Story telling hubs-people and place

So easing back into normal life here after the high of travelling, one of the most important things I have done this week is commission our web guys to put together a prototype for establishing online city/nation hubs for Stories from the Street. So over the next few months if you would like to have a go at running a hub for your village, town, city or nation then its going to be completely possible, very easy and you don’t even have to leave your home to do it!.

I love this concept because it keeps the story telling local and the connection strong between people and place. So it might be, in time to come, you would be able to find a library of true life stories from anywhere in the UK and eventually, why not….yes the world! That would be completely amazing.

However, that is many steps off. To establish our first hubs, all we need are story lovers, like you possibly, who might want to have a go. You can then begin to promote your city hub round your network both on line and off line. How you do that is your choice; you can put as much or as little effort into it as fits with your circumstances.

What would it look like? Well, a personalised home page tailored to where you live, so featuring photos etc that make a strong local connection. Then all the facilities of the web site and the stories library, except your hub would be exclusively for those who live where you live.

Does that connect with anyone? Costings are still being worked through, but we reckon around £600 per hub to set it up, or £50 a month over a year would cover costs. Then off you go! You can have the hub within a couple of months of emailing me, even if payment is only a couple of stages in.

A completely unique on line tool tailored to the place you connect with most, and call home. And yes, it could either work with just you on your own, or with a small group of friends.

So Stories from the Street Little Pocklington, Newbury, Edinburgh, Wales, New York, Arabia to Australia and absolutely anywhere-not matter how small or large!. Story telling through photography, audio, video, and of course in words.

So any thoughts? Is this a goer? Post a comment below or email me steve@storiesfromthestreet.com No web experience needed. If I can do this anyone can!

First three to sign up get the hub for £200 less.

It’s the week end, and I have finally landed!

Global fault lines and moments of kindness

In the early days of walking to Rome we journeyed through Grenwich and the Meridian time line; the time line of British imperialism that was calling the world to get into step with the time line of British global expansionism. Across the channel we walked into the riots of 2005 that ripped France asunder, the anger of the marginalised North African population spilling over onto the streets.

Many miles further on we found ourselves in Northern Greece and the monasteries of the Greek and Eastern Orthodox Church. There the chasm between Rome and Istanbul opened wide before our eyes, the 6th century schism as huge and vast now as it was then.

Walking across the Bosporus into Asian Turkey we encountered the fault line of the Armenian genocide, manifesting strongly in our own journey as we fell victims to a roadside robbery. Then walking through the West Bank we touched the pain of the modern day wound that is wide and deep between Jew and Arab.

So our journey concluded six days ago in a stinking Shiite fish market on the Persian Gulf, sitting at the foot of the Sunni/Shiite fault line that rips its way north through Iraq and beyond. Global fault lines spilling their guts out before us, the pain and festering sores there for all to see.

Yet these poignant moments were not without hope. Indeed our safe passage through these lands, like something out of Lord of the Rings, has communicated so much to us. Indeed, the parting words that echoed round our heads as we left a small cafe next to the fish market were “welcome” and “come back again.” In the West Bank we would never have made it through without one Palestinian taxi driver who day after day ferried our team of 18 back and forth, letting anyone know who was ready to pick up a stone that we had come in peace.

In Turkey I will never forget the people who went out of there way to help us when we got lost in the big cities, or the farmer, who gave us carrots when he came upon us eating our lunch.

Little acts of kindness, wonderfully capped by the warm and deep Indian river that we jumped into in Arabia. And the Arab teenagers we shared a few laughs with on the streets of one city, pictured here.

Global fault lines, where east meets west, yet not without moments of tenderness and simple acts of friendship. The memories of such moments outlast so many others.

Where east meets west

Over the years of walking I have found myself in San Francisco; the edge of the western world, the place where west and east collide. I have stood on the Bosporus that Istanbul sits either side, one half in Europe the other in Asia. And on the eastern edge of Saudi Arabia we hit the fault line that separates the largely Sunni Muslims to the west from the Shiites to the east, running right up through Iraq and the River Euphrates.

Where west meets east, the point where tea and coffee collide, according to Starbucks (see yesterdays post).  Standing on that fault line on the Persian Gulf there is no doubt that I am drawn east by the story line of my own family and my two adopted daughters from China. The power of adoption is huge in the orphaned lands that imperialism has created. The trade routes are pulling strongly also. The power of the pen and and the power of story coming together. Wow, that’s worth a journey or two. However there is another pathway that calls. Let me explain.

In the broadest of terms there are several differences between the culture of the west and that of the east. I have listed a few below. I owe my friend Paul for much of this though he would be the first to say that these are hugely incomplete and, as I have already said, inevitably, generalisations.

• The west is preoccupied by the aspirations of the individual. The east speaks the language of community.
• The west is future orientated, with targets and goals ever before us. The east however is preoccupied more with the past than the future. Ancestral worship is strong and the power of the family line very real.
• The west is focussed on task. The east is more focused on relationship.
• The west is focused on right and wrong. The east speaks the language of honour and shame. Family honour is everything in many eastern cultures.

There are other imbalances which I am sure could be identified. This journey therefore, from the UK into the Middle East,  has become not just a great adventure but a wonderful opportunity to draw through a story that is shaped by both east and west, heart and head, left and right.

Does that make sense? Doesn’t matter if not. It has taken me several thousand miles to understand these matters, and I still love my coffee too much!

Okay, off for a cup of tea:)

Adventures in tea and coffee

I have no idea what your image of us in Saudi Arabia entails. Epic walks across the desert or secretive and furtive journeys from hide out to hide out. The reality, well one big adventure in tea and coffee!

Yes never a day went by………… sorry, let me re-phrase that; never an hour went by without sitting down round a table on some back street somewhere in one city or another, and tasting the wonder of Indian tea or rich dark coffee.

Yet it was often at such moments that understanding came as to the events of that day. The moments of intimate friendship as like a band of brothers we chewed over the the wonder of the journey.

It should not be a surprise therefore that we arrived at the Persian Gulf just as Starbucks announced the news that from this moment onwards they would promote tea as much as they promote coffee, starting this week in China. Indeed,with no pre planning our drop off point from the taxi turned out to be a Starbucks, bang next door to a chinese restaurant! Crazy.

Why the hysteria? Well when you have walked and journeyed your way the best part of several thousand miles it pays to heed the hints on the way that somehow this journey makes sense. Tea is the drink of the east and coffee, predominantly the drink of the west. Starbucks was saying the two need to come into balance because the east is emerging strongly in the psyche of the world.

That’s what we are saying also. So more to adventures in tea and coffee. Yes, more slobbing out and less striding forth!

And if you haven’t a clue what I am on about then will unpack this more tomorrow. For now all you coffee addicts, go and shoot up on a nice cup of tea. You haven’t got time? Sorry, not acceptable. You cannot afford not to have time. There might be an adventure waiting for you!

Following the pen ink trail

So this crazy pen ink trial began back in 2006 in the northern city of Preston ( Need to read yesterdays post to understand this).

Since then, having helped collate a few books of true life stories over these last four years, launching Sfts in the process, I end up on a journey through the Souks of  Arabia. There, looking for stories to rise from those ancient trade routes I am alongside an Indian merchant with a background in printing and a product he is looking to see get into the hands of millions of people across these lands-yes a pen!

So what was the bread crumb trail is now the pen ink trail. It should not surprise anyone who has tracked with our journey east to know that, whilst sitting in the airport lounge waiting for our flight home from Arabia,we discover that the boxes my friend Solomon is using to package his pens are made in………yes you have guessed it-Iran! The next country on our journey east and the one we overlooked from the Persian Gulf.

You could not make this stuff up!

So it would seem the bread crumb trail has now become the pen ink trail, and it may well be leading to the Islamic Republic of Iran. Time will tell, but years on the road learning to follow the signposts of life cause me to ponder such matters. When dealing with such nations lets be honest, our safety could depend on moments like these.

Why do I tell this story? Simply because in the journey of your life and mine  there is a deep language of the land that we can begin to learn, as indeed those most connected to the land like the Aborigines and the first Red Indians fully understand. Indeed the wild wanderer of biblical days, Paul, knew this too when he spoke of the groans of creation in his letter to the church in Rome.

So I am home from Arabia and already the demands and delights of life press in, but, like a dog that’s caught the scent I know we have picked up a fresh trail.