a remote city in northeastern India.The physical building itself isn’t much to look at. It has the elegance of a parking garage, open on all sides. Inside, a chill fills the air, which is why most of the women at the market are wrapped up to their chins in blankets. Only their heads peak out, topped with a sliver of sandal paste decoratively running from the top of their forehead to between their Asian-shaped eyes. The women sit perched along elevated concrete platforms stretching the length of the hall. Each woman's goods are piled up around them. They look like small statues, goddesses resting in a shrine, with only an occasional arm emerging from underneath their shawls to beckon a customer or complete a sale“But it’s 2016!” I said to Chitra, a female journalist from Imphal. We were interviewing some of the women. "What about equal rights? What about gender equality? Isn’t it time that discrimination against these Indian men come to an end?”The old betel nut seller’s facial expression let me know, that this was one of the moronic questions she’d ever heard in her long, wrinkled life. “It’s not possible. This is only for women,” she said.Hundreds of years ago, Imphal was the capital of an independent kingdom and the town's men were drafted into the king’s royal workforce. It was this tradition, called the Llapup system, that forced the remaining women in town to take over selling at the bazaar. Generation after generation followed and the market simply became known as the "Ima Keithel" - Mothers’ Market.Centuries later, the bazaar is still the exclusive domain for Imphal’s women. Men are emphatically shut out from working here, and there’re good reasons for the continued discrimination!Discrimination: 4 Reasons Why Men are Not Allowed Two chatty, neighboring vendors sit selling strings of colored beads and small squares of fabric. They’re both wrapped in beautiful shawls. “Some men touched a woman while unloading fish.” “That's what we heard and there was lots of trouble.” "That’s why men are not allowed.” Both nod emphatically together.A different reason for the discrimination against men is offered up by a thin vegetable vendor, chewing on a piece of fruit. "Men aren’t allowed. How should we sit here together? I’m a woman. If a man sits too close, you know what might happen. No, it’s not morally acceptable.”Back at the betel nut stall, a third argument: "Outside of Manipur you’ll only find men shopkeepers. Only here is there a market just for women. This is for women. Any woman can sell here. Just no men.”Finally, one of the youngest women I speak with all day, offers up her thinking. “Its called the Mothers’ Market because of us. If men can sell here too, how will it be Mothers’ Market? So we can’t let men work here. My grandmother and mother-in-law, they made the market what it is today. If men come, the character will be lost.
An earthquake in 2003 destroyed the 1000 year old city of mud: Arg-e Bam. Iran's cultural heritage expert, Hadi Admadi, was there from the first day. He was witness and then expert in helping to rebuild the ancient city. His work was critical in the rebuilding process during the first years after the earthquake.BAM EARTHQUAKE 2013'When I arrived there, everything was destroyed. There were bodies on the streets. Everything had collapsed. Arg-e Bam city, the city that we know now, dates back to 2500 years before. A very beautiful, big castle, a mud-brick castle. Everyone knows Arg-e Bam as a symbol of earthen architecture in Iran.""Some experts argued that we have to rebuild the Arg-e Bam citadel as it was - with the same materials and same methods - just keep the tradition keep the authenticity. Other believed that we have to reconstruct Bam with new materials and totally rebuild it. The middle decision between these two groups was to rebuild Arg-e Bam by using traditional materials but using modern methods."TECHNIQUES IN REBUILDING BAM "With the knowledge we have now about mud brick, soil an clay - we can make the best mud brick possible. Everything in Bam is still made with mud bricks.""Mud brick technology hasn't changed so much until now. First they take the mud and put it in a timber frame. Then they remove the timber, put it under the sun to dry it. It's just that simple.""The scientific part is concerned with the kind of soil we use, and the type of additives and how we put them together. We add things to the mud brick - usually straw - to increase the resistance of the bricks to crack. German experts from Dresden University used new materials in getting mud bricks to stick to the wall such as fiberglass. The Iranian part used a palm tree rope to use in building domes.""Archeologists found a lot of things. Before the earthquake everybody thought it maybe dates back 2,500 years ago but they didn't know what had happened inside the walls, underneath the houses.""Now you can see a beautiful, clean city, alleys, the bazaar, buildings. You can see several workshops with laborers and masters who are actuality rebuilding and restoring the destroyed buildings. You can see a lot of scaffolding who are working to rebuild Bam.""All Iranians were united about rebuilding Bam - and also the world. If everybody wants it, the huge destruction, the huge disaster, could be solved, if everybody works together."Watch more videos from IranFor more on BAM, watch this unedited interview with Mr. Admadi.