mermaids, oceans and grannies

Hello lovlies -- have a seat on my blanket. It's wet on the ground today... or so we pretend, because we all know we're inside on my livingroom floor. Our fluffy clouds are made of cardboard, the meadow set is painted, and the rainbow is a light projection. But we are having a good time anyway, because we are warm and snug as a bug in a rug. 

I have always been drawn to the ocean, but I am still a little bit of a landcrab (Swedish expression 'landkrabba', meaning someone who takes their time to enter water, especially when the water is coooold). I grew up in Malmö, a coastal town in southern Sweden, and spent every day by the beach during the summer months, reading, swimming, sunbathing, swimming, chatting with friends, swimming... all day long.

My name in latin means "of the sea" -- Marina. My western astrological sign is Virgo, and she is sometimes depicted with a mermaid's tail. I always wondered about that, for some reason, me being drawn to the ocean... Does that come from having my name, or did I get my name for a reason other than that my mom liked it and the fact that it was the name of a hit song in Europe when I was in her belly? 

The ocean waves have always soothed me. 

A while ago I happened upon the women of Jeju (Cheju, alt. sp.) Island while I was doing some general research on women and shamanism in Korea. The story of these ocean divers, these tough ladies, the haenyeo, spoke directly to my heart.  The other day I saw some photos from a photographic book written by Brenda Paik Sunoo depicting these beauties, and I was delighted that someone had taken the time and effort to document the lives of the haenyeo, the divers, in such a candid and beautiful way. 

Older women have always had a special place in my heart. I remember with fondness a very special trip to Ukraine with Yara Arts Group. We visited with the babushki, the grandmas, in the villages of Kriatchkivka (Poltava) and Svaritsevitchy (Polissia). We sang with them, we sang to them, they sang to us, we cried together, we told each other stories. The visits were so intense and so moving, it is actually hard to put those feelings and experiences down in writing. One day I will write them down, just not today... 

Older women remind me of my own Swedish grandma, whom I loved; who was so strong, so independent and stubborn, a tough cookie indeed. She passed away a few years ago. And they remind me of my Korean grandma, whom I never got to meet. She died when my mother was very young, and then her husband, my grandpa, died shortly after. It was said in the family their bond was so strong they couldn't be apart, so she came and got him. 

I think it was the search for my grandmothers, both my maternal whom I had never met, and my paternal whom had just died, and my mother, who had died some years back, that lead me on this search for the Korean grannies. I was thinking about the significance of the presence of our elders in our lives, especially our grandmothers, and how it will impact me and my girls that they are not around to guide us... The matrilineal commune is very important I have come to realize, and I mourn the loss of mine. But sometimes, just sometimes, I hear my mother talk to me... amid a murmur of ocean waves.

Photo 1 Haenyeo from Jeju Island

Photo 2 Babushki in Kriatchkivka (photo by Akiko Hiroshima)

Photo 3 Babushki in Svaitsevitchy (photo by Akiko Hiroshima)