Man, woman and yogurt.

"You're wrong! I am right!"
"No, I am right and you are wrong!"
"You're wrong! The best way to eat yogurt is with strawberry jam in it."
"No, you're wrong! The best yogurt is with cucumber and tomatoes in it."
"Well, in your culture, you just don't know anything about yogurt."
"No, it's your culture that don't know anything. My culture makes the best yogurt!"

My friend and I had been arguing about what is the best yogurt for too long now. Tired of playing the same broken record, I decided to go on a trip around the world to look for the best yogurt.

I picked up my little bag, put it on my shoulder and I started walking.

In a busy street, I stopped by a dairy shop, bought a cup of yogurt, and sat on some steps. Absorbed in the life passing in front of me, I ate my yogurt with a little wooden spoon. People of all colors walking by, each absorbed in their own activities, I enjoyed my cup, spoon after spoon.

Finishing the yogurt, I got up to drop the little wooden spoon and the empty plastic cup in the garbage. I wandered how diferent this yogurt is from any other yogurt. If the taste was a bit diferent than another yogurt, it was still yogurt in a cup with a spoon.
Looking at the empty cup in the garbage, I thought of culture as a cup of yogurt.

 
I walked the world, tasting all the yogurts I could find.
I discovered many types of yogurts. Some made with goat milk, others with cow milk. Some yogurts were super high tech, made in sterile laboratory vacums, next to particle accelerators. Others were called organic, made with organic milk, organic water, organic cows, organic dirt coming with an organic price. Some were mixed with cereals, chocolate balls, jams, spices or vegetables. Others were simple nature yogurt, with nothing in it.

After a few years of looking for the best yogurt, I got a little confused.
Even where everyone said that they had the best yogurt, all I found was men and women, each with their own taste. Some didn't even like yogurt.
I found individuals, each completely unique. Each person with their own taste, each with their own courage and weaknesses. Most individuals never thought of trying another yogurt than the one made by their mothers. some, more daring, tried other types of yogurts. A few, always a minority, were so creative that they invented their own types of yogurt. They became the artists.

One day, swimming in a smoke ring, I was sitting with a friend, lost in his museum of lost objects, surfing through tv channels.
"It's always a man and a woman that meet. There is nothing else." said my friend.

Thinking about those words, I decided that to end my search for the best yogurt in the world, I had to look for the original yogurt. I wanted to find the yogurt that never changes.

Someone told me that I could find the best yogurt on top of a mountain.
So, I climbed to the top of the mountain. There, I found a group of men involved in what seemed like a very serious debate. As I got closer, I heard that they were arguing about yogurt.

Each man said that their yogurt was better than anyone else's yogurt. They each had a diferent name for their yogurt. Bhrama, TV, Jesus, Mao, Buddha, Lenin, Allah, the Void, CC++, Mickey Mouse, The Great Architect of the Universe, The Yankees and many other strange names. When I asked if they had any yogurt, they each opened a big book and pulled out a yogurt out of the pages. Truly those men must be great if they can make something come out of scribbles on paper. And they each gave me a cup, going on about how their yogurt was the best and the only real yogurt. So, I tasted, cup after cup, I tasted the diferences. I liked all of them, "same same but diferent" I thought.

As they couldn't stop arguing about which yogurt was the best, I got bored. Thinking that even if great magicians, those men were fools to argue about which yogurt was the best.

After a good nap, I left the mad men to their mumbles.

On my way down, I met a yogi. Sitting crossed legged, on some animal skin, wearing jeans and a "same same but diferent" t-shirt. He waved at me to come sit with him.
Happy to take a break from my walk, I sat with pleasure by the side of the fire camp. After a few minutes of silence, he asked if I wanted something to eat.
"If you have any yogurt, I'd love a cup" I replied.
"Go, to the fridge and get 2 cups out of it" he said. He was pointing to a white box a few feet aways. I got up and looking into the white styrofome box, I saw nothing in it. A bit scared to ask the holy man where is the yogurt, I stood there for a moment wandering what to do. I had heard stories about those holy men. He could turn me into a snake, a lightbulb, or even worth things.
"Just say abracadabra 3 times. I know you think that it's stupid. But it is not the words that you say, it is the intention behind them that counts" I heard him say from the fire camp.

Remembering some meditation techniques, as directed, I focused for a minute, visualizing a cup of yogurt, and closing my eyes, I recited the magic mantra:
"Abracadabra dai, abracadabra om, abracadabra dai"
As I opened my eyes, there was a cup of yogurt in the white box. I took it. Not forgetting the yogi, I repeated the mantra, and a new cup appeared.
Satisfied, I came back to the yogi and handed him his cup of yogurt. Handing me a wooden spoon he said:
"Every culture is just a mask behind which people hide. Behind each masks, you will find a child. Culture is like the river that guides the child until it flows back into the great ocean of humanity. No matter of their education, of their background, of their religion, no matter of where they come from, every man and every woman is a star."
By the camp fire, we sat, enjoying our yogurt in silence. The bird songs and the blue sky for a roof.

The cup finished, I thanked him for his hospitality, and got up to walk back to town.
Down the mountain way, I heard the voice of the yogi echoing through the valley.
"Remember my child. It is always a man and a woman that meet. There is nothing else."

At the end of the world, I sat alone by the ocean. In my search for the original yogurt, I had walked through busy cities, climbed the mountains, crossed deserts, and valleys.
I had found nothing but men and women, each as unique as the next one.  Each capable of becoming anything they can dream of. Afraid, alone, weak and powerful, all at the same time. From the same family, or a world apart, each man and woman remains it's own creation. Each of us a product of our culture, each of us influencing everything else around. Even doing nothing, alone somewhere, we are still making yogurt.

Enjoying the sound of the waves, my feet playing with the sand, I listened to the waves. At sunrise, I visualized a cup of yogurt and repeated the magic mantra given by the yogi:
"Abracadabra dai, abracadabra om, abracadabra dai"
A cup appeared. With dawn shining on the horizon, I enjoyed my cup of yogurt.

Once finished, I picked up my little bag, and I started walking.
I had to get back to my friend and share what I had found while looking for the best yogurt in the world.

When I got back to him, we sat down with the ritual chai.
"So, did you find the best yogurt in the world" he asked looking into his cup.
"Nah. I just found a world of people making yogurt."
"So, what's your favorite yogurt?"
"Nature I guess. I like knowing what I eat in my yogurt, so homemade is my favorite. Then sometimes I like to put something in it, depends on the mood."
"So, we were both right and wrong?"
"Yeah."
"Cool, I like to hear that." he said.

In silence, enjoying our chai, we watched life passing by in front of us. Around the world, men and women each playing a star in their own movie. We sat, bathing in the pinks of the sunset light, admiring the light's brush strokes on the painted walls.

"Let's go make some yogurt."
We got up for the only thing that never changes: the moment, always passing and always new...

Yogurt recipe:
Take one spoon of yogurt. Mix with lukewarm milk. Cover, and let stand for the night.
In the morning,enjoy your homemade yogurt. Best eaten shared with all the stars around you.

Photos from 2009 Arambol carnival. Thanks to Alexi from Russia for the pictures.