Friday Photo #14: Storage Containers

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I discovered these large storage containers gathering dust in the basement of an abandoned stone house on the Greek island of Ikaria during my extended stay there in 2008.

I have no idea how old they are, but they are almost certainly 60-70 years old if not even up to 100 years old. They were – and still are – traditionally used to store olive oil, or the whole olives themselves. They might also be used to store home made wine, potatoes, or other long lasting vegetables or grains, which would serve to keep the household in provisions throughout the long winters.

Today, modern containers made from plastic are substituting for these large clay pots, which can be a metre or more (3 feet) high. As durable as the plastic may be, it will never be as aesthetically pleasing to look at, nor will it last as long.

Photographer: Jim Lesses, Ikaria, May 2008

Ferry Hopping Around Sydney Harbour

~ Have I told you about the day I spent ferry-hopping my way around Sydney Harbour? No? Well, then, this is as good a time as any to tell you about one of Sydney’s hidden gems – the Day Tripper transport pass.

The $17.00 Day Tripper Pass gives you unlimited transfers across the whole of Sydney’s trains, buses, and ferry services. During my Sydney stay I decided to purchase one and use it to ride as many of Sydney’s iconic ferries as I could. In the end I only managed to travel on four of eight ferry routes, but I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my time on the Harbour.

My first ‘port of call’ was of course, Circular Quay, where I boarded the first available ferry for my adventures out and about on Sydney Harbour. As it happened, the first ferry I spotted was going to Manly, so I quickly boarded and found some free space up by the bow.

I should have guessed the Manly ferry would be one of the most popular operating out of Circular Quay, and indeed a good 80% of the passengers were tourists and visitors like myself.

As we cast off from the quay, the jockeying for prime photographic positions was well and truly underway. Those passengers on the right (or starboard) side of the ferry, concentrated their cameras on the Sydney Opera House, while those on the left/port side, aimed their ‘weapons’ at the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The best placed travellers at the bow of the ferry were of course, able to capture both landmarks, while those at the stern aimed their cameras at the slowly receding city skyline, before turning their attentions to both the Opera House and Harbour Bridge.

The 30 minute trip to Manly went smoothly enough, and as I disembarked at Manly Wharf, my intention was to spend another 30 minutes having a quick look around before reboarding the next ferry back to Circular Quay. Two hours later I finally forced myself back onto a ferry to complete that circuit!

Ah, Manly. Even in April the sunbathers were still to be seen stretching out on the sand soaking up as much warmth as the late autumn sun could offer.

Manly. The name says it all. Venice Beach it isn’t, but Manly Beach can still muster up a good showing of inline skaters, joggers, visitors, skateboarders, gawkers, dog walkers, swimmers, promenaders, tourists, surfers, poseurs, and the afore mentioned sunbathers.

While there, make sure you take the time to sample the fish-n-chips from one of the numerous outlets along the foreshore, or The Corso, that strangely named thoroughfare leading from Manly Wharf to the main beach.

The ferry to and from Circular Quay sails parallel to the ‘heads’ separating the north shore from the south. As we cruised past the entrance to Sydney Harbour – or if you prefer, the entrance to the Pacific Ocean – the ferry bucked and heaved in the rising swell. Tourists around me oo-ed and ah-ed as the sea spray hung in the air, and the ferry carved its way into calmer waters again for the remainder of the journey to Circular Quay.

At Circular Quay I quickly boarded the Neutral Bay ferry service. This service makes a number of stops along the North Shore, and includes Kirribilli, where the Australian Prime Minister has his Sydney lodgings (at the appropriately named Kirribilli House).

Back at the Quay my next cruise was on the Balmain/Woolwich ferry. Instead of doing the full circuit, I decided to jump off after several harbourside stops at Greenwich Point. From the landing site I had a clear view of the Sydney skyline, and as the afternoon sun began dipping in the west, I took photo after photo of a golden sunset reflecting off the glass and steel of the buildings in the CBD.

My final ride was on the longest of the eight major ferry routes servicing Sydney Harbour. This route, which runs up the Parramatta River to the suburb of Parramatta, is serviced by a RiverCat vessel – a large catamaran type craft designed to navigate the lower depths of the river, especially at the Parramatta wharf end.

By the time I boarded the RiverCat, the sun had all but disappeared below the horizon. For the next hour, I and my fellow passengers were treated to a spectacular evening cruise that took in Luna Park, Darling Harbour, Cockatoo Island, Olympic Park, and almost a dozen other harbourside stops. And best of all, I was able to stay on the craft and return by the same route – albeit in reverse order – and once again wallow in the luxury of Sydney Harbour at night.

In a previous entry (Circular Quay, Sydney) I wrote: “I never thought I’d say this, but I think the area around Circular Quay is as vibrant, exciting, and involving as any similar part of New York City (where I spent two months last year).”

Well, I never thought I’d say this either, but in terms of setting, Sydney Harbour beats Manhattan, hands down. Of course, New York has more skyscrapers, and taller ones than Sydney, but in this case size doesn’t matter.

What Sydney has is one of the most stunningly beautiful natural harbours in the world. Port Jackson (to give Sydney Harbour its official name) is 19 km long with an area of 55 square kilometres. If you were to walk around the perimeter of the harbour you would cover a distance of around 317 kilometres.

For my small investment of $17.00 I saw only a fraction of this vast expanse of water and the beautiful city that has grown up around it, but I loved every minute of it. If you have the time to do as I did, I urge you to spend as much time on the harbour as you can. I guarantee you, you won’t be sorry.

Image: Sydney Ferry, Narrabeen

Photographer: Jim Lesses

In Review: Zapata and the Mexican Revolution

~ Emiliano Zapata Salazar (August 8, 1879 – April 10, 1919) was a leading figure in the Mexican Revolution, which broke out in 1910, and which was initially directed against president Porfirio Díaz. He formed and commanded an important revolutionary force, the Liberation Army of the South, during the Mexican Revolution. In this review, Zachary Parker examines John Womack Jr’s. book, Zapata and the Mexican Revolution.

Bringing the Fields to the Federals - Review of Zapata and the Mexican Revolution, by Zachary Parker

The prized possession of Emiliano Zapata was the rights and respect of lands that were the heritage and legacy of the families of Southern Mexico. Why a man with seemingly simple demands must find himself in short time the supreme chief of a revolutionary army, a guerrilla general or even a symbol and figurehead to a movement that would sweep across the nation is an injustice to logic. The story of Zapata's crests and ebbs traverse local politics, insurgencies, and outright warring and international martyrdom.

What becomes evident of the pages of John Womack Jr's dedicated and highly detailed telling of the travails Zapata and his rugged, unremitting rabble is that the scope of the agrarian movement exponentially distends with every snub, assault or closed door in the faces of the poor farmers of the south.

To read of the obscene scenarios of peonage, penury and uniform despotism these people met at the hands of the commercial planters, and the state and federal government at their behest, is to read of fear, shame and guilt.

The bulk of the book puts the reader into the shoes of the Zapatista regulars, the farmers in their whites and sandals. From field to federal district they march, armed first with pleas, then Mausers for their cause. With a cast and crew of citizens (whose names and backgrounds are greatly detailed, making for a substantial gift of memory to keep straight), rallying behind their chief in the struggle to retain their communal lands and livelihood, the reader finds the intrigues and politicking as engrossing as the fiery escapades and raids against the Federales.

Of interest to an observer of the popular movement – especially after Zapata has risen to the patriarchal high of supreme general of the revolutionary army – is the Sissyphusian spiral that the leader and the movement plunges. That Zapata, a man who wanted only reform in the local land policy against those who were gaining while hardship reigned in the lives of the poor farmers, had to assume the role, to bear the target of the oppressing governments was unjust. His single-minded dedication to justice and land rights made him a hero, but this same single-mindedness also exposed him to a life wrested from the very farmland he wished to save.

What John Womack, Jr. offers is more narrative than simply historical in delivery. He makes use of impressive, ample quotes, insights and documents, both official and personal in accounting the social and political struggle that Mexico was home to in the early 20th century. The atrocities committed by every successive dictatorial regime, the waves of oppressive governments and their crushing armies; all is covered in great detail and expression.

The reader may well be swept up in the flurry of events. They may though, also be caught under the weight of the details, names and political entanglements of the revolution. That Womack was able to weave through all the broken alliances, nuances and sheer amount of partisans and players of the era is a testament to his exploratory depths and knowledge of the subject.

What struck me most, and as disheartening in the endeavours of the Zapatista mythology, is that for every length the man and mission moved forward, for every triumph and coup achieved, the displaced force was inexorably replaced by a worse entity.

From the initial ousting of the dictator Diaz came a champion, Francisco Madero. However, when Madero proved to be not only an opponent of change, but an enemy of the revolution, Zapata took the struggle further.

Seeing the devastation and forced deportation of the southern farmers, labour and draft of the people of the south, Zapata then moved against Huerta. Under the banner of the constitution, Carranza brings about nothing less than a continuation of the depravity and evils of a government against the needs of its citizens. Throughout all this turmoil, Zapata never moves from his initial goals of agrarian reform. The hubris shown in the decade of turmoil by the succession of generals, presidents and political bodies is extreme and most unsettling to dissect.

"Rebels of the South, it is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees" sums up, though posthumously uttered, the years of Zapata's revolution. The progress socially, economically and ethically of the common workingmen and poor farmers of Mexico is all that the man sought. Zapata was called to this in his village, took it all the way to the president (all subsequent ones) and paid the ultimate price for it.

Emiliano Zapata took up the challenges of local reform, and brought it to the district, the state, and to the federal level. He was forced by fate to become the champion of Mexico's poor and indigenous citizens. For this he has a place in the pantheon of rebel heroes and martyrs. What he really deserved though, and what he really wanted was to continue farming the traditional lands his family had been farming for generations before him.

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