unbelievable news story

Tree Man who grew 'roots' offered hope of new life by doctor

Above: Dr Anthony Gaspari believes that he has diagnosed Dede's rare condition and Dede with his teenage daughter. He fears that also his child can be infected.

An Indonesian fisherman who is "half man half tree" has been offered new hope of recovery by an American doctor - and Vitamin A.32-year-old Dede, who lives in a remote village in Indonesia with his two children, feared that he would be killed by the tree-like growths that cover his body.

Known locally as 'Tree Man' his condition has baffled local doctors for 20 years.He has root like structures growing out of his body - branches that can grow up to 5cm a year and which protrude from his hands and feet, and welts covering his whole body.

In an attempt to earn a living to support his family, he is part of a circus troupe, displaying his Tree Man limbs along with others afflicted with skin deformities in 'freak' shows.The former fisherman was the subject of a documentary "Half Man Half Tree", part of the "My Shocking Story" series on Discovery Channel TV.Dede's story began when wart-like "roots" started growing out of his arms and feet after he cut his knee in a teenage accident.

The medical world was completely baffled.The welts spread rapidly across his body and soon he was not able to carry out ordinary household tasks.Dede was sacked from his job and deserted by his wife. He has been raising two children, now in their late teens, in poverty.

He is resigned to the fact that local doctors have no cure for his condition.

To try to support his family he even joined a local "freak show", parading in front of a paying audience along with victims of other peculiar diseases.While he has the support of his extended family, he has frequently been a target of ridicule and abuse in rural fishing village where he lives.

But now new hope has emerged for Dede after an American dermatology expert flew out to his home village south of the capital Jakarta.Dr. Anthony Gaspari of the University of Maryland claims to have identified Dede's condition, and has proposed a treatment that could completely change his life.Following the testing of samples of the lesions and Dede's blood, Dr. Gaspari says his condition is caused by the Human Papilloma Virus (HPV).

This is a fairly common infection that usually causes small warts to develop on sufferers.Dede's problem is that he has a rare genetic fault that impedes his immune system. This means his body is unable to contain the warts.

According to Dr. Gaspari, the virus was able to "hijack the cellular machinery of his skin cells", instructing them to produce huge amounts of the substance that caused the tree-like growths known as "cutaneous horns" on both his hands and feet.The doctor became involved in the case through the Discovery Channel documentary, and he is convinced that Dede's condition can be largely cleared up by a daily doses of a synthetic form of Vitamin A, which has been demonstrated to stop the growth of warts in severe cases of HPV.Dr. Gaspari said that Dede's warts should reduce in size to the point where he can use his hands.

He said he had never seen anything like this in his entire career.- December 24, 2007.

http://www.discoverychannel.co.uk/web/my-shocking-story/?bcpid=1909907058&bclid=1906883101&bctid=1834284161

Ruth (my grandma) married a man her father despised. Her husband died young. Ruth asked to come home.“If you take off the ring,” Papa said. But the ring was stuck. He filed it off, down to the bone. She always had that scar: on her hand, in her heart.

I was finally leaving Sarajevo, the country in which I was born. I had nobody to say goodbye to or to suffer for, I was not even crying. Strangely, I felt a growing happiness and soon I will be far, far away from the emptiness that I once called home.
Aghast, I stared at the disaster in front of me. How could this happen? I planned so carefully. The party guests arrived in good cheer, The food emerged from ovens and fridges looking delectable and festive. I just forgot to put the snake away. Oh well, one less lap dog.


She always said she would escape someday. But we didn’t believe her. She was always a dreamer, staring out the window, waiting for her prince to rescue her. But we lived our lives, breathing, and focusing. We didn’t realize how desperate she was until she ran away with the hippies.

I posted for 50saga because I like them all! Expecially the last one!!!!

Short story by Bruce Holland

The Djinn Who Lives Between Night and Day
by Bruce Holland Rogers

The djinn Al-faq lived in the crack between night and day. He rarely ventured out into the worlds of his fellow djinn, much less into the world of mortal men.
No one but God and Al-faq himself knew whether or not he was a faithful djinn, so the obedient sprits and disobedient alike thought of him as one of their own.
Djinn of both kinds visited Al-faq to tell him their stories.
Tayab, the djinn of ashes, came to the crack between night and day. Laughing, he called out, "Cousin! I have such a story to tell you!"
"What have you done now, Tayab?"
The djinn of ashes only laughed some more, so Al-faq said, "Well, come in, cousin, and have some tea. You must tell me your tale from the beginning."
When the tea was brewed, Tayab said, "Do you know the people of the red desert? The ones who live along the river?"
Al-faq gave no answer but nodded for Tayab to continue.
"The plague came to them," said the djinn of ashes. "Every house had its dead. You never heard such wailing! That was what drew me, cousin. The anguish of the living. All those lamentations carried on the wind...I know an opportunity when I hear one!"
Al-faq said, "Go on."
"From one house, I heard shrieks more terrible than all the rest. There a woman was tearing at her clothes, pulling out her hair. Her husband tried to hold her hands at her sides. He was crying, too, but not like her. His face was wet, but he was silent. Her arms and his were bloodied where she had scratched them. And her keening! Oh, I have seldom heard grief like hers. It was delicious," Tayab said, "because I was sure I could make something of it."
"Some mischief," said Al-faq. He sipped his tea.
"Better than mere mischief," said Tayab. "Now, listen. I sniffed around their house, and in seven places I found the shadow of the dark angel. Seven times during the plague he had entered and taken a soul. Children, I guessed. This woman had borne seven children, and now all of them were dead. When she was too spent to cry out, she whispered their names." He told Al-faq what the names of the children had been. "Her husband tried to comfort her. Useless. He said her name, and she would not answer. When he tried to meet her gaze, she turned away."
"His grief must have been as great."
"Perhaps, perhaps. Who can tell when they aren't loud like her, when they don't rend their clothes? So I waited until he was asleep. Her eyes were still wide open, though it was too dark for her to see. I knelt over her and I whispered, 'Mortal woman, I am the angel of the gate, and I have heard your prayers.'"
"The angel of the gate?" said Al-faq.
"It's nothing. I made it up. But I said to her, 'I will return your children to life if you will but keep faith with me.'"
"And if an angel hears of this?"
"But I didn't take the name of any angel, cousin. Didn't I just say that I made it up? I said to the woman, 'Get up. Go out. Walk west. Go until you can go no farther. I will give you a sign that your children have returned, but you must stay there by the sea, alone, with nothing. You must never speak again. You must never seek your children, for if you find one then all seven must die.'"
"And she agreed to this bargain?"
"She did! She got up without waking her husband. She took only the clothes she wore, and she walked! Day and night she walked! Out of the desert and over the mountains, all the way to the sea!"
"And you? Did you return her children to life?"
Tayab laughed. "Return them to life?" He held his sides and laughed some more. "Well, I did what I could, cousin. I did all that it was in my power to do. I came to her in the night and told her to look to the eastern sky. Stars fell from the heavens, and as each one fell, I gave it the name of one of her children."
"She believed you."
"Far better than believed me, cousin, and that is the sugar in the tea! I left her. And when I returned the next night, there she was within sight of the waves, sheltering in a cave in the cliffs! I said, 'Now, listen, mortal woman. I am no angel. I am a djinn. As for you, I have never met a greater fool, for I can no more restore your children to life that I can make the sun rise in the west. You don't need to stay here and starve beside the sea. Go home, now. Go home!'"
"And did she?"
"That's the wonder!" The djinn of ashes laughed once more. "She would not answer me, for I had told her that she must not speak. And she would not believe me, for I had told her that she must keep faith with the angel of the gate. So there she stayed, wordless, friendless, with only a cave for shelter, steady in her faith in a divine servant that does not exist!"
"But you exist, cousin."
"I do, to be sure," said Tayab with a grin.
"And did she starve?"
"Villagers by the sea found her. They bring her food. They think she is a holy woman." He laughed again.
"And what of her husband?"
"That's not my story, cousin. He still lives, I suppose, if he has not died yet."
"I wonder about him."
Tayab waved the thought away. "But what do you think? I took everything from her, even more than I intended! And now even if I try to return what I stole, she won't take it! Have you ever heard of thievery such as mine?"
Al-faq stroked his face with his long fingers and gave no answer. Perhaps Tayab expected none.
When the djinn of ashes had gone, Al-faq left his home in the crack between night and day. He went to the world of mortal men. It took him a long time to find the red desert and even longer to find the house with seven now fading shadows. The fields next to the house was overgrown. The man who lived there was hollow-eyed and thin.
Al-faq waited for nightfall. When at last the man fell into his bed, he moaned his wife's name. Al-faq leaned close in the darkness and said, "'Mortal man, I am the angel of the gate, and I have heard your prayers. As you feared, your wife, like your children, is dead. I will return them all to life if you will but keep faith with me."
"Yes?" said the man. "You can do this?"
"Get up," said Al-faq. "Go out. Walk south. Walk until you can go no farther. I will give you a sign that your wife and children have returned to life, but you must stay there by the sea, alone, with nothing. You must never speak again. You must never seek the ones you love, for if you find one, then all eight must die."
The man got up. He threw on his clothes. He took up his walking stick and set out at once. Through the night he walked. He walked through the next day. In time, he crossed the desert. In time, he crossed the plains. Al-faq, invisible, came behind him. When the man had walked all the way to the sea, the djinn waited for nightfall and then showed him eight falling stars in the northern sky. To each falling star, Al-faq gave a name.
"Remember," said the djinn. "Never speak. Never look for them."
The man's face was wet with tears. He nodded.
"Keep faith with me always, no matter what."
The man nodded again and smiled wearily. He made a gesture of gratitude, of blessing.
"No, do not bless me," said Al-faq. "I am not worthy."
At the nearest village, the djinn went from house to house and whispered in the ears of many sleepers: "There is a holy man beside the sea. Find him. Care for him."
Then the djinn Al-faq, who perhaps is a faithful djinn and perhaps is not, returned to the crack between night and day. And if the world has not yet ended, he lives there still.

Report on a visit

To visit the south of Portugal by car is fantastic and also economical, but probably it is not the best choice to do it in April. In fact one of the most attractive things of the Algarve are the beaches and with a such unstable weather, as the type I found during those Easter holidays, it was impossible to enjoy the landscape completely. The funniest thing was that while driving it was hot with a brilliant sun in a limpid blue sky, every times we got out of the car it began to rain.
Here in Portugal to rent a car is very cheap: for six days it will cost 180€. If you plan to leave with some friends, for example five, it is only 36€ each. If you don't find a place to sleep you can also sleep in the car, as we did the first night, but five people in the same vehicle is horrific! The following morning I woke up totally numb. In addition, there are places in Alentejo and Algarve that are reachable only with the car, as for example the natural reserve of Arrabida. It is not far from Lisbon, only half an hour by car.
It was precisely this place, the first stage of the journey along the Portugal coast: the beach of Portinho da Arrabida. It is completely surrounded by the natural reserve, there are only three houses and nothing else. It is a real paradise!
Another place like this is the peninsula of Troy, also this beach is a protected area. Now it is completely unexploited in fact if you do a morning walk on the beach you can find living starfish. My friends and I saved a lot of them trapped in the sand because of the low tide. In fact they arrive on the shore with the high tide and the following morning with the low tide they can't reach the water and die. So during your walk on the beach you can collect a lot of dried starfish. Unfortunately, now a resort is under construction and within one year the area will be completely put upside down.
However, the best reef of all was the one of Porto Covo: it seems a cross between an Irish cliff and a Californian beach. Really impressive! It is a perfect place to do some aquatic sports such as Kite Surfing, Surfing and Water Skiing.
During a journey like this one you meet a lot of curious characters. For example in Albufeira, a little tourist city near Faro, we met a very strange man. He was Portuguese but he spoke a perfect Italian with a typical accent of the south, because he worked with an Italian man of Naples. It was really strange but funny to hear him speaking. When he discovered that we didn't have a place to sleep he accompanied us to an hotel and thanks to him we had a discount of 30%. He was our guide in the city which is particularly beautiful in the evening. There are a lot of bars, small pubs with live music etc...but the beach is horrible with some concrete buildings that ruin the beauty of the historic centre.
The trip was supposed to end in Vila Real de Santo Antonio, the town on the mouth of the river Guadiana, at the border with Spain. But at the very last moment we decided to cross the border and leap to Seville. It was not so easy to find a hostel to spend there the last night of our journey but at least we succeeded, even if we had to share the rooms with other people we didn't know! Seville is really beautiful but the traffic is the worst thing: all the people use the turn signal but instead of waiting their turn they simply change lane....we risked an accident a lot of times!
You should definitely try this kind of journey!

Valentina Pecori

A fifty word saga. Difficult? Yes. Impossible? I don’t think so.
I typed, backspaced, counted, recounted, and typed some more. It’s even tougher than I had expected. Too much pressure! I can’t do this! Wait, just a few words more, a little more...voila! I knew I could do it!

Short story

#

I used to live on Park Avenue; now I'm on a Chinese block in the Lower East Side. I shop at the Hong Kong Market and am the only gweilo there. I buy dumplings, hargow. I think everyone is laughing at me, but I don't care. This is my home now.

Report on a visit: Sintra

Why Sintra is known all over the world? Why who visit Lisbon have to see this small town built in the western point of the Lisbon’s region? It is easy to answer! Sintra is fantastic and I have never known anyone who didn’t love it.
Its castles, its views over the sea ... it is unique.

During the Easter holidays my brother came to see me. Some days before he had fallen in Love with Sintra’s castles just by watching them on tv and in particular with the Quinta da Regaleira. In a sunny but windy morning, we took the train in Entrecampos’ station and 40 minutes later we were there. My brother could not believe on his eyes. Already in the station we could see, on the top of the mountains, two castels: the Palacio da Pena and the Castelo dos Mouros.

After about twenty minutes of walk in the city center, at the end of a long street a great show opened in front of us: the Quinta da Regaleira. This was the summer residence of the Carvalho Monteiro family and it was built in the neo- manueline style. We decided to visit first the palace and try to breathe the climate of that time. The most sensational room in the palace was on the second floor: the library. In the room the lights were turned off and, thanks to a particular game of mirrors, it seemed suspended in air. We were afraid to cross it; we thought that the floor could not hold our weight.


However, the most wonderful thing of the palace was the park. We had never seen anything so strange. The guide told us that the garden was the image of the Cosmos and for this reason was adorned with statues of classical Gods such as Orpheus, Venus, Flora and others. All the park was crossed by underground tunnels conflating in ponds. Thought one of them we arrived at something that had, on television, caught the attention of my brother: a underground tower. This was a tower accessible by a monumental spiral stairway. It had to create a link between the terrestrial and the hell worlds. While the guide explained, I returned with the mind on the Divine Comedy by Dante and the correlation between the three worlds after death.

Even if Italy is full of artistic beauty we had never seen anything so sensational. The environment could revive the mystical atmosphere of that place. Unfortunately, in the afternoon began to rain and it was useless to visit another castle. We decided to return to Lisbon hoping to visit sooner the other castles.

This short article is certainly not sufficient to describe the emotions that we fell during that visit but I hope they, at least, managed to capture your curiosity.
Sintra is impossible to describe, you have to see it to understand.

The sound of a silent fight


It was six o’clock when Mr and Mrs Dupont faked to sleep. The day before Mr Dupont had told his wife they must move into Ivory Coast because the banana company, in which he worked, was relocated. Mrs Dupont had answered that she did not want to leave her family and her friends. But he did not react at all as if the decision was already made.

Actually Mrs Dupont was a lonely woman and did not care about leaving France but she did not want to live with black people. Effectively she was racist but refused to admit it. After these few words, they did not say a word during the whole evening and even not during the night…

When the alarm clock beeped at 7 o’clock, Mrs Dupont jumped up without any look towards her husband. She opened the window and heard the wind, which rustled in the trees. She asked herself if there was as much wind in Ivory Coast. She felt sad. Then, she went to the bathroom to take a shower. When she started to undress, she heard a bee buzzing and thought that she would get used to the insects presence in Ivory Coast. This morning of winter, Mrs Dupont’s mood was getting worse and worse.

Furthermore, behind the creaking door of the bathroom, she could see her husband sleeping deeply. Why did she accept everything without any rebellion? Finally, Mr Dupont opened the eyes and said : « How are you this morning, my dear ? ». He seemed to have completely forgotten what happened the day before. Mrs Dupont tried to focus on the tingle of her bracelets not to be angry. But Mr Dupont did not take into account her behaviour, stood up and took his coins, which jingled with each other. Mrs Dupont was now angry and started to fulminate against her hausband. His absence of reaction was simply unbearable. She could not bear it anymore. She stared at him and said her first words of the day but although her last words to her hausband: « I won’t live with indigenous people ! ». She took her coat and banged the main door of their charming cottage.




When I was writting this story, I thought about this song I love. Enjoy it !


Paul McCartney

Ebony and Ivory
Live together in perfect harmony
Side by side on my piano
Keyboard, Oh Lord, Why don't we?

We all know that people are the same where ever we go
That is good and bad in ev'ryone,
We learn to live, we learn to give
Each other what we need to survive together alive

Ebony and Ivory
Live together in perfect harmony
Side by side on my piano
Keyboard, Oh Lord, Why don't we?

Ebony, Ivory living in perfect harmony
Ebony, Ivory, Ooh

We all know that people are the same where ever we go
That is good and bad in ev'ryone,
We learn to live, we learn to give
Each other what we need to survive together alive

Ebony, Ivory living in perfect harmony (repeat and fade)

Are you totally fond of chocolate ?


Do you first think about eating chocolate when you’re hungry ? Is it impossible for you not to eat chocolate during one whole day ? Is it extremely difficult for you not to eat all your christmas chocolates before the new year ? Do you often dream of chocolates ?

If you answered « yes » to any of the above questions, then there are many chances that you are a chocoholic. A chocoholic can be defined as someone who is dependent on eating all different kinds of chocolate. The main symptoms are a compulsion to eat everything which is made up of chocolate, which takes precedence over any other food. A chocoholic can suffer from withdrawal symptoms if there isn’t any possibility to eat chocolate which leads to bad mood, irritability and even nastiness. Indeed, in some extreme cases, the chocoholic can steal chocolate from anyone who has some. Moreover, if the chocoholic refuses to eat anything else than chocolate, he can suffer from trembling due to the lack of sugar. The root of the problem, as with many addictions, is the desire to escape from its problems, such as stress, lonelyness and anxiety. The first consequence of this problem can be to put on much weight at the point to suffer from obesity. So the chocoholic stays at home trying to hide his addiction from others and enters into a vicious circle : the more he feels lonely, the more he eats chocolate and doesn’t want to go out…


So what can you do if you think you may be a chocoholic ? Be courageous and accept to be confronted with others : go out for a walk, phone your friends and your family. Try not to focus on the chocolate. That is to say don’t remove completely the chocolate because you risk to be terribly frustrated. But set yourself a target : 2 pieces of chocolate per day and not more ! Help yourself not buying more than one chocolate bar per week. Above all, the key is to have the support of people you care. Communicate with them ! Explain them that you suffer from chocolate dependence : recognize it ! Tell them you need to be encouraged and tell them not to offer you chocolate anymore under the pretext you could die for it ! ! !



salon du chocolat 2008 in Paris

OSMIZA ADDICT

Do you spend over two or three days a week in the osmiza? When do you book for a dinner for only five or six people you always find out that other twenty people joined the company? Do you frequently can't stand after a dinner there? Have you ever vomited in the field around it? Have you ever received a serenade by an old drunk man?

If the answer to all these questions is yes, you officially are an "Osmiza Addict"! An Osmiza addict is someone who can't resist the urge to go to an Osmiza.

For all those who are not italian an Osmiza is a tipical kind of tavern, widespread expecially in the north-east of Italy. It is called also Frasca.In this place you can eat and get drunk with a maximum of 5 euros. The Osmiza represents the old Italy, the old meeting-places. In fact when you go there you find expecially old people.

You cannot refuse an invitation if someone is planning a dinner there! You have to go....you want to go.....you can't manage to say no, even if you have an exam the following morning!!!!!

The problem is that an Osmiza can cause dependence because of the home-wine

and the food produced by the owners themselves!

Every times you go there you can't avoid to drink and eat untill you are more then full! You have to pay attention to go to the Osmiza more than 3 times a week or the path to obesity will be really short!

Also for the old people who go there it is really dangerous because they start drining at 3h or 4h pm untill midnight when it closes.

It is impossible for an Osmiza addict to recover completely, wherever you go you look for a place like that but any other place is comparable to it. For all these reasons, as it is impossible trying not to go there, try to go always with a lot of friends: there will be at least one of them who can take you home if you are not able to. More, try not to eat a lot during the day so you can eat everything you want at dinner!

SPRITZ ADDICT

Do you meet every day your friends at 5 o’ clock for the “Spritz Hour”? Can’t you resist drinking less than 1 Spritz a day? When you see an Aperol bottle do you think immediately –SPRITTZZZZ-? Do you return every day for dinner at home a little bit drunk after the “Spritz hour”?

If you answered “YES” to any of these questions you are, without any doubt, a Spritz Addict!! A Spritz Addict is someone who can’t resist at the Spritz temptation. But maybe, if you are not Italian, you are asking yourself what is this strange thing with this strange name. The Spritz is a typical Italian drink, common, above all, in the north regions. It is made by Prosecco (an Italian wine), Aperol and a slice of orange. However in Italy it isn’t only a drink, it is a tradition among the young generations. At 5 or 6 o’clock, every day, the meeting point is the most famous bar of your city. If you are working, studying or doing something else you have to stop your activity and join your friends. Chips, oliveS, small pizza’s slices, small sandwiches (in Italian “tramezzini”, is a little bit different from a sandwich)…all these things are part of the “Spritz hour”.

Which is the problem? Spritz is an alcoholic drink and like all the other alcoholic drinks can cause dependence. The last step of this dependence is: the Alcoholism. A lot of mortal accidents can result from the big quantity of alcohol in the blood, and when someone has to drive to go at home… the damage is done!!! Attention also to your digestive apparatus, alcohol is not a good thing. But alcohol isn’t the only problem. The food is full of kalories and, eaten every day, from the young age (13 years old) leads to obesity in the adults.

For all these reasons be careful with the Spritz: It is not the same thing as drink water. You can meet, anyhow, your friends just to drink a coffee, a lemonade or a coca; it is better and less dangerous. If you can’t resist to the Spritz temptation, don’t drive, you could cause problems also to other people. And the last thing is: if you would like an athletic body to show on the beaches, try to avoid the fat foods and wait your healthy domestic dinner to eat.