Willy the "nilly-pilly"

Gather all you dear folks for I will tell you a little secret on how to begin a friendship.

Step1: Volunteer to build tents in a carneval.
Step 2: Climb up a ladder to build roof for a yurt
Step 3: Drop a 3 meter long bamboo stick on the subject's nose and dance away to make up for it later...

Or so how it worked with this wonderful man called Willy, the Nilly Pilly.

Willy Palm. A Swed born and raised in Africa (photo: V-man)

We met in Kultural Karneval on a warm May evening in 2010. I was volunteering in a colorful event of music and colors and was looking forward to meeting neo-hippies that I like to classify myself as. Seeing my giant self, massive muscles and super strength (I am about 5ft 2in and weigh 50kg and have back problems), I was entrusted to pitch big tents for the carnival... of course with help of others. So, here I was putting sticks together to form a yurt that was to be eventually used as a children's corner, a kind-faced, soft spoken gentleman approached to lend me a hand with three meter long sticks. His name was Willy (something that reminded me of the my childhood game Monkey Island with Willy the pirate child who cries a lot but never mind here... lets mosey along). We hummed our tunes, laid the sticks to the roofs until I accidentally dropped one right on his nose and watched it bleed. Ouch!

Fika time with butter and cheese sandwiches... Willy's staple diet

He is one of the closest friends I have in Uppsala. This post is to celebrate his contribution in my life both here on a farm and just life in its own...

V-man's caravan comes to town

Willy building one of our caravans

The very first thing (after the friendship itself, of course) that he did was sell his caravan to V-man last year. It is almost identical to mine in size and shape. It now serves as our library+study+office. Through Willy's help and V-man's non-stop work (I've rarely seen someone more dedicated than him when he's working) they turned that red box into something that now resembles an indian bride; covered in yellow and red.

I like to call this one 'Dulhan' (bride in Urdu/Hindi)

But it's not just the big things but the small ones that made quite a lot of difference the life on the farm. He is a proud owner of assortment of stuff (stuff to build, stuff to furnish with, stuff for office, house, insulation, from wood to stove to glass jars, spoon, and I swear I saw the red cricket ball somewhere as well). He likes to use this huge collection of confusion into projects that make a lot of sense... and are close to his values.

Keeping warm in winter (photo: V-man)

Little old things that mark a memorable experience... The drum you see me getting into can be usd to wash your clothes in, heat water for a bath or dishes. It has a place to light a fire with the wood and a lid to keep water warm and bug/leaf-free.

An outdoor bathtub (photo: Olle Stevenholt, Wooden frame for the tub: V-man, View: Nature)

Have you ever bathed (yup, the whole shebangs with a bubble bath) outside over looking a pasture with a forest in the foreground? Birds singing, wind blowing and few cups of tea! It's worth having cold dark winter

But it's so much more than the stuff he shares with us. His African heart allows him to visit me and his friends, cook for them, houses anyone who wants to sleep at his house boat, money for those rare burglars he's had (you wouldn't believe the stories... he's remarkable). You've got to meet this creative soul to believe he exists. He can be found in celebrations around Uppsala where some creativity is needed, be it Kulturnatten,Kultur Karneval, or just a holiday celebration. If you ever see him, give him a hug. He'd love it.

Unlike the silly phrase I call him (Willy the nilly pilly), this crazy old hippie is a wonderful friend who is nether nilly nor pilly. One needs people who share your values to help you succeed in how you want to live.

So, here is to friendship, love, and community. Hip hip hurray!

Easter flowers that I found in my home... courtesy Willy Palm 

P.S.: No, Willy Palm is not dead or sick or missing that I celebrate here... he is probably fixing a car or welding some metal for a cargo boat somewhere... having a blast or just dancing with someone. When I see him again, I'll tell him you said hello.

Ode to the snowy winter (wonder)land

You're already here... and all the pipes are frozen. The poo bucket is lined with newspaper to make the crap feel cosy in media crap. The window I looked out from is all white and the door is hard to open as the cracks freeze up. The sink leaks into the house as the bottom of my van is icicles and it takes me a while to recognize my bike...

Snow! Yes, I know you're white, and shinny, and sometime you take my breath away. You make the air smell minty clean and add frost to my eyebrows. You make me wear 2 kgs clothes and thanks to you, I spend about 2 minutes layering up before going out even to pee. Which is a lucky feast because if I find myself in a land unploughed, squatting becomes a lightly freezing businesses... After all, burying one's behind in a mound of snow is surely a way for a woman to wish to be born a man... But on happy days, you make my fall deep in it and make snow angels.

Today is not a day to complain, for my uncertain heart finds bliss in a snowflake that lands in my mouth or when it tickles my face.

I wake up to this view every morning and find nature's grace within

Last week, the thermometers were shivering at -22C and the days are ... well, if there are any... are not more than 6 hours long... Somewhere deep down, I have a nagging feeling that Olle might be right when he said, winter is coming soon. Not yet, but soon...

They (Masaru Emoto and others) say every snow crystal is unique, formed through not just mere pressures, temperatures and other physical phenomenas but also the love, care, anger and frustrations formed around it... (http://www.unitedearth.com.au/watercrystals.html), my mind is confounded by the remider each snow flake brings, of the unlimited choices all around me.