(wo)man of many nations

Southern California Proposes Secession

2011-07-14T02:24:00.001-07:00

Souther California wants to secede from the rest of the state.

See the article in the LA Times here.

The state would be more populous than Pennsylvania and Illinois!

Just when I thought my studies secession were getting interesting, it pops up in my own country!

Failing Parallel Systems: Serbia Can't Afford Kosovo

2011-07-10T10:46:00.001-07:00

For the past 12 years, driving through many Serbian enclaves in Kosovo one would see an abundance of people sitting as "security guards" at banks, post offices, and courts. However, none of these banks, post offices, or courts were run by Kosovo. Rather they were part of a parallel system funded by Belgrade. The many people employed there were also funded by Belgrade. For 12 years, many of these Serbs in Kosovo collected a check from Belgrade to resist assimilation into the Kosovo state system, or to even open businesses, go to Kosovo run schools, or take advantage of other benefits from the international community that was aligned with Kosovo.

For many years, these Serbs were under the patronage of Belgrade, collecting checks. That said, there were other checks from other internationals, and from Kosovo. Lets just say, there was money from different people at different times.

This kind of apathy and stagnation trickled down to the kids in the population, as described by my friend from Belgrade working there with the international community (excuse the vagueness, I just don't want to "expose" him). When the system was such that you could collect a check, very few youngsters made an effort to take advantage of opportunities within Kosovo or beyond.

This same friend mentioned before, working with Serbian IDPs in an enclave here, then told me something crazy. He could not get into his office because of very large protests of Serbians. He inquired into what was happening.

Belgrade had cut funding. They could not afford to pay for the six security guards at the post office in this parallel system. With economic troubles, it just was unfeasible to keep the remnants of this protest against Kosovo alive. At a certain point dollars speak louder than nationalism.

To boot, no one really reported this on the news; neither in Kosovo, nor Serbia, nor the English sources. Naturally, there is a strategic interest to not report this. Serbia doesn't want to seem like it is giving up on Kosovo and Kosovo often times doesn't want to admit this parallel system.

Naturally, all of this information is from word of mouth and from spending time with Serbian IDPs in this country. However, this is a critical sign at a critical moment in Kosovo. Serbia can't afford Kosovo anymore. There are bigger fish (like EU membership) to fry. With money leaving from many of the serial donors of days past, Kosovo could be facing a lot of civil unrest from the youth and now, even from the old who received those checks. Time is ticking in Kosovo.

Congrats South Sudan: Reflections from Kosovo, the 2nd Youngest

2011-07-09T17:09:00.000-07:00

Last night, I sat in the NATO military base in Kosovo, Film City. With the American and Portuguese troops, I had delicious BBQ, sang 50s songs, and joked about riding a tank with them that is still on the base. These troops were still getting combat pay, meaning to say that they get the same pay in Afghanistan and Kosovo if they are the same rank. We drank to the fact that NATO will never leave in 100 years (the hope of many here) and that Kosovo was no longer the youngest country in the world.

Today, at a constitutional law conference designed in part by USAID to consult on amending the articles of the constitution dealing presidential elections, revamping the presidency (possibly making changes from vote by parliament to direct vote), and rethinking presidential powers. Considering 2/3 presidents in Kosovo have violated the constitution, serious problems exist in both the constitutional court and very possibly the constitution itself. Anyways, one person with a kind of melancholy announced, "KOSOVO IS NO LONGER THE YOUNGEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD."

The room was quiet for a moment. Suddenly constitutional reform was not as much an adventure of a new nation, but a task and duty that had to be readjusted because of failure. Naturally Kosovo is still new born, but the branding of "THE YOUNGEST" is not there. There was a lot of work to do, a lot of laws to change, a lot of rewriting of constitutions, a lot of corruption to kick, and a lot of mandates to meet.

Reflecting on all of these things, I realize that the term "STATE-BUILDING" is perhaps more of a vogue thing in Political Science terms; it sounds nice and when you look from afar, it certainly does seem like "building" a state. It was very attractive for a while until I think many realized, on the ground and not from afar (with the challenges--sometimes failures--in Kosovo, Iraq, Afghanistan, Bosnia, etc.) that you don't go in and "BUILD" anything. I argue the better term is "TRANSITIONING" not so much building. "STATE-BUILDING" seems vain, imperialistic even as a term. Frustrating at times. Perhaps some think it is like building a country in Sid Meiers Civilization. The thought is that "THE PEOPLE" will build this government and state, when in reality power remains in the hands of very few, if not completely foreign individuals. "Building" is one thing. "Getting by" seems more like it. Even just not falling backwards, but moving forwards. With failed missions like the ICO in Kosovo (recently insinuated by many journalists and newspapers as a failed mission), there are a lot of haunting and frustrating things ahead in the future for young states coming out of serious conflict zones.

I think about what is ahead for South Sudan. Secession is easier than building a country. "Getting by" is hard enough. The expectation of international assistance has its own complications as well. While I tend to be happy for South Sudan for its secession (and its recognition, something Kosovo will continue to struggle with), I can't help but think of the challenges of just putting together a decent constitution... and making sure people follow it. Luckily its secession was recognized by Sudan (Serbia still refuses to recognize Kosovo), but challenges still lie ahead. one challenge out of the way...

Kosovo is a lot better than it was 12 years ago, but it has a long way to go and optimism is beyond even waning. While I am happy for South Sudan, I can't help but think about where it may possibly be 5 or 10 years from now.

Liminality: Kosovo in Stages

2011-07-07T04:10:00.000-07:00

Pardon my perhaps "aimless" reflection. Indulge me in this post. I promise some more investigative and interesting posts after this:

A dear friend of mine once describe me as a liminal person: always between one belief, place, status, identity or another one. I would say this may be true, but less because of liminality and more because of my own personal interest in both sides of the same coin.

Perhaps this is what draws me to Kosovo, South Ossetia, Abkhazia, Palestine, Nagorno-Karabagh and many other places that have a liminal status.

The fascinating thing about Kosovo is that I have seen it develop and change in three years now. Someone has joked to me that Kosovo is kind of like Hotel California. You can check in any time you like, but you just can't leave. You can stab it with your steely knives but you just can't kill the beast. Its a kind of place that endlessly has something to change, develop or grow. Because of the general openness of the population here, most things like national politics, information, gossip, networks, and news are in your grasp. Learning about how development, change, transitioning, and growth (or decline) after a high profile war is all at your finger tips here and there is a temptation to continue to watch where it goes.

In any case, I have seen Kosovo on the threshold of many different stages each year. When I first arrived in 2009 for only 4 short days in Kosovo, NATO (KFOR, the Kosovo NATO mission) was just beginning to pull out its street patrols in the capital. I could still see Italian troops in the street, guarding Mother Theresa street. Kosovars, still high from independence were very optimistic; I was, after all, at a youth entrepreneurial conference. Many internationals were very obviously still here. The following year, the first day I touched down in 2010 there was a some several thousand Muslims protesting for the right to wear hijab in school. A stray away from the farm? NATO still patrolled parts like Mitrovica and I witnessed IDPs that still did not have homes. KFOR billboards lined the streets and so did Tony Blair's face!

This year, I had to search for NATO cars and the billboards were not as obvious. Barbed wire still abound, but rusting everywhere, the first thing I see are Muslim protests in the street for the right to mosques. Major mergers in parties had occurred between a very pro-economic reform group and a seemingly anti-internationalist, near anarchist group (that had not been a political party until recently). One politician, recently charged with war crimes, had his party pay for billboards showing their support for him and denouncing any allegation of violent crime. Somehow, things were on a different stage entirely. People were restless. There were recent protests against government corruption as well. That said, the IDPs I had visited, now had houses. Something had developed and grown, though the main street (Mother Theresa) still had not been completed and was the same as it was last year. Kosovo seems to be a place that always changes but always stays the same.

Perhaps there is a constant state of limbo in Kosovo that is of interest to a scholar or journalist. The general openness of all the people here allows you to get a glimpse into everything from pop culture, corruption, islamic fundamentalism, politics, education, and the military. Though now 12 years after the war, Kosovo has a long way to go, but with every year, takes a step towards a new "inbetween." I am fascinated to see its direction and its development and have been honored to watch it.

An Act of Balance: Street Artist Tüfujeger

2011-06-29T00:36:00.000-07:00

Living in a hostel, some pretty diverse types of people run into you. I've met Scottish Red Cross Workers, American English teachers, a Polish couple with a kid who have been on the road for a year, some random Iranians, a Latvian man who is finding himself, and German foresters.

However, meeting the Swiss street artists, Tüfujeger, exposed me to an underground world of street art.

Tüfujeger (his street name) has been on the road for almost a year. Starting in his home of Switzerland, he biked through Austria, Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Albania, Greece, Bulgaria, Turkey and finally Georgia. Never taking planes or buses, he insists on sleeping in his tent and living cheaply. When not biking, he is painting. Check out the website of his work here.

When talking to Tüfujeger, you get a real sense of a man embodying the idea of "Everything in moderation, even moderation." He is truly, as he says, "an act of balance." Having studied Art at University in Switzerland, getting a teaching degree to appease his father, Tüfujeger realized that he was not cut out for galleries or classroom, but rather the more deviant underground world of street art.

Ever since youth, he has been "playing soccer and painting" to fill a need to express himself in a public forum--whether you want to hear/see him or not! He likes going to the streets because its a public space that challenges the right to speech and also what we perceive as acceptable or beautiful. Working both slow and fast, he has trained his body to move with the environment that he paints within, adjusting each work not to some preconceived plan, but to the environment, the stories, and the people in each area. If there is something Tüfujeger does not like, its a white wall. He much prefers stories to layer, to interact with.

While he says he does not like to philosophize about his art, he told me that one should not go into street art with the expectation of analyzing or judging. You should just feel what you see. He told me when writing this blog, "Don't write about me, write about the paintings!" Such a fascinating man deserved some recognition though! That said, his works usually feature twisted figures that interact with the surfaces upon which they are painted. Here, in the hostel courtyard we see a figure with a bottle of chacha, some tomatoes (someone was eating them during this), some dice because of a common game played here, and more. There is something fluid about his thought and work. It may seem deviant and even a little creepy, but there is a flow that makes it beautiful, or at least very much Tüfujeger!

The Autonomous Republic of Adjara

2011-06-21T22:13:00.000-07:00

As I walked past her in Batumi, one woman carrying a shopping bag stopped in front of me and gazed at my tourist map, and then my eyes. The hopeful and excited look on her face said, "THEY'RE HERE!"

This seemed to be the trend during my time in Batumi, a Black Sea-side resort town in the Autonomous Republic of Adjara, the Republic bordering Turkey that is officially part of Georgia. Batumi and Kobuleti, two tourist destination cities on the coast, have been eagerly awaiting tourists from the West for many years, but it really hasn't been until this year that it had any attraction that would bring Western tourists en masse. While investments are rolling in and construction is 24/7, the signs of what Batumi once was are everywhere. The delay in development was not helped in that it was governed by an authoritarian dictator for many years who treated Adjara as his own country--not part of Georgia. It also did not help that for many years before that it was barricaded from the Western world by the Red Wall that was the Soviet Union.

By the looks of Batumi today, you would not guess that even 5 years ago, electricity was rationed off to only a few hours a day and most homes around the city still had straw roofs. Yet, as I was boarding the Mashrutka (minibus) to return to my 8 hour overnight sleeper train (for a trip that would take 3 hours anywhere else) back to Tbilisi, an old Russian man explained all of this to Misha and myself. Batumi had come a long way, and I'll tell you why.

For the longest time, Adjara, like Georgia, had been under Soviet Control. When the fall of the wall came around, a new fellow, Aslan Abashidze, came to power. Because of Georgia's general lack of a strong and cohesive government, and its desire to appease its separatist provinces so long as they stay part of Georgia, Abashidze could rule Adjara as if it were his own country. He collected taxes on the border with Turkey, had a standing militia, and was essentially distinct from Georgia. Naturally Abashidze was not the best ruler (later, he was charged with embezzling over 98 million lari and murdering a civil servant). When the Rose Revolution happened in Georgia, deposing long time leader Shevardnadze and putting in Sakashvili, it wasn't long before the new leader tried to get Adjara under control. Sakashvili eventually got Abashidze to flee to Moscow. While military tensions were high, not a single shot was fired.

So finally, this beach town long a favorite of Soviet tourists could open itself up to the world. The lonely Sheraton there had long been a symbol of the potential for tourism, but it wasn't until this very year for anything substantial to be built, including a new chic Radisson and a Kempinski hotel. Boardwalks, restaurants, attractions, and renovations that make the city look like a tropical, Parisian, St. Petersburg-ian paradise, juxtaposed against the relative poverty surrounding such new buildings make Batumi a very apt location to study budding development in a post-Soviet zone.

Last year when Misha went, most buildings were either mossy unfinished skeletons of a time when development was more prominent and promising.

Today, development is a reality and the skeletons will not be skeletons for long. While most tourists come from Turkey, Iran, Armenia, and Azerbaijan still, there is a slow trickle of French, German, British, and Americans backpacking in.

During the day, an old woman stopped Misha and I--not wanting to give us a homestay surprisingly; she just wanted to know where we were from and it we were enjoying Batumi. When I said I was an American, she blessed me and "spat" on me in that my Big Fat Greek Wedding kind of way. I was welcome in Batumi.

8 Proud Hours in Warsaw

2011-06-11T10:53:00.001-07:00

When I think of Warsaw, I think of something like this (Photos are my own):

After getting off of a rickety Polish airlines flight (LOT)-- (they lost my baggage even before I got on the plane, and just told me so), my suspicions were confirmed: Catholic, elements of post-Soviet architecture and broad avenues, European in the center. Sure, I stereotype.

What I did NOT expect, right as I was visiting one of the last synagogues in Warsaw, was a lot of loud, a lot of rainbows, and a lot of pride in this thriving "young" country.

The Spaniards gone wild. (Reminds me of my first pride in 2006, Madrid)

Whatever you are, you can be proud. (The rest of the sign reads, "Proud by choice")

SRSLY

This one is for a special friend. Notice the flag.

Warsaw was hopping with pride. Announcers, men "dressed" as priests, drag queens, lesbians, gays, straights, purples. We all marched together with the support of the police (who were thanked, by the little Polish I could understand). We marched together to the armory (I think?) towards Old Town where dancing, chanting, laughter, and love ensued. Balloon (wo)man, my favorite.

Of course, Poland is a traditionally ethnic country, and at the fringes of every Pride, there is always some not so proud people, held back by police (don't let this picture fool you, those police are just getting off duty).

Anti-Gay posters.

One man was even sprinkling holy water on the crowd.

As I was being shoved around by lenses much larger than mine, I decided to get some lunch before I starved to death from lack of food for almost 12 hours (or edible food). In the process of getting some perogies (sp?) I stumbled upon a movie set, WWII something:

Lord knows today, I was both in front and behind a lot of pictures...

For a country that went from communist to European Union capitalist (and the president of the EU is polish this year) in only a span of about 15 years, I am really impressed at how far they have come and the amazing direction they are going. I AM PROUD!

The Rent is Too Damn High

2011-06-08T00:06:00.000-07:00

Oh leader of the "Rent is too damn high "party, Jimmy McMillan. How right you are.

Don't know what I'm talking about, click here.

The Rent or the Deficit is too damn high. Walking around Natrona Heights Pennsylvania today, I saw some things that I witnessed in some of the poorer towns of the Black Sea region where I have traveled:

1) Pawn Shops and Cash for Golds (I have counted FIVE new ones during my time at home)

2) Empty buildings to be rented

3) Small tobacco stores

4) Banks I have never heard of

5) Buildings falling apart and not kept up

Naturally, of course, these things could be anywhere. It was just the uncanny parallel of aesthetic and visual likeness that threw me a curveball.

Of course there was more to all of this, but you get the idea. Basically, what I know is the United States of America is matching up with some of the poorer towns in the world. Stop into a makeup store nearby, and they tell you they haven't sold anything in a week. Walk into certain grocery stores and they make you check your big purse at the door because of excessive amounts of shoplifting. The economy is bad and getting worse. As my astute mother pointed out, many people are just finishing up their unemployment benefits (which began at the crashes in 2008 and 2010). As people have no money to spend and no one else's money to spend, it only gets worse and worse.

I don't think most people in the cosmopolitan circles one usually frequents in the Ivy League see the effects of this poverty and how harsh of a toll it is really taking on parts of America. It is honestly frightening to see how derelict parts of what I must call my hometown have become.

If there is one thing people cling to, it may not be their "guns and bibles" but definitely the victories of the American military. A victory that happens thousands of miles away, that certainly did not resuscitate the dying businesses surrounding the super market where I took the picture of this t-shirt.

How is this helping us?

Seeing Robert Gates tear up in front of Diane Sawyer sparks many questions in me about the nature of war, economy, morale, and morality, just as it does in, dare I say it, Gates himself?

A few thoughts. Not developed, obviously. More importantly, observations.

21

2011-06-05T21:18:00.000-07:00

At 12:01 AM on June 4th, I ventured to the local dive bar to get my first legal six pack in the United States of America.

Previously, I had backpacked alone through the Balkans, the Middle East, and other parts of the world. I had shot guns. I received military recruitment mail. I drove across America. I have been attending an Ivy League institution. I drank legally in Muslim countries and five continents. I had driven many motorized vehicles. I voted in a presidential election. I drank legally in Canada.

I had not, however, drank legally in the USA.

So I go in. The place smells like aged beer and the people look like part of the furniture of the place itself. The beer refrigerators were dark. My thought was that they stopped selling beer after 9 PM! Oh No!

I ask, in perfect non-Pittsburghese English, the barmaid with big boobs: "Excuse me, do you sell liquor in this state after 9 PM."

She stares.

"Yea. Go get 'un."

I retrieve the only thing I could find palatable amongst the Buds, IC Lights, Natty Ice, and other brands: Sam Adams.

I go to the cashier of the silicon bra: "How much?"

"You are not from here, are ya?"
"Kind of..."

"Well enjoy. $13."

I pay and she turns around. I'm insulted. After all of these years, I could have just waltzed in here and gotten a six pack, just like that? I say, "Don't you want to see me ID??"

"No. You are old enough."

I pause.

"Well I just want you to know that I have been 21 for 10 minutes!"

She motions me to show her the ID, tries (and fails) to get the bar goers of ancient times to sing Happy Birthday. I leave, with a sense of pride, accomplishment, and perhaps a little bit of sadness.

I am no longer a "kid" but a bonafide woman. When did that happen? Oh wait. 11 minutes ago.

Cigarettes, Pumping Gas, Moronic People: Signs Our Country Is Going Crazy?

2011-05-27T15:46:00.000-07:00

I thought this was something that was so moronic, that no one would ever even consider the possibility of something like this happening in real life because common sense and LIFE SAVING INSTINCT would prohibit it:

Gasoline Fight

But NO. Today, as I was pumping my gas in a local grocery story gas station, I saw a woman and her daughter lighting up as they were pumping gas. At first, I was struck with the sensation of, "Why you dumb b****es!" But then I realized, "Wow, they could really catch this place on fire." So I decided to approach them, as calmly as I could, considering my innards were shaking with anger at their idiocy. I said, "Are you aware you can catch this place on fire with that lighter and those cigarettes?"

"Yes" said the very obvious chain smoker with sagging skin, wrinkled lips, and charred complexion.

"Do you care that you could kill everyone here?"

"I'm aware, okay?"

"So why aren't you a little accountable for the lives of everyone around here, okay?"

She got angry and started to walk towards me so I ran inside and told the attendent. Just FYI to you readers, smoking and pumping gas is illegal. I told him that some insane woman outside was smoking and pumping and he also freaked out, but laughed pretty hard too. I went back outside with my mother, both of us talking quite loud,

"How could you be so stupid?"

"Seriously, don't they know that is illegal?"

"Well at least they are on camera."

"Oh I hope she heard me."

Seriously. ACCOUNTABILITY folks. If there is one thing I Can-not-stand, it must be incompetence. If you are not awake enough to realize that you could possibly kill someone because of your own addiction, carelessness, or incompetence, you do not deserve the same freedoms the rest of us have. This kind of moronic behavior is something I do not tolerate (clearly). I feel a duty to my fellow human and myself; if we are in this game of evolutionary russian roulette, I want to make sure that we have the best odds of survival. I am not afraid to raise my voice when something I see is life-threatening.

Funny enough, in my near shaking anger as I drove away (as I heard the woman b***h about how I "didn't have the right to tell someone how to live" --hunny, I have the right to try to stay alive), I thought of America. It is kind of a political jump to make. Basically, is this the kind of behavior America is coming to? I didn't know who to blame. I jumped to stereotypes: Conservatives for their "freedom" and "no intervention" ideology, or liberals with their "rights for all" and "entitlement" and "welfare state." I might have had five different bad radio talk shows going on in my head and finally realized (whilst listening to Beyoncé's "Single Ladies) that it wasn't anyone's fault but that one person, for not having the common sense to stave off her addiction for 5 minutes to pump gas. Seriously, it wasn't political. It was just life.

So my moral of the story? If you see behavior that could harm others and kill everyone in an instant, don't make a political charade out of it. Change that behavior.

Commonsense.

Civil War Reenactments

2011-05-26T00:55:00.000-07:00

This year marks the 150th anniversary of America's "War Between the States" (not the "Civil War" according to the Prussian General actor at one reenactment). Unlike perhaps other countries who hold moments of silence for their some 500,000 who died in war, Americans like to celebrate the history and symbolism of this war by reenacting it.

As one dear friend said, "A sitting African-American President from Illinois (who sounds more and more Lincolnesque) at the same time of Civil War Reenactments. Strange times indeed." And rightly said. At a time in American history where we have powerful blacks, women, minorities, Southerners, Northerners, and many troops on ground abroad fighting very bloody wars, you would think Americans would not feel a need to constantly celebrate the Civil War, but they do.

My sister, inspired by a book, Confederates in the Attic, by Tony Horwitz, decided to do her senior project exploring Civil War Reenactments. First top? Lewisburg, West Virginia. During this particular May weekend, reenactors would carry out a four day "living history" extravaganza.

Now, Lewisburg has been voted the "coolest small town in America" by travel magazines. It has quirky little shops, yoga, homeopathic medicine, and tons of people who love to study the Confederates; very few think of themselves as Yankees, even though West Virginia, "Mountain Moma" as John Denver might say, seceded from Virginia in a disagreement over whether they should be Confederates or Yankees; one reenactor told me the disagreement was not over slaves, but overeconomy--the rich folk in the East were doing all the politicking while the poor white trash in the West were doing all the dying.

This is a trend in Civil War Reenactor Speech. As one Prussian General who fought on the side of the Confederates told me, the biggest misconception about the War Between the States was that, "Americans just want to put it on a bumper sticker, 'SLAVERY.' It was more than that. It was economy and states rights." Alright, economy in the South depended on slave labor (which of course New York and other cotton consuming industries depended on), but what rights were they trying to exert other than to keep their economies in healthy condition, to lower tariffs, and to keep the slaves that allowed them to have such labor intensive economies. One Black Soldier, from the 54th Massachusetts regiment claimed, "Slavery had NOTHING to do with the war. Not one thing." Then we asked if it had anything to do with moral, "Maybe. Sure you wanna go shoot the guy oppressing you, but we just wanted to be like everybody else. Not about slavery at all." I think you are feeling what I'm feeling right?

Indeed, aside from slavery, many reenactors place many of their own anxieties onto the war. The man playing General Lee assured us that if Lee were alive today, he would be part of the Tea Party. Because really, the rebel flag and Confederacy were exactly what American conservatism were today; anti-government, rebels with a cause of keeping the government out of their issues. Another man claimed he did reenactments because "The First thing that dies in war is the truth" and that we all had to read the other side to know "truth." I don't deny these things. Another man was very concerned about how youth learn history; his teachers had been very cruel to him in college with certain failing grades when he had to make a relative's funeral and couldn't make up the exam. He felt he was beloved by his students because of his stories and did reenactments to tell STORIES. He did have some really interesting stores too!

(temperance movement, at the irish pub of course)

Perhaps the strangest aspect is the frequency of such reenactments. One woman from Montana who used to work for the Department of Defense claimed she used to do just one a month, now spends almost every weekend in the spring and summer devoted to being different Confederate women, prostitutes, dames, abolitionists, and peacemakers. (While she was there, she led a temperance movement and threw all the guys out of the Irish Pub!) She said she liked it because it reminded her of a simpler time and life back home in Montana (though she assured us she saw some interesting things, like events leading up to the Fall of the Berlin Wall, or archaeology in Tel Aviv). She flashed in and out of personae, as if living multiple lives in multiple times and places.

The strangest thing is that all of the reenactors placed their own wishes, desires, doubts, frustrations, and hopes onto this war reenactment. Everything they hated about the government could somehow be in there. Everything they love about a certain lifestyle was suddenly manifest. Some men escaped their boring day jobs as mechanics, store cashiers, or high school students in small towns. Some women escaped their husbands for a little while and found other women doing the same. The war, the Rebel Cause, and the reenactment suddenly became a sort of escape, even despite being a symbol of suffering, division, slavery, and death. These "living historians" preached the truth, just like the Evangelical preacher at the Confederate Sunday Mass claimed. Everyone in the reenactments has their own truth; they choose when they die and when they resurrect (which is ultimately shouted at the end of skirmishes as well!). They choose what kind of history they approve of and which are too simple. (States rights and economy apparently do not go back to the issue of slavery at all, but each reenactor can tell you that the buttons on underwear at the time were made of animal bone, or that train tracks were standardized during the Civil War.)

All and all, this strange phenomenon in American history will be here for a long time. Perhaps as we sit here and dwell on how half a million lives were lost 150 years ago for economics, slavery, belief, propaganda, power, or rights, we should think of our own paranoia, angst, problems, shame, and concerns in an era of struggling economics, bipolarity, and division; let us not let history repeat itself except in a reenactment, on a hot summer day in Lewisburg, in 19th century garments.

Coming Soon: Civil War Reenactment Feature

2011-05-23T21:50:00.000-07:00

Keep your eyes posted for a feature on the bizarre yet entertaining phenomenon of Civil War Reenactments. My sister and I loaded up the car to travel to Lewisburg WV (voted "Coolest little town" in America!) to see the "Battle of Lewisburg" that took place 150 years ago this past Sunday, May 22. Writing it! If only my allergies would allow me to type and think faster...

No Mitch; Who?

2011-05-22T20:46:00.000-07:00

As you probably have heard, Mitch Daniels is not running for president.

#hopeless

Debt. Debt. DEBT.

My generation is screwed.

What is a liberal girl like myself to do? Obama 2012? c'mon, can't someone give this guy a run for his money?

Mitch Daniels: The Dinner

2011-05-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

Perhaps you know about my rather interesting relationship with conservatism. Born with a fiscally conservative father (currently undergoing a kind of "social liberal" make-over), without any one religion, raised on a horse farm in the hills of Pennsylvania, having attended an all-girls feminist and near bra burning institution, and currently at Yale--the bastion of elitist liberalism on the East Coast---naturally I have a funny kind of relationship with the GOP and with those Dems.

I mean, come on think about it:

+ (PLUS) +

? WTF ?

When I heard of this Mitch Daniels fellow, it was through my friend Max Eden, who started the Students for Daniels movement, to try to get Mitch to run for President in 2012. Ambitious and dedicated as he was, Max (the former long haired hippie who campaigned for Obama) started a national student movement with over 65 chapters at schools around America to get Mitch to run.

I was skeptical. How could a REPUBLICAN ever solve America's problems. But then I researched more about this guy. Some basic stats: Under Mitch, Indiana (what I thought to be quite the poor "backwards" state before), now has a Triple AAA credit rating by Standard and Poor's. He changed a $600 million deficit into a $370 million surplus within a year. He has reduced the state's debt by 40%. He has brought many jobs to the region and many international trade deals. His goal is to make Indiana the best place to open a business in the world. Basically, he wants people to have the choices in their pursuit of happiness.

That is Mitch's thing: choice, agency, freedom.

Of course, I ask about social issues. On these, Mitch is relatively quiet. Okay, pro-life, but has not banned abortion in the state. He has supported the choice of abortion up to 20 weeks (by then, you should know...) Gay marriage, he has been quite quiet on. Of course, I am skeptical of him on these issues, but the man is deeply concerned with the deficit of our country and how our country is just about to default on our debt. As he said, "Our problems right now are purely mathematical." He is less concerned with converting values as he is from converting red to blue ink on a ledger.

Basically, I was curious. I decided to go to the Indiana GOP dinner along with over 50 other students from out of state who are all gunning for Mitch to run. We were "tipped off" that he might announce his candidacy that night (based on the fact it was live streamed and nationally televised). Luckily, a member of the Indiana Republican Party donated the $200 per head dinner tickets... and made sure we sat in the very front next to the podium in a room of 1,100 people at the JW Marriott in Indianapolis. I put on a not-so-Republican blue dress with grey stilettos and went down to meet Mitch at 5:00. He had agreed to meet with all of us students, encouraging us that "If anyone could be a factor in his candidacy, it was us." He also encouraged that "Most politicians don't know 'why' they want to run, other than for themselves. I know the 'why' now it is just if me and my family are ready." (He later made the analogy that running was like going bungy jumping with 5 people who did not want to jump). He was charming, short (5'6"), self-deprecating, but very very intelligent. I was struck by his humility. He was just not so much of a rock star as one sees in Obama.

At dinner, he said he "was not saying we wouldn't" run, but he definitely let the issue aside. Instead, he emphasized out the Indiana GOP was different than national movements. In Indiana, they were more concerned about getting things done fiscally and economically, offering up a social truce until everyone could agree on certain things, like the budget. He said that the Indiana GOP used to be a "conservative party" meaning they did not like change or newness. Part of his goal was to make sure not just the GOP but Indiana changed that way, dusting themselves off and "MAKING THE CHANGES" that make everyone else change. Some would say he is speaking as Reagan would want. Others, including myself, think he is calling for a new order (even if informed by those Republican heydays).

Mitch was definitely no Newt. That is for damn sure. While we did not get the announcement of candidacy we had hoped for, we got a speech from Cheri Daniels, Mitch's reluctant wife. From one of Mitch's politicos, we ascertained that this was a test in Cheri's public speaking abilities; she has never campaigned for Mitch before and would have to hold off on milking the cows and being Indiana state's "Miss Maiz" or champion milker in order to give a public speech. (Wearing shorter heels would have helped....) It was a sign they were preparing for the public light.

At the dinner, I was sitting with the women from Chicks on the Right, a conservative blog dedicated to giving conservatism a make-over. (Check out the article they wrote after here). They helped me understand certain social issues of Mitch's I had been skeptical of. They were cool and wanted to sop my friend from Tennessee "up with a biscuit." They commented about Cheri's very full chest and loved Max and Michael, the two Students for Daniels leaders.

After dinner, we mingled. Max ended up asking the governor to a bar after and, after canceling his other plans, the Governor came with the Students for Daniels! I was standing outside of the hotel (not wanting to walk the 6 blocks to the bar in my heels). The Governor saw me and asked, "Do you need a ride?" I said yes, and soon 4 others were with me, riding in the Governor's personal SUV. He was genuinely kind.

Later at drinks, I asked him a more personal question, "Why did you go into politics?" He answered more along the lines that in college, he had been inspired while working in the Mayor's office, but went into the private sector upon their advice. Later, people were begging him to go into public service! (Better than forcing oneself early on!) For him, it was a twist of fate, interest, and passion. He asked me then, not where I go to school, but said, "Danielle, where are you from?" I was struck that he knew my name. I had not tag on. (He must have remembered me as the "ambivalent Democrat" on CNN, because I did not talk to any of his politicos up to that point). Turns out we are both from Western PA and he was happy to share his Kennywood park memories, Steelers fanaticism, or love of sports. He was actually driving to Monongahela the next day.

I was struck. I actually liked someone in politics. WHAT? How could this be? A REPUBLICAN no less?

In the end, I hope he runs, regardless of election. His dialog about fiscal truth and responsibility is something this nation needs (even if we don't get it at first). Making the social truce and focusing on the monetary (which is directly tied to the social) is the first step in the political process I would like to see in 2012. Unfortunately if Newt or some such person gets the nomination, I fear further division. At least both Obama AND Mitch can talk to both sides of the party line.

Who knows, Mitch just might make this bleeding heart liberal think twice about one or two things. And it certainly would not be from his charm, height, or smooth talking, but sound reason, proof, and logic.

THE DO GOODER

2011-04-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my 101st post! (I must be a slacker blogger if it has taken this long...)

Anyways, just wanted to share a new film I starred in called, THE DO GOODER, directed by my dear friends Emmy Pickett and Jimi Patterson. The film is very musical with keen attention to details, rhythm, timing and a core story. I have every song in it stuck in my head and the images (aside from me being a complete narcissist now) are also stuck in my head.

I hope you enjoy it, and tell Jimi and Emmy that you liked it by visiting their vimeo page and giving them loads of compliments.

Check it HERE.

CLICK IT. DO IT.

Love it. Also check out the trailer, which is equally entertaining HERE.

Waiting to Hear: Where are the voices of the Title IX Signatories?

2011-04-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

Often times with feminist issues and leaders, if you are not with them, you are against them. Sometimes we fear to ask questions of our feminist leaders, for fear of seeming contrarian. I am not. However, Trying to speak out with an alternative vision for feminism can be particularly difficult for fear of being perceived as being a chauvinist, a self-hating feminist, or as Gloria Steinem said, “If you are not a feminist, you are a masochist.”

However, I am feminist. A large majority people in the Yale community, including myself, thought something had to be done about the way Yale handles cases of sexual harassment and assault. However, judging by the general sentiment I have experienced, many people in the Yale community are more frustrated than pleased with how the 16 signatories of the Title IX complaint went about their way in reforming Yale’s sexual grievance system in near secrecy, without any community lead up or dialogue before going to the Federal government.

I know that what the Title IX complaint is trying to do is reform the institutional inner workings of Yale's policies surrounding sexual harassment and assault. I agree something had to be done, but the fact that there was no public lead up calls into question some of the tactics they used. Of course they got results, but I often wonder at what expense? Especially when they have not voiced their complaints in the Yale student community as directly as they have to national news... The result is a lot of miscommunication on campus. A lot of frustration. A lot of unnecessary sexual jokes and at times, hostilities towards what has been called an "unnecessary and wasteful investigation." As I overheard someone at lunch the other day, this was an "Egregious waste of Federal spending on an investigation that could take place internally." I disagree that this was a waste of spending or a waste of time---something had to happen! However, I think that there has to be major clarifications about the nature of what the Title IX complaint entails, how it was created, etc.

Basically, what I hope and expect is that the public representatives of the Title IX Signatories step forward and explain directly to their peers the nature of their investigation and what it entails, and more importantly, why they chose the tactics they did with so little lead up. If we are to follow our feminist spearheads, we want to know what exactly they are saying.

I just really hope that the Yale community clarifies something that could be potentially divisive in the student body. Title IX can be a very positive step for change, so long as we accept it as such and not misconstrue or misconceive its implications.

Title IX: From a Closeted Feminist

2011-04-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Yale is undergoing a federal investigation by the Office of Civil Rights for violation of Title IX after a group of 16 Yale students went to the feds with complaints of sexual harassment and discrimination of the Yale campus, particularly after many incidents (like DKE shouting, "No means yes, Yes means Anal," the "Yale Sluts" incident done by frat boys, lack of more serious action in punishment to bring about a more equal and zero-tolerance environment for sexual discrimination). If found guilty, Yale could lose $500 million of federal funding under Title IX.

Just to bring attention for more news:

The Yale Herald

From Broad Recognition

The Yale Daily News

Article to be coming soon either here or in another outlet.

A few things to consider:

1) Why not a larger emphasis on the biggest problem: the internal labyrinth of the inadequate sexual grievance review system at Yale? (This is undergoing some reform, but still....)

2) Why not a lead-up on the part of those 16 girls? Why not a larger community movement This grievance comes out of no where, unbeknownst to the Yale community until the Feds were notified. We need a campus movement primarily before we bring in the Feds to solve our problems.

3) Hopefully this will lead to more investigations into sexual harassment/discrimination in hazing both at Yale and around the country. One can hope.

4) How does the average Yale woman feel about this? Most support some sort of reform and investigation, but tend to think we should go about this in a different way, with a lot more community dialog. (Just from talking to a lot of women on campus)

5) What will this do to Yale's Title IX funding?

After hibernation, I'm back: provoked by ROTC and Columbia

2011-02-23T14:48:00.000-08:00

After a long hiatus filled with over 200 pages of writing and countless and thousands of pages of writing, I have decided to come back to my blog, which had remained silent since September. Sometimes that desire to speak out has higher risks to be judged more harshly when you are in Yale's environment. But here is to my commitment to greet success, failure, love and criticism. Here we go again. I mustn't relent!

What actually prompted my voice again was the egregious treatment of a wounded veteran and student at Columbia University.

Check it out:
Here
and Here

Now, if there is something that makes my blood boil, its discrimination against people of color (I say this to describe anyone who is not "white," as also proscribed by a Diversity conference I attended. I know the debate here too), gay, lesbian, transgendered, bi, women, or disabled. For a long time, my support of ROTC was tarnished by Don't Ask Don't Tell (DADT) but when it was repealed, I was overjoyed. For a traditionally "conservative" institution, this had to be a huge move that I applauded. To me, this was as enormous step in rights of LGBT peoples and towards social progress in America.

Now, if there is something else that makes my blood boil and churn, it is the mocking or disrespect towards a wounded soldier. Regardless of whether you support wars, conflicts, humanitarian missions, or not (or the other myriad of functions the military plays), a wounded man is a wounded man who suffered a lot to be alive where he is today. A veteran is not "THE MAN" but only a man who happens to have gone through a lot more than most Americans could handle. He is still probably going through things that he cannot handle without much difficulty and struggle. Shame on those disrespectful students who boo a wounded man.

Columbias students' signs "The Military Preys on Low Income Communities" might have a point or an observation. However, this should in no way be a source of legitimacy to ban ROTC, a source of bringing highly educated, talented, and schooled individuals into the army. If anything, the re-introduction of ROTC into the Ivy League could change the military's operation, its values, and its operations. An educated soldier is a force to be reckoned with, one who can (someday) even climb the ranks and gradually shift the military to a new and better place.

Protesting alone and insulting victims of war will not change the military but only create a larger problem. Dialogue from the outside, but also, more importantly, within the military is the MOST IMPORTANT. If anything, internal dialogue, brought about by educated persons from NYU, Davidson, Yale, University of Pittsburgh, Pomona, Harvard, Columbia, and everywhere around the country, is perhaps the most powerful force of change for the military, not the isolation of the military--- that would only create a larger gap between America and a military filled with old, stern, and hardened men and a bunch of "low income" victims.

I encourage ROTC on college campuses as a force of creating more dialogue, change, and progress in US Armed Forces.

I support our troops. I support our LGBT community. I support our women and men. I may not support certain military decisions.

I will scorn those who hiss at a gunshot victim who has put on a uniform for our country. I will equally scorn those who discriminate against any person of color, gender, sexual preference, or religious identity. Out of a sort of nausea, something inside of me really wants to say "Get Real" Columbia, but instead, I'll say, "Rethink this, Columbia." I know Yale has been.

Note: If my terminology, so important in civil and social rights, has in any way offended or has been misattributed, I apologize. I really did carefully consider my word choices. I hope my sister is proud.

Social Media, The Music Industry and Global Good: Chats with Lupe Fiasco, Kenna and more!

2010-09-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

"the ink of a scholar is worth a thousand times more than the blood of a martyr

we came through the storm nooses on our necks
and a smallpox blanket to keep us warm
on a 747 on the pentagon lawn
wake up the alarm clock is connected to a bomb
anthrax lab on a w. Virginia farm
shorty ain't learned to walk already heavily armed
civilians and little children is especially harmed
camouflaged Torahs, Bibles and glorious qurans
the books that take you to heaven and let you meet the Lord there
have become misinterpreted, reasons for warfare
we read 'em with blind eyes I guarantee you there's more there" --Lupe Fiasco's "American Terrorist"

These don't seem to be the typical lyrics of a Grammy award winning rapper and hip hop artist. Believe it or not, they are. He is an artist dedicated to use his fame, power, art form, and media to promote social justice and change. Lord knows we need it. In my meeting with Lupe Fiasco at the UN Digital Media Lounge, I got to personally talk to him as well as listen to other people in the industry, including Kenna, Musician & Founder of Summit on the Summit, Simon Isaacs, VP Sustainability Marketing, ignition Azita Ardakani, Founder & Chief Idea Officer, Lovesocial Laura Checkoway, Contributing writer for RollingStone.com and former senior editor, Vibe, and Elizabeth Gore, Executive Director of Global Partnerships, UN Foundation. All of them had some new things to say about how Digital Media was being used in an age of media, music, pop culture, and fame--as well as an age of social justice, development, and equality/health (hopefully!)

Basically, Lupe and Kenna are both musicians who focus on using their fan base to make a change. The crew all together did a "Summit on the Summit" of Mt. Kilimanjaro, climbing the mountain to raise awareness for the needs of clean water in developing countries. Kenna is ethiopian and as a child his father came down with a water borne illness. Clean water is the single most important factor and needs in a lot of communities. They used digital media, blogposts, movies, and music to publicize their climb, which was a symbol of solidarity, persistence, and Africa.

Lupe is a rather coy, unassuming, hip kind of guy who likes to surround himself with people who "Take action and do cool shit." He described the climb as "a crucible made in the pits of hell. But I've always been attracted to doing something, you know what I'm saying? That don't make sense? You know ac-tiv-ity. Being active. People who are doing very positive things, world changing things. I'm opposed to throwing eggs as the popi, I'm just not down with that. I don't organize much, I just follow along with my friends." That isn't true according to Kenna though. Lupe organizes a lot! After Haiti, Lupe was immediately calling friends, organizing a group of people in order to cut a benefit song for Haiti.

Sometimes the UN doesn't catch on so quickly to the efforts that celebrities put out. When 21 million people were impacted in Pakistan from the recent atrocities, a lot of musicians came out wanting to do something, but the UN didn't move quickly enough to take advantage of that, says Elizabeth Gore, from the UN Foundation.

Hand in hand with this organizing is a positive note from the press. Laura Checkoway writes for Rollingstone, focusing on rappers, RB singers and hiphop artists who she things are "poets from the streets, speaking about social justice issues otherwise being ignored." Instead of talking or provoking gossip, she tries to create a more productive portrait. For instance, she writes a story about Lil'Wayne doing a story about the poverty he grew up in in New Orleans. How he was a weirdo and a shortie (not like the women!) and using his uniqueness to become a superstar (though he did write the infamous lyric in "A Milli" that goes "I'm a venereal disease like a menstrual bleed..."). Of course, as a writer she claims, most people want the dirt and fluff out of her. She has faced a lot of "barriers, trying to deliver the real."

Azita Ardakani, from Love Social, does a lot with social media. Given 48 hours after a crisis, she builds strategies for social media campaigns to get people to learn about the issue, donate, and be inspired to take further action. Its hard though. She claims that as social media grows and there is just so much of it, you have to be super creative in trying to get support, as everyone has a cause. "I don't even bother putting 'Donate' in some of the twitters or texts. I just gloss over that word myself."

All of these people have something to offer. Lupe says its particularly important for America to reach out. He says, "Most people who live in America have ties to other countries." Activating a little part of your fan base wherever that is is enough to raise awareness to the "common man. Humans, excuse me. I just hate when I say stuff like that." (he is very particular with words!). Lupe is a Muslim from Chicago, otherwise born as Wasalu Mohammad Jaco. He offered then what he called an anecdote from Islam. As he says, "Human beings are compassionate. From the pope to the poor man to the rich man, humans have an innate sense of compassion." He claims "My brand is about Social justice. Any time there is a movement to mute or censor or block what I'm doing, people talk. Child soldiers, tolerance, family, religions. I'm sayin it in my music. I hit those walls, and then it goes to the editorials."

Kenna has been going to the editorials lately. He was marching on Washington to pass the "water for the world act" which makes a commitment to helping to supply clean water to developing and needy nations. To Kenna, water is his "issue" he is most passionate about. "It comes back down to purpose at the end of the day, if you don't have a purpose then you are wandering aimlessly." He tried to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro 5 years ago alone and couldn't do it. It "kicked my ass" as he said. With "my allies, I could. What I learned is we won't reach out life's mountain top, our fight for good or change, we won't reach it by ourselves. We won't get to the top without each other."

Towards the end, we asked Lupe if he could give us a concluding anecdote. Lupe is a Muslim from Chicago, otherwise born as Wasalu Mohammad Jaco. He offered then what he called an anecdote from Islam."I'm a Muslim, so I'll give you one of those foundations from Islam. Its Remembrance. Reminder. Human beings are innately forgetful. Constantly remind yourself of what you are doing. Remember there are people below and above you."

When I got to talk to Lupe one on one without the others later on, I asked him if he thought his social justice messages got in the way of his art--a common issue in explicitly political art works. He said, "Naw. Pablo Picasso painted Guernica and it is one of the greatest pieces of art of all time. It was POLITICAL. It was all about social justice. So I say Guernica the World!"

Guernica the world. Not a bad idea. I hope he comes to see my play "War in Times of Love," which is all about post-conflict Balkans--politics and art!

Grassroots Girls Go Global and $40 BILLION CAMPAIGN!

2010-09-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

5 Minutes to write until the next panel.... and GO!

CEO of Vivanista (a social network of philanthropists and fundraisers), Layne Gray, asked a panel of women involved in strategic, philanthropic, and aid agencies for women and children, "Its been 10 years since the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) have been announced. We are still struggling with universal education (2) gender equality (3) child health (4) and maternal health (5). How do we amp up conversation about women's issues?"

With 5 years left to meet the UN MDGs, we do not have much time. At this moment, the photo in TIME of the Afghan women whose nose had been cut off pops into my head. Gender Equality for Afghanistan?

Four other women sit on the panel, clearly eager, angry, talented, and hopeful. They respond. Nainab Salibi goes first. She is the Founder of Women for Women International, who has been described as a new age Mother Theresa, only "better dressed." As an Iraqi whose father flew Saddam Hussein's private plane, she knows a thing or two about war. Her organization has touched 270,000 women and girls in conflict zones by providing access to education and scholarships, practical jobs, and other support to empower women in places like Bosnia, Afghanistan, Rwanda. By offering "Women to women" partnerships where a wealthier woman sponsors another woman in exchange for letters or photos, her organization creates hope for women (ranging from Bosnian rape camps to the hills in Afghanistan) who say, "I'm too hopeless to be helped." Zainab calls for "Humility and help, and a greater interaction between American women and women abroad." Right now, $0.02 of every $1.00 of aid goes to girls/women. She calls for amping up the March 8th World Women's Day in the US. She described Women's day in Bosnia as a time filled with flowers, where a Bosniak woman can hold the hand of a Serbian woman and say "Enough is enough." For Zainab, women in the US need to say, "Enough is enough" as well. "This is the women's and girl's century. We need to speak up and speak loud, get angry!"

Kimberly Perry, the Director of Girl Up as part of the UN Foundation's campaign to meet the MDGs, replies calmly, but boldly. She has faith in the generosity of American Girls and women, why she sponsors initiatives like "High $5" where youth can encourage the donation of $5 to the Foundation. Apparently, its really "cool." 53% of girls across America are willing to donate their own money to causes and hers is one of them. But is this enough?

Nancy Lublin, the CEO of DoSomething is feisty. Her organization has empowered over 1 million kids and teens to create projects that aid others abroad and at home. She says, "If you look on Google Analytics and research crisis stories on Tsunamis or Katrina, you don't get much." When women and girls depend on the connection and story and there is simply no story, how can they help? On top of that, 10 years after the MDGs, they have not been fulfilled. On TOP of that, organizations trying to meet the goals depend a lot on the generosity of "feisty, ambitious, and powerful" women and girls in America who donate $5 or $27 here or there. "Where is the corporate funding? 10 years after the MDGs, this is a global embarrassment! God is pissed. She's really mad!" Her call? Make the STORY! BLog! Get the word out. Her message? "25,000 girls under 15 will become child brides TODAY alone. Be pissed. Tweet it! Tell the story. Do Something!"

Nancy Zhang, a teen who is an International Trustee of Key Club international. She sees that the 250,000 members of Key Club International are mostly girls. As she says, "Girls want to be popular, without standing out too much." They like to do things in groups and collaborate. When the older women on the panel ask her if she can help carry out the MDGs, she replies "yes" confidence.

yet i'm sitting here. I like the hopeful women sitting in front of me and the work they do. Its really powerful and really effective. I've worked with something like Women for Women before, called Women for Afghan Women. I know they do good, effective, powerful work.

However, these women in front of me are all asking for a change in dialogue in order to help meet these MDGs. Has the dialogue changed? They are asking me (a woman) to get angry. To talk. To tell stories. Well, I'm here to tell stories. However, as I've mentioned in my blog before, I'm a born skeptic. Buzz words like "Green" or "Think Globally, Act Locally" and "Party for a Cause" make me a little anxious. How can "party for a cause" and dialogue alone 5 years before the MDGs must be met save the 8 million young children who die each year of preventable causes, including pneumonia, diarrhea, malaria, and tuberculosis? There has to be something big. Well maybe the prayers (and dialogue) of these women were answered, because this "something big" is coming today.

At 2:00 Ban Ki-Moon, the Secretary General of the UN is going to announce the $40 BILLION campaign for the Global Strategy for Women and Children's health and how we are going to meet the millennium goals.

MDG 4 calls for a two-thirds reduction in under-five mortality and MDG 5 calls for a three-quarters reduction in maternal mortality and universal access to reproductive health.

Ban Ki-Moon better offer a damn good strategy. He is making this skeptic believe.

Note: facts and figures from UN documents supplied by conference

Just arrived: UN Week's Digital Media Lounge

2010-09-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

Never in my life have I seen so many bloggers in one room.

I'm here at 92Y, one of New York's largest community and cultural centers. Immediately, I'm directed towards a room with large double doors, where there a few hundred bloggers are holding mics up to each other's faces, interviewing Marianne Williamson, number one best selling author who had just spoken, and typing away at Twitter and blogger, facebook and more.

Now I'm off to listen to a "What girls can teach the world" panel. Kimberly Perry, director of Girl Up, Nancy Lublin CEO of DoSomething, Zainab Salibi, Founder of Women for Women International, Nancy Zhang, INternational Trustee, Key club teen, and Layne Gray, CEO of Vivanista.

UN Digital Media Lounge! Follow Me!

2010-09-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

All of you ghost followers who do not "officially" follow my blog, now is the time to click the button and make it official!

Why?

This Wednesday (and possibly Thursday) I'll be in NYC reporting from 92nd Street Y for the UN Week's Digital Media Lounge, covering stories I pick up from visiting world leaders and "do-gooders" trying to reach the UN Millennium Development Goals! I'll be there covering stories almost every hour from people like Zainab Salbi, founder of "Women for Women International," Nancy Lublin, CEO of "DoSomething," Tamara Krenin, the Executive Director of Women and Population for the UN Foundation," Kenna, the Musician and founder of "Summit on the Summit," Lupe Fiasco the Musician and Global Do-Gooder, among Many Many more!

Check it out: http://www.unfoundation.org/your-role/partners/un-partners/un-week-digital-media-lounge.html

Shout out to Sandbox Network for helping me get the passes and from the lovely ladies from the online version of The Yale Globalist international affairs magazine.

So follow me to get daily updates on the exciting happenings!

Post-Modern, Deconstructionist, Neo-Colonial, Diverse Approaches to War

2010-09-09T12:51:00.000-07:00

Being back in America after a summer of automatic weapons, NATO, and barbed wire really opens you up to the absurdity with which we as Americans, at home, look at war "out there."

For instance. Shopping ("choosing") classes at Yale. I was interested in approaching war through different disciplines and approaches (philosophy, politics, history, literature). What I got instead was the "Post modern, deconstructed, neo-colonial approach" to suffering, security, and war. Now, I can do academic speak with the best of them, but somehow this approach is a little... removed. And not just physically. Is it missing the mark?

Sure, I think its better to see through the fog of war when you are outside of it, when you have fog lights, and when you have the blessing of distance and reason. In war, most people would lose their minds. Search for immediate answers and solutions. Take sides. Play defense. Its a life or Death situation. Therefore, academia and logic come to support these things accordingly. Nationalism becomes an academic institution. Linguistics are part of the national agenda. Therefore, it makes sense in many ways to study war before going into it and outside of it. No one wants a general who has never studied a war before!

Yet outside the wartime environment, I wonder how we imagine (or refuse to imagine) the suffering, strategy, pain, failure, and successes (how and if they exist) in wartime? At some point in the 20th century, the existence and critique of war took a whole new turn. When, finally, in 1928 with the Kellogg-Briand Pact, 15 nations (including France, US, Great Britain, Germany, Italy, and Japan) denounced war as an instrument of national policy, it seems like the critique and protest of war took a whole new level. If war was not just "politics by other means" as Clausewitz might have put it, but indeed an instrument (is this fair to say IS friends?), its seems like there are more alternatives to war. Are other instruments there? If warfare changed drastically since Clausewitz's time with modern weaponry and weapons of mass and systematic destruction, then there must be a sort of peacemaking that must also evolve that is mass and systematic. With the new type of peacemaking and new type of war, came a whole new type of criticism of war... mass criticism.

Mass criticism. Think of the intellectuals (Einstein included!) who were dragged into the peacemaking process in 1917-1919 after WWI. Think of the journalists during WW2. What about Rebecca West, the epitome of a "modern woman" critiquing and reporting on Nuremberg. Think of Vietnam and the mass protests. If anti-war protests ever reached a peak, it would probably be surrounding Vietnam. I haven't heard pop anti-war songs against Iraq, but think of those singing about leaving Vietnam (my personal favorite being Country Joe & the Fish's "The 'Fish' Cheer" or "I-feel-like-I'm-fixin-to-die," some lyrics being "put down your books and pick up a gun, we're gonna have a whole lot of fun/And its 1, 2, 3, what are we fighting for?/ Don't ask me I don't give a damn/ Next stop is Vietnam."). Think of the deaths from student uprisings. The mass movements and social protest. For our time, when Iraq costs more than Vietnam. When we are approaching a decade in Afghanistan. Where are the protests?

Or are they even necessary? Should we bother?

As Susan Sontag explains in her book "Regarding the Pain of Others," "The argument that modern life consists of a diet of horrors by which we are corrupted and to which we gradually become habituated is a founding idea of the critique of modernity---the critique being almost as old as modernity itself." I wonder if we just got tired of the fight to even protest it. Are we in an age of Mass Apathy? Did we got too comfortable with Wal-Mart and the war games we buy from their shelves for our Xboxs and PlayStations? Perhaps we don't care enough. Perhaps we don't see the repercussions that war spending has on our economy or on the lives of the families of soldiers.

Perhaps we just got too enthralled with protesting mosques to protest wars.

Yet, when I ask most people from my generation, they don't really think about the war. There isn't a forced conscription. They have never seen or held an automatic weapon. More interestingly, they think protests and social unrest have no place or point in American society. There are other ways. Get power. Get jobs. Get sex. Get money. Get it all, but don't lose your sense of morals! Get beyond that "european" social unrest. Protests and "social movements" are for anarchists and hippies... not hipsters or preps. To many in my generation, we think our parents were just smoking pot, holding signs, and screaming at "the man" because it was cool. Just like wearing American Apparel and dancing in dingy basements is cool now. Friends have told me, "If we want to make social change, its not through a perpetual party, so why protest? Protests are irrational." I'm not disagreeing.

So, "What to do." as they say in the Balkans.

At Yale, when we are sitting next to advisors to Presidents and former world leaders, we are too worshipful of the fact they are there to even ask meaningful questions. Students want to be friends with these guys and impress them with their quotations and Washington Post knowledge. We of all people could actually say something, probe, and maybe practice asking questions that still let us sit next to them the next class without losing our integrity and respect. If anything, we should be practicing this skill of asking those questions before we really screw up in the "real world." If I ask someone why they didn't ask a probing question, they respond: "Well, (fill in the blank topic: security, IS, history, lit) is just so complicated and I didn't want to seem stupid."

Is my generation habituated to apathy? Are we too comfortable?

or are we just restless and blow off steam in other ways....

Shekeled and Euroed: A Girl's Guide to coming back from the East

2010-08-19T11:33:00.000-07:00

"Modern world don't ask why

cause modern world, build things high

now they house canyons filled with life.

Modern World I'm not pleased to meet you

You just bring me down." --Wolf Parade's "Modern World"

Back in Amurrrrrica from my 2 week hiatus in the Middle East, namely Israel and Jordan, after my brief jaunts in Athens and Belgrade coming from Prishtina. Granted, even though I was sick with a whooping cough, I had an urge to sing "Proud to be an American" when I touched down in New York (same urge I had in Macedonia using the most putrid bathrooms ever smelled 10 meters away). I had a surge of a sort of love and respect for the efficiency, organization, accountability, and other little (and big things) I had missed about this complicated, admirable, and terrifyingly powerful country. I had intended to write about "borders" (something most Americans don't encounter... ever) but something is a little more pressing.

My bank account.

Okay, not really. But coming back from the land of 4 shekel dozens of rugelah (Jewish chocolate pastry), .50 Euro lattes, and cheap 2 hour cab rides that seem expensive at the time, but end up being only $20. I was couch surfing and spending money really only on transportation and the occasional goodie, relying on the kindness of strangers to lend a car ride, a couch, or some chicken at shabbos or iftar. Oh the life of the traveler! Sounds romantic, eh?

Then I come to America. At first, I was most surprised at the lack of automatic weapons. A summer near NATO and the IDF will do that to you. The next thing I was surprised at was how efficient and accountable everything was. (Time near the Kosovo government will make you a little shell shocked coming back to America). Next, I was surprised that people generally obeyed traffic laws and did not drive next to back hoes tearing up the road with no traffic cones warning the public.

However, I am more surprised at how expensive basic living is. All that accountability and responsibility I was talking about before comes with a price. I went shopping today at Wal-Mart for some supplies. Don't judge. I don't have a Whole Foods near my house. I'm moving into a new house at school and really needed supplies like laundry detergent, dishwashing soap, toilet paper, staple foods and tooth paste. Not anything out of the ordinary.

At the check out, the boys in front of me had spent $80 on school supplies and soap for college. The Cashier, a rather plump woman who's tata's hung over the scanner, lamented the costs of underwear with the boys and how expensive it is to live. They said, "College is expensive." I said, "Tell me about it."

My turn. I scan my Tide. My non-organic dish soap. My Charmin toilet Paper. My only indulgence in all of this is a box of "Just Bunches" cereal and some Rembrandt tooth whitening mouth wash ($6.95). After all of this, and then more food and cleaning supplies, my total is $160. WTF.

The lady behind me is talking about how every time she comes to Wal-Mart she ends up spending $100. "You get your soap, your toilet paper, your tooth paste. You spend $100, get home and realize you didn't buy any food." I swipe a credit card and cringe. I can afford it and my economy size Tide is sure to last all semester, but still. That is not a pretty number.

I talk to the ladies and ask, "How do we live in America? How do people even get by if soap is $5.99 and minimum wage is $5.50/hr?" They complain about the cost of food. I say I'll become a vegetarian. Then I say I won't because its too expensive to eat fresh produce when a burrito is only $6.00 and I will spend that much on 6 apples at Gourmet Heaven in New Haven.

New Haven recently lost its sole supermarket, Shaw's, this past year. It leaves a student/poor food stamp neighborhood with no alternative other than a food co-op, minimarts, and an incredibly overpriced gourmet food store. Those ladies think Wal-mart is expensive, try shopping in a town without a supermarket, where a carton of milk will put you back $5.

I am just struck at how expensive basic living is in America (and Switzerland, where a small latte at the airport put me back about $6.50). I sometimes think, "How can we consume more when its so much more expensive??" And then I remember, "CREDIT." On my student side, I surely don't use that much toilet paper and a meager amount of laundry detergent (and I rarely do laundry...). I think I live pretty simply and do without a 32 oz. $7 Seventh Generation Laundry detergent (Tide is $6 for 50 oz.). I don't bother with dryer sheets and don't get caught up in gimic buys. Mostly because I drink coffee religiously and have a special budget for that....

In the mean time, I will reminisce about my .50 Euro lattes as I go back to paying $3.00 a latte and drinking about 3 of them a day because I am a sleepless ambitious college student, wanting to make it in this world. Doesn't that sound like a funny coincidence?

Good thing I bought a coffee maker.

Belgrade and the Theater of Necessity

2010-08-03T13:05:00.000-07:00

In geopolitical lingo, the word "theater" describes a "region where active military operations are in progress" or more generally "a region where significant events and actions are played out." The world naturally has many theaters of this sort.

Somehow, Belgrade is a true theater, of both the artistic and geopolitical sense of the word.

During my time in Belgrade this weekend, I had the honor and pleasure of visiting with Borka Pavicevic, an iconic artistic, political, social, and activist figure in Belgrade for the past 30 or so years. She is an actress and theater maker by trade and part of the famed Belgrade circle of intellectuals, a now dying or disbanded breed that included Foucault, Habermas, Derrida, and Savic (who I also met) among others. Borka has an air about her. Probably 60 something, she wears slinky shifty dresses, old pearls, dons a bold dark stripe in grey hair, wears deep matte red lipstick, and never is seen without a cigarette. Her deep voice is a strange mix between an old bubby and a sex symbol. Her presence commands attention and her words reveal a depth of understanding in terms easily understood (to agree or disagree with!).

Borka Pavicevic

Today she is a leading chair at the Center for Cultural Decontamination in Belgrade and an active translator, writer, theater maker, and cultural envoy in Europe and the world. She works also with the Youth Initiative for Human Rights--the most effective, organized, and professional human rights agency I've ever witnessed. They have objectives, strategies, and achievable goals to promote democracy, civil engagement, and a revival of Serbian optimism for a new option and new alternative to old Nationalistic discourses that cling to Kosovo at the expense of progress.

As an artist in a theater of operations that has seen Turks, Austrians, Greeks, Romans, Germans, Russians, Internationals, the US, and more, she is very concerned with elements of identity--both as we understand and construct it. The Balkans have historically been a clusterf*ck of identities. In Borka's example: "Former professors of Marxism are now professors of religion!" Particularly now, when old religious and nationalist identities are reemerging in the vacuum of money, stability, and economy in Serbia, identity is a huge issue. She described the reemergence of these beliefs and ideologies--particularly with the Orthodox Church and its relationship to culture and even art.

One of her most memorable quotes to me was this, "A Church without belief is kitsch. Church and the theater require belief, a necessity. With a church, you can build a building and they will come when they need it. With a theater, you cannot just build the building. The people ARE the theater."

Borka, admittedly said that the Theater was mostly disbanded in the 1990s. Today, she is trying to bring it back. As she said, she NEEDS to bring it back to counteract the extremist nationalist, old-school-Serb dialog that holds back a lot of progress in Serbia. The theater gets to those people and the people are going to the theater. As a symbol of progress and peace herself, Borka is shaping a "Theater of Necessity" in Belgrade (not an official title mind you, but concept). There is an agenda in this theater (theater defined here by the people in it), an agenda to salvage, form, and show a process of forming an identity that will move Serbia forward and not keep it back.

The Theater is Necessary because Change is necessary or else Serbia will face dire economic, political, and social consequences (estimated to be on level with those of Greece's recent economic collapse.) When done well, the theater is a machine which we must desire to create and by which we rethink ourselves.

I have been reading current plays from the region, particularly those of Jeton Neziraj, a Kosovar playwright who has gained international renown for single handedly creating a theater in Kosovo, but a theater that actively helps the population rethink war, conflict, and identity. For those skeptics of political theater (I speak to those purists out there!), Neziraj's plays are not solely works of political theater, but are strong piece of literature, regardless of where you come from.

It got me to thinking about my theater. All of these artists are using the theater, not for commercial or entertainment reasons solely, but for a necessary political, ideological, and life-saving agenda. Theater, not just film, has always been a way of bearing witness to people and their actions in a way that film just does not achieve in the same way. It is a near religious experience when done well.

These artists NEED the theater they create and form. It begged me to rethink what I am creating, doing, and saying with my theater.

Immediately after talking to Borka, I contacted several dear theater making friends of mine, calling for a reform of our juvenile theater and coming to a greater intensity of purpose and ideas in what we create. What do we need in creating theater? Why do we need it? Do we even need it?

I beg of you to post responses about what you need in theater.

Responses, however random or unorganized they are, are below:

"I thought how wonderful it could be to teach kinesthetic response workshops to people all over the world. The workshops are aiming to get people in touch with their own center, to respond physically and emotionally to their own complicated thoughts and drives, in a creative, instead of destructive, way; as well as responding to others in the same ways." Timmia HF

"[Theater] goes deeper than that (or perhaps shallower), I'm talking about people like us. not every so-called intellectual is ever going to want to really think. Not every so-called artist is ever going to want to truly create and speak to God. But artists are modern-day prophets." -Timmia HF

"At Yale, in theater, and often, in class, we try to say and do things that are "necessary" because their necessity is a sign of their worth. We want to be good at making theater (or writing essays, talking in section), and surely, a
good theater-maker or thinker would produce work that is "important," "relevant," "vital," and "necessary." I do believe that this compulsive drive toward accomplishment is poison for the thinker and theater-maker. It makes the shows and the papers more boring than a pissing contest. The question is, what can take the place of that drive? If we are not guided in our thought and in our theater-making by love of praise, what are we guided by?" -Rachel P.

What does she want?

"Choosing/designing projects around what I consider to be theater's greatest asset: the fact that the actor/character may fail to achieve his goal at any moment, that the 2 hours of the play are the only chance, that the audience is bearing witness to a real attempt." --Rachel P

I encourage my theatrical community to continue posting ideas (by choosing to follow my blog!!) and keep this discourse going.

Our theater must be more similar to the geopolitical definition. "A PLACE WHERE SIGNIFICANT ACTIONS AND EVENTS TAKE PLACE."

The Entrepreneurial Scene in Kosovo

2010-07-31T14:32:00.001-07:00

Kosovo is not necessarily the first place you think of when you think "START UP." But like any new born country, you need young entrepreneurs to get things to happen (or at least raise some hell on occasion to get them to happen) . Meet Kushtrim Xhakli (pronounced like "exactly"). A young Kosovar, living in Lithuania, working on his own IT company, maker of trajnimi.com, which brought free IT education to Kosovo, later recognized and picked up by the "European Computer Driver's License" program and one of the contributors to Ipko, one of the few telecom companies and foundations in Kosovo. Yea. All that, and he is 27.

I originally intended to meet Kushtrim for coffee to talk about starting an incubator program for entrepreneurs at the American University in Kosovo. What we talked about was a lot more than that, and quite revealing of the business climate, the cultural climate, the corruption, and the frustrations in Kosovo. Not to mention, Kushtrim himself had a telling story that shunned nationalisms while upholding the basic idea in life, "TO JUST LIVE AND DO!"

We begin with business. He tells me about himself. Being bored with the rather ineffective education he was getting at the University of Prishtina, he dropped out and joined some guys at Ipko, a telecom company that is among one of the most successful, young, and innovative companies. (Recently bought out by a foreign investor for over $300 million or so). Getting the chance to build a company was rare. He began to get involved with the foundation after that, and soon enough, found himself designing trajnimi.com, a free IT education platform, which brought free IT education to Kosovo under the European Computer Driver's License program, software that taught people how to use certain basic programs (Word, excel, ppt) for business. At the time, it was hard to get people to buy it. There was private competition that would not let him enter the market. Some schmoozing with some guys in Politics (this will look good for you if you get elected), and soon everyone in the country had access to this FREE program. Over 18,000 people use it today. His project got him picked up by international news and he got involved with some Lithuanian investors. Today, he runs about 5 different projects.

One of the things he tries to do is introduce third party telecom companies into Kosovo. To him, its been like beating a dead horse. Currently, telecom is in many ways controlled by the state under a group called "PTK." (PTK has been under investigation for corruption for quite some time.) PTK is the telcom and postal authority here. The infrastructure is deteriorating and cell phone use is limited to calls and texts--for the most part in the country. Compared to the rest of Europe, cell phone capability is limited. Kushtrim comes in with investors to open up new companies. Basically, PTK officials say, "No, unless you give us money for a cut that we can take, we won't let you come in." Investors leave, disheartened by the blatant corruption and organized crime within the political parties here.

Kushtrim isn't afraid to say it. He is not afraid to point out that most of the people in the government are making a lot of money and not doing good for the country. Sadly, many of the people his age, who used to be young and idealistic, are trained in the system that has taken over "politics" in Kosovo. They are just as good and trained at taking money than anybody else.

So what does he do? Kushtrim, and a community of people like him, keep pushing the issue. He keeps building his own business in Lithuania (seeing that the Balkans can learn a lot from the Baltics and vice versa). He does not leave Kosovo though. It needs people like him. Revolutionary thinkers who know how to work through the bullshit and get something done (the program under European Computer Driver's License for example).

Patriotism for a working Kosovo comes in his blood, though not along ethnic lines--this brand of ethnic nationalism captures the minds of many young people. Kushtrim's father and siblings are painters and his mother teaches Ethics. Back during the war, Kushtrim's dad printed a magazine called, "Uprising" about independent Kosovo. It was distributed in Kosovo, but when his partner was caught and killed by Serbians (Milosevic's men), the "Xhakli" name was blacklisted by those Serbs. Fellow Kosovar Albanians next door (in the neighborhood) did not protect them, but booted them out for fear of their own welfare. They fled to Macedonia then Germany in cognito.

Naturally, after such experiences, Kushtrim is far from being an "Albanian Nationalist" and has, in his mind, more important things to do than argue who was in Kosovo first--an common discourse here. Kushtrim is, however, a patriot. He needs to bring in companies, bring in investors, and get past the bullshit that is plaguing Kosovo both on the international and domestic fronts. He sees the beauty and possibility of this New born Place ("way less boring than a place like Denmark or Sweden!" as he says). He won't give up on Kosovo. He holds Kosovo and its people accountable for what is happening there now.

In the mean time, he will live a humble life that Facebook pictures won't reveal (Portugal, London, Geneva, Monte Carlo). Traveling to San Fransisco next week, he will take on the giants of "Venture Capitalists." ("Not too different from Kosovo politicans" a friend told him. He should be fine).

His advice to Kosovo? "Just DO something with your life!" Its not about serbs or albanians, its about living a decent life, regardless of who or what or where you are. DO something! CREATE something! He is a living example of alternative life, education, and credentials.

The life on the unworn track is far more interesting after all.

ICJ Decision: Thoughts

2010-07-25T05:09:00.000-07:00

July 22, 2010 marked a historic day for Kosovo when the International Court of Justice declared that Kosovo's Declaration of Independence was not illegal under international law. That night, the streets were riddled with Kosovo and Albanian flags, as youngsters partied, now having a new excuse to go to clubs on a Thursday night.

Yet, what are the implications? I sat in a cafe, watching the live proceedings on Al-Jazeera in English with my classmates, and one fascinating Serbian intellectual (who used to hang with Derrida and Foucault). The proceedings could bore anyone to sleep. Regardless, we all got beers and smoked cigarettes as if it were a sporting game. Barnaby Philips from Al-Jazeera gave commentary from a top the Grand Hotel Prishtina as if he were giving a play by play in football. The Hague looked like something out of Kafka: tall, menacing wood panels, with green felt adorning the judge's stand, and men dressed in large black robes with lace kerchiefs, an old man reading the proceedings as other judges remain silent.

Suddenly, it says on the screen that Kosovo's Declaration of Independence was legal. Cool. But we are skeptics in the audience. No statement on status? No statement on independence itself?

You see, the Court only decided on the legality of a DECLARATION of independence, not on Kosovo's status as a nation, or legality as an independent state. From the ICJ:

56. … The Court is not required by the question it has been asked to take a position on whether international law conferred a positive entitlement on Kosovo unilaterally to declare its independence or, a fortiori, on whether international law generally confers an entitlement on entities situated within a State unilaterally to break away from it. Indeed, it is entirely possible for a particular act ⎯ such as a unilateral declaration of independence ⎯ not to be in violation of international law without necessarily constituting the exercise of a right conferred by it. The Court has been asked for an opinion on the first point, not the second.

So, essentially, this was a question on a declaration, not on the rights assumed to be exercised under it.

Yet still, the BBC, Al-Jazeera and other news stations immediately slate the event as Kosovo's Independence is a legal matter itself.

Some concerns:

I wonder now, if other nations will use this as a prompt to actually declare independence, under the assumption of having a legal precedent, when in fact, the legitimacy of their statuses could be rather flawed. Meaning to say, if the declaration is legal and they take it as an exercise of the declaration is legal, what could this mean for the future of their states? To be honest, how feasible is it for the Basque region to declare independence? Did the ICJ open Pandora's box?

Next, Serbia shot itself in the foot if it was expecting a statement on status of Kosovo by asking the wrong question. They, instead, got a Kosovo Favored 10-4 response that Kosovo's declaration was legal. Naturally, asking a question on the status of Kosovo might have been premature, especially when it is such a tenuous topic in Serbia at the moment. If they have voted on the status of Kosovo, and it was favorable, would the country go into serious political discontent? Already, there is an economic system in place that is heading towards what Greece looks like, and they choose to focus on the status of Kosovo, instead of perhaps putting European integration ahead of status...

As one Serb told me upon the declaration, she was happy for Kosovo. Kosovo deserved this, but she wept for her own people. As she said, they keep on concentrating on Kosovo when we are already a poor country. They won't let it die and it is killing our nation and preventing us from joining the EU and perhaps salvaging ourselves. I want to change things in Serbia, but I'm losing a battle. Serbia, even with the ICJ decision still chooses to ignore their statement and pursue this cause of Kosovo when it is not worth it. Its a huge waste of Money. I hope to tell my children someday that I helped change Serbia, but if this hard-liner attitude keeps up, I may just tell them I left Serbia for their sake.

I weep for Serbia, not because they lost this battle, or even for losing Kosovo, but because they won't give Kosovo up and concentrate on other issues that are more in their power to change.

A Serious Cafe Experience

2010-07-21T11:44:00.000-07:00

Sitting in comfy white deck chairs, outside a Corbusier-esque building, with black window linings and Janis Joplin rockin in the background, bullshitting with some hip, well dressed college kids, you would never think that only 11 years before this place, Kosovo, would be suffering from a bloody war.

Yet despite the posh cafe environment, don't for a minute think the conversation is fluffy and as white as the furniture. I'm sitting in a cafe with my friend Gresa, and her friends, Edon, Kaltrina, and Besart. We begin talking about how cool Kaltrina's heart shaped pupils are, and about how Besart goes to school in Pittsburgh at RMU. Yet our conversation falls into something serious and honest: what is it like living in post-war Kosovo? what do you think about it?

Our conversation has trips and turns, coffees and cheesecakes. While some conversations (as we've seen) can get very Nationalistic and political in Kosovo, these level headed, visionary, brave, and extremely well dressed (!! hehe) college kids reveal what they think. They came, interested with my blog, but eager to debate a few points. I told them my frustrations, but after they gave me theirs. The dialog, abridged here, could not better sum up an honest Kosovo experience:

Me: So I told you how the bullshit, the corruption can get to anyone here in the development community. You read the blog. What do you guys think? Tell me what I should know. The table (and cheesecake is yours).

Besart (B): You get used to the Bullshit. After hanging out with the bulls for so long, you get used to it. But for me, once I left Kosovo to Pittsburgh to go to Robert Morris University, the bulls looked like ants from afar, and then once I came back, I was not used to the bull's and their shit. I was depressed for a month, wrote poetry. People just hold a lot in, get used to the bullshit, then explode on things, like the panel. At a certain point, when one thing is done well, you almost don't believe in it because all you hear about is corruption in the papers.

"You might not have seen worse, but for many people, they might not have seen better."

At this point, Edon comes in. He has a great kind New York accent, but is all about Kosovo. He does graphic design, art, and other projects. He is about images and focuses on the significance of the Albanian eagle in his analysis.

Edon: "I think if you wanna understand it, you gotta go WAY back, I mean WAY back."

We then proceed to go into milestones in history of the regions. For those of you who don't know the history, here is a brief overview of what we looked like:

"6th century, we say Serbs and Albanians meet. We, Albanians, lay cultural heritage to the Illyrians, who had been living in the area. From the white pure hats we wear, we get the name, 'Albanoid'. The Balkans have always been the site of conflict between East and West. So the mentality, of 'Protect you own because the enemy is coming' might have developed. Its not even about serbs and Albanians, its just about keeping yourself safe from any intrusion. So time passes, Slav rulers invade. Later still, the Ottomans.

"Now, our national hero, scanderbeg"

Me: "Now, who is this guy? Everyone claims him as his own! Serbs say he's serb, Albanians say he's Albanian."

Edon: "He was Albanian. When the Ottomans came, Albanians fled to the hills and 'stayed with the eagles' hence how we got the Double headed eagle"

Me: "Wasn't that also a Russian, slav symbol too?"

Edon: "I mean, sure, but its very Albanian. Our language, which we call 'Shqiptar' literally means 'Eagle'. Symbols have brought us together and united us in times of adversity. We trace this back to Scanderbeg. Fast forward. Albanians are converted to Islam in the Ottoman empire. The Ottomans are defeated, Austro-Hungary comes from the North. Nationalism is growing anyway, all over the place. Thanks to France, haha. In 1912, the serbs, Bulgarians, and others team up against the Ottomans. But Albania doesn't join the alliance. why? One, we aren't Slavic, our language is completely unrelated to ANY other language, kinda like the Georgians, the Basque people."

Gresa: "Yea, when I worked in Disney World on work-study, we used to make bets on whether or not Brazilian or Albanian was a stranger language. We won."

THE 20th CENTURY

Edon: "But once again, in 1912, Albania got its own country. Once again, this Albanian eagle arises. Once again, war strikes though in WWII, Nazi Italian occupation, you know the drill."

Besart: "Now you know how we have dark hair and aren't pure white Albanoids... haha"

Edon: " Anyways, I mean, once again, later on, Albania fights back. After the creation of Yugoslavia in the 40s, Albania is a separate country. However, a lot of Albanians are living in Kosovo, which is part of Yugoslavia. Kosovo is not a republic, but rather under Serbian control. Under Tito, things were fine, but once he died, it got back for Albanians in a Slavic nation. Everyone wanted their own nationalism. Under Serbian Milosevic in the 80s and 90s, Albanians really suffered in Kosovo.

THE 90s

"Growing up in the 90s Albanians did not have the right to go to school or use public benefits. We were marginalized. It was like Milosevic wanted us out. Cops would walk down the street, we would get scared and run away or else they would beat our parents up for fun. They wanted us to go back to Albania. "

Me: " Why?"

Edon: ....."Because they wanted more territory."

Me: "Okay, but there is more to it...."

Edon: " Of course, but this is generally speaking. Albanians were makin' a lot of kids. No Condoms back then. Only 3 kids?? Anyways, once again, the ALbanian flag comes back to keep us united and strong against others."

ON HISTORY

Me: "But up to this point you gave me landmarks, not really why things happen. You are trying to explain this Albanian unity, but history is not fact. Its the facts you choose."

Edon: " I mean, yea. But you asked about unity. This is the history. This is how we keep together. History."

Conflict

Edon: So 1994, KLA, the Kosovo Liberation Army began to fight back against oppression by Serbs headed up by Hashem Thaci. Things heat up, until 1998-1999. Now it gets bad. You know about the massacres that start international attention. Thats when shit happened.

Gresa: I remember hearing about how NATO was gonna start bombing. The war was starting. We left to Macedonia. We were refugees. I was just a kid. People were even getting killed at the border at the neutral zone. It was hard. You get through to Macedonia and the press attacked! They had not been let inside. I remember being hungry. Were you hungry?

Besart: "Day 6? I felt really shitty. Hundreds of cars were at the border, but Kaltrina's dad let us pass them."

Gresa: "I remember not sleeping for 48 hours."

Me: "Why did you think all of this was happening."

Gresa: "It was hard to say. I was young. It was hard to understand. Kosovo is rich in resources, and a lot of Albanians were actually very well educated. Before, they went abroad, like our fathers and Grandfathers, they went to Sarajevo, Zagreb, Germany, even Belgrad during Tito to learn. it was just our generation that suffered, but our parents made sure we were educated. We weren't all poor!"

Edon: "You are lucky you got out. I was stuck in Kosovo. I remember 3 months, staying in the same apartment. No food, water, electricity. My mom was fluent in serbian. She would go out, dressed up as a beautiful serbian woman and get us food. she would come back with bread. The windows, I remember, were covered so no one would know and no snipers could get us. Sometimes, paramilitaries would come, dressed in masks, cowboy hats, military gear. They would beat up your parents.

"Yet I remember during this time, I would draw a lot. I had a notebook and would draw Albanian Eagles and NATO soldiers. My mom found a drawing once. She was so angry, saying it could kill us. I still have that drawing.... "

Kaltrina: "I remember too, this first and second floor thing. We would all want to stay on the same floor together. The brave people stayed on the second floor. It was harder to get out. Also with airstrikes. It was safer below. The sky was like morning...."

Besart: "You would also never know. Your Serb neighbors would turn out to be paramilitaries. When we left to Macedonia, we were stopped by some. One turned out to be our neighbor. He helped us by telling us a better route to leave so we wouldn't get hurt."

Gresa: "Guys, Danielle and I have a paper. We should get going."

If only you were there to hear this. There is much to learn. Call it raw material for short stories, but here is text for you all in the States to chew on.

More importantly, the calm attitude. These students, sitting in a cafe in Prishtina, listening to Janis Joplin, are the future. They are my anti-bullshit factor. My anti-drug. The composure... like they were telling childhood stories.

I have much to learn from such composure.

Announcement of New "Voices" Series

2010-07-19T10:48:00.000-07:00

Suddenly realizing that more people read my blog than I imagined, I feel a higher call of duty to provide unique perspectives and stories about the people who "move" Kosovo.

This is also an attempt to amp up my own writing and chronicling of lives, people and places. I understand that my writing here has never been (and never admitted to be) professional pieces, though I definitely do all I can to present accurate facts and figures. I am, I repeat, 20 years old, not a professional journalist, but rather a person in showing pictures and places.

So. Look out for a new "WOMAN OF MANY NATIONS." Someone who does more than tweets fun tidbits, but also more mature content. More than Mom and Dad apparently read this (the blog was originally started for them to keep track of me...) I never knew the scope of my audience until now, especially in Kosovo.

Check out my new "Voices" Series. Certain posts about the lives in stories of individuals that show society. I'm not trying to do politics. I'm simply trying to show something you would not see otherwise. I'm trying to experiment with a type of writing that is not journalism, but almost contemporary story telling. I promise no more cheesy snoop dog, kanun comparisons!

Get ready!

Internal Conflict: Keeping your head with your heart in Kosovo

2010-07-18T11:25:00.000-07:00

When I try to tell my parents over Skype what I see here, the first thing they may ask "Are you safe? Don't cause trouble. Don't get hurt."

Don't get hurt.

C'mon. This is Prishtina. Generally speaking, a safer place than New Haven, CT. But sorry to report, I have been "hurt" here.

Look, I'm not going to pretend that I am "hurt" more than someone who actually experienced the war. Not for a minute. However, let me explain.

Truth be told, trying to understand a conflict is not as easy as passive observation. It takes a desire to understand suffering, hate, violence, strategy, injustice, defense, aggression, economics, politics, law, and power. To see all of this played out on a daily basis, even 11 years after the war, and 6 years after major uprisings... well, lets just say it takes its toll. It hurts the most optimistic of optimists. And I tend to be cynical.

In reaction to injustice, corruption, hatred, defensiveness, and politics, I feel a strange sense of idleness, inability, frustration. I get angry having been thrown into a room to discuss (for 9 hours each day) the politics of conflict, listening to who was hurt more, and seeing the anger and frustration between Serbs and Albanians in the classroom (some of whom had family members in the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) and had family members die either from airstrikes or people). After a while, the anger, frustration, prejudice, and politics get to you. You can no longer passively sit, watch, and understand. Unless you (as the "western observer") check your emotions from time to time, they can consume you. At a certain point, your blood boils and reason is lost. Then you realize, "Shit son! This is conflict!"

Let me explain a day in my life here to elaborate:

Friday: A panel between two journalists, one Serb, Nenad Maksimovic and one Albanian Kosovar from the BBC, Arber Vllahu, and the moderator, a Kosovar Albanian, Behar Zogiani. The panel is "supposed" to be on how to conduct ethical, unbiased journalism in a warzone.

The speech begins with Arber saying that what happened in 1999 was a "genocide." He goes into a description of his personal experience of people being tortured, and wounded.

Yea. The room gets heated. The Serb rebuts with numbers (a quick fact check follows by everyone in the room). Then, all of the Albanian Kosovars in the audience sit up in their seats, start shouting out loud at the Serb, trying to convince him it was a genocide, or ethnic cleansing. A genocide, defined by article two of the United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, is "any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such: killing members of the group; causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life, calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; [and] forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.". I am not here to tell you what I think about whether it was a genocide or not (Noam Chomsky, for instance says no). There is no UN ruling or court ruling that what happened in Kosovo was a genocide. However, the Jews in the audience are getting frustrated and upset that the "G" word is applied to something they think it is not. Everyone has a conflict, an experience, a suffering, or a side to defend. Both my friend Anastasia and I ask if the moderator could clarify the argument. He had let it go unchecked up to that point.

As the conversation continues, you get more attempts at "who was hurt more and why" in the conversation. The politics in the room are heating up and soon some of the staff of the university chime in their two bits. A lone Serbian student in the room asks for respect--it was Milosevic, not him or the journalist on the panel, who conducted the horrors of 1999.

The BBC journalist is trying to uphold his unbiased view towards news. The Serbian is trying to not be the "ugly Belgrade Milosevic lover" in the room. I get so fed up with "I AM AN UNBIASED JOURNALIST" defense that I ask about the media's role in the 2004 uprisings, where 3 Albanian kids drowned in a river. The TV blamed it on the serbs and consequently riots broke out, hundreds of churches were destroyed and people (mostly serbs) were killed or thrown out of their houses. HOW can media be unbiased in a place where Albanian flags and Serbian flags still mark territory as if Kosovo itself did not exist? I get the confession, "MEDIA IS BIASED IN KOSOVO" straight from the horses' mouths.

The question remains, "Why did I want such a confession? Why did I feel so angry at both parties for their fighting?"

I leave the room wanting to crawl under a table. My blood is boiling with a frustration, "DON'T THEY REALIZE THIS FINGER-POINTING IS WHY THEY ARE STILL SUFFERING?" I can try to empathize, but I want peace. There are frustrations running all over the place by westerners in the class who just do not know what to think or do now. When you have never had to experience war, empathy may be there, but how much do we really understand the psychology of war? Its easy for me to see this, but I did not have an uncle shot by Milosevic's guys or a church burned.

Fast forward to later in the day. I'm already sweating bullets. I'm riding a cab to a group of Serbian refugees who live in shipping containers (and have for 11 or 6 years, 1999 or 2004 being the move-in date). They sit on their "porches" and usually share cigarettes, jokes, and grievances. Most are old Serbs, still fighting land disputes with Albanians.

One woman, Toni Schmilka, has been there for 6 years. In 2004, a group of Albanians brutally beat up her husband and kicked them out of their apartment. Today, an Albanian lives there. When her husband went back later (even to collect bills in his name there...), he fought with the Albanian. He had a heart attack in his car from the stress, and died. Toni is now fighting a legal battle for the land, but all of the judges are on vacation and there are way too many cases like hers for anything to happen quickly.

The refugees may have families in Serbia, but they do not live with them. Many of the refugees are older, very sick, in need of medicine, and more. They do not go hungry but eat moldy bread. They cannot get jobs. Even Kosovar Albanians cannot get jobs when 40% of the population is unemployed, and its worse for Serbs. Soon, KEK, the Kosovar power plant will start charging them for electricity. KEK does not employ Serbs and will be privatizing soon, so no hand outs to Serbs. The Serbian government does nothing for them. The Ministry of Returns and Refugees in Kosovo does nothing.

All I could do for these guys was share some fancy Djarum cigarettes I brought for them. Its about the nicest thing someone has done for them in a while. I didn't want to make any more empty promises.

The thing that angered me even more was the man with 7 children who moved there 3 months ago because of a land dispute with a brother serb. He was shouting at his wife and demanding that my russian friend Anastasia get Russia to do something for them. His daughter was dying of brain cancer.

So I sat there, angry at the Serbs, the Kosovars, the Albanians, the Serbian government, this asshole who could not take care of his 7 kids, all the while, this blind girl dying of a brain tumor traced the lines of my Orthodox cross bracelet. She pulls me close to her and kisses my cheek when I leave. I look at the eyes of a Canadian girl with me. The sense of inability, confusion, and frustration was enough to make me call a cab early and leave.

Later that day, a man came up to me in a cafe, shouting at me in Albanian. I didn't know what to do. Later, I found out that he was upset that I was an Albanian who did not speak Albanian. That I was forsaking my people. That I should be ashamed at my inability to connect to my people. I had enough.... I told him I was an American so he should just speak English to me or leave me alone. Apparently I look like an Albanian.

Later again, a man grabbed my sweater in the street and I screamed at him. I suddenly was filled with so much rage.

I can only tell you that later that night, someone asked me what I was doing in Kosovo. I was too emotional to answer. Even to someone I love, I lashed out, "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT! I FEEL SO FRUSTRATED I CAN'T TAKE IT HERE! I HATE THE POLITICS! I HATE THE LACK OF ABILITY! I HATE THE ALBANIAN NATIONALISM! I HATE THE SERBIAN INABILITY TO HELP THEIR OWN REFUGEES! I CANNOT STAND THE POLITICS OF EVERY CONVERSATION! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE SO DON'T ASK!"

Later, I calmed down. I realize what I was doing. I was beginning, ever so small and minutely, to understand conflict. I was understanding pieces in the chess puzzle of conflict, and not just as another law student studying Kosovo from afar, but as a human being.

I started writing a short story.

How do you keep a mind and heart in check? How do you keep your head when conflict and violence are not there "to make things clear," but rather confusion, frustration, nationalism, hate, prejudice, and pain that you don't understand? I had been feeling these things and the fact that I felt them scared me.

I realized that I would have to continue observing, feeling, hurting, but making sure to keep my perspective. I really am learning something and understanding some of the most ugly and beautiful interactions we humans must face.

I know I have not expressed every "side" here, or everyone's experience. I have listened to the grievances of Albanians from the time before 1999. I have visited Reycak and seen the graves of the massacre there. I have listened to Serbs talk about their houses being burnt down and their husbands beaten to death in 2004. I have listened to Albanians tell me about how they watched their families killed in front of their eyes by the hands of Milosevic's army.

It hurts me. I cannot deny it. Of course not as much as they have. The first problem a "third party" faces is the feeling of inability, the feeling of the need to take sides in order to "help." Feeling these frustrations, seeing the suffering, all of this hurts you. You can't understand why they cannot understand that these ethnic hatreds are what perpetuate conflict. Yet at the same time, you know they that even though they may know this, psychology is a funny thing. Death and war does hard things to the mind. Hurt continues.

What I have written here has not come to any conclusion on "who was right and who was wrong." I only wanted to show the mental difficulty of all sides in trying to move on (or understand) after conflict. This is written for those abroad, who have not seen such things as Kosovo. Those Kosovars here, (whether you are Albanian, Serb, Turk, or Egyptian), please understand that I do not want to take sides. I only want to show something to those at home that this conflict is not so easy as they may think. I'm sorry if I have offended anyone, I do not mean to. I am sorry for what has happened to you. I will empathize, but never enough for what you truly deserve. Yet you have a heavy and hard job now to make peace. Change history. Just because fighting happened before, does not mean it has to continue. I have faith in you.

Snoop Dog and the Kanun

2010-07-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

" No one in my clique fails
As females with the almighty Father lead
Succeedin' ta give my peep's just what they need
And it ain't no party like this kind,
Cause you can leave your worries behizzind " ---Snoop Dogg, "The Doggfather"

With lyrics like this, I could not help but think that Kosovo was the perfect place for an artist like Snoop Dogg to visit.

Yes. Y'all hear me. Snoop D double O G came to Prishtina on July 10th with Z mobile. After .50 cent made an appearance last summer, Kosovo has been bringing a lot of older generation rap artists to Kosovo.

Now, Kosovo, as you all know, and Albania for that matter has always been stereotyped as a place of corruption, the mafia, pretty women, and big parties that made The Boston Globe vote Prishtina the "ugliest and most fun capital in Europe." (March 21, 2010). Basically, there is a culture here of good drinks, good clubs, sexy women, horny men, and maybe even an admiration for the mafia culture (family, blood, money).

This family, blood culture (both mentioned above and in Snoop Dogg's gangsta lyrics) recalls to me the Kanun of Lekë Dukagjini, an ancient code of Albanian law dating back to the Bronze Age, whose four main "pillars" are

1) Honor

2) Hospitality

3) Right Conduct

4) Kin Loyalty.

The Kanun also permits a practice of Gjakmarrja, a blood feud or revenge where a family member can kill someone for some sort of dishonor or death of a relative even generations before. This creates (or comes from) a very close knit, almost mafia culture itself.

So Snoop Dog. Albanians here must be diggin his sounds. So, I go to the concert for 10 Euros. The place is hopping. A haze of cigarette smoke covers the crowd (a Ferrari with free Winston cigarettes was parked outside). Lots of boozin and lawlessness, though they did pat me down and search my purse quite seriously.

I stand in the crowd and listen to a ton of other Kosovar artists (one just holding a mic to do "O! O!" voice overs to Lil Wayne and Snoop Dogg). After all of this and a bunch of call and response, an hour after the opening acts, Snoop comes on, singing a lot of his old 90s hits.

When the crowd gets a bit tired, he says, "I know what is goin make y'all jump around!" Cue the song, "Jump Around." Snoop Doggy Dog brings out an Albanian flag, making all of the ethnic Albanian Kosovars freak out in delight. A mosh pit erupts.

Later on, Kosovars give him a "Kosova" flag and shirt, making the lyric true,

I'm a gangsta, but y'all knew that
Da Big Bo$$ Dogg, yeah I had to do that
I keep a blue flag hanging out my backside
But only on the left side, yeah that's the Crip side
Ain't no other way to play the game the way I play
I cut so much you thought I was a DJ" ----Snoop Dog's "Drop it Like Its Hot"

A gangsta kid comes on stage and the delight trifecta is complete: Kids, Kosova, and Albania.

Snoop Dog ends up speaking about how "I Love Kosovo, its a beautiful country and whenever you Muthaf***ers want me back, I'm here yall. If all you hatas don't like it, you can just f**k off!"

I really think he is an Albanian Kosovar, or maybe this whole country just thinks that they are all Crips.

"The Sun Rises in the West"

2010-07-07T04:56:00.001-07:00

When the UN and NATO sought to create a stable multi-ethnic society in Kosovo, I don't know if they envisioned a multi-national society as it is now. Walking down the streets, you see more Norwegian NATO, American lawyers, Austrian bankers, and Turkish businessman more often than not. An Albanian once joked with me, "Because I'm an Albanian, I am a minority here." Talk to many Albanian Kosovars here, and they will tell you they like the international presence. They are thankful for it. As the joke goes, "The Sun rises in the west for Albanians." The society here attempts to adopt the styles, the fashions, the look and feel of the West (whether by choice or by the forces of internationalization of the region... you choose).

In reality, UNMIK, EULEX, and K-FOR sought to create a multi-ethnic society where the Albanians, Serbs, Bosniaks, Turks, Christians and Muslims could live in peace. Generally, society is getting along with help of international security and heavy policing, but some ethnocentrism and blood feuds from the war and ongoing conflict remain. For instance, the divided city of Mitrovica, where Serbs live in the North of the central bridge and Albanians live in the South, there is still ethnic violence. A few days ago, a grenade went off killing one. Ethnic tensions still exist, even as a lot of the population westernizes or caters to international expectations.

All of the ethnic divides in a NATIONAL population of around 2 million are a cause for concern for the population living there. Can 2 million people of different faiths, ethnicities, and historical antipathy towards one another really live together as such distinct identities? To many, the answer is no. The result? The government tries to homogenize some of the most obvious outliers of the population. They try to ban Muslim headscarves first of all from public places. The result? A huge protest of 1,000 people wearing traditional Muslim garb. Two days ago, a Kosovar Serb Parliamentarian went to North Mitrovica to convince the Serbs there (still living under Serbian flags, Serbian money, and no license plates), to accept Kosovo's legitimacy and government and was consequently shot in the leg.

Trying to force the population under a single identity is not easy. Clearly.

One wary taxi driver once told me, "We have to be the same. We cannot have one foot in the West, one arm in Islam, one head in Albania, one leg in Austria, one hand in Serbia, and this idea that we are still Kosovo. It is not possible."

Can Kosovo be a multicultural America with such a small population? As they say here, "What to do..." No question mark.

PS Keep your eye out on my piece of Journalism about Serbian Refugees.

The 51st State and the 4th of July

2010-07-05T12:09:00.000-07:00

Many people ask me about the culture in Prishtina. While I cannot speak for the greater Kosovo area, I can give you a glimpse into life here:

On any given weekday, you can walk down the main boulevard to see plastic seals, gummy balls, and corn being sold to young mothers in flashy clothing holding finicky two year olds. Young tween girls flock arm in arm in excessive amounts of what looks like Limited Too pink gear. Boys in embroidered jeans and high maintenance hair styles stare at me. Women who look like Ke$ha trip in high heels. Many people sip tasty macchiatos in outdoor cafes, while young professionals from around the world carry backpacks and speak loudly in English. Kosovo is a poor country, judging by the high numbers of brand new Mercedes Benz SUVs, BMWs, and even VWs. Store fronts boast "AMERICAN CLOTHES" and "VICTORY FASHIONS" with flashy made up women as models. Streets are cracking and old buildings in the center of the city still stand. Inserted in the cracks are pieces of American capitalism gone a little haywire.

Despite being a generally poor country, everyone is decked out in many accessories that begs a sort of western acceptance. As one Albanian joked with me, "We albanians are minorities here. Everyone is either a foreigner or wants to be one."

This is accurate. On the 4th of July, I celebrated with hundreds of other Kosovars, listening to local artists on a main stage that had an American flag waving proudly, with the words "Hello America" on a poster with the statue of liberty behind the stage. Everyone stood back as camera crews took up the closest spots to the stage (a good 15ft by 15 foot square). The broadcast was certainly for someone else. I had "Enchiladas ala bil clinton" at the "Route 66" cafe. There were fireworks and celebrations. Even the Canadians, Dutch, and Swedish Ex-pats were celebrating.

On a banner nearby, there flew the Albanian flag, the American flag, the Kosovar flag, the British flag, and the Italian flag. Another building was waving the Swedish flag. Viennese chocolates are sold in grocery stores and Turkish Borek and Doner is everywhere. Don't forget the mosques and the ladies in hijab. Like any good European country, Kosovo too is trying to ban the veil--though protests fueled with 1000s of Muslim veiled women, men in beards, and foreign money take to the streets.

Where is Kosovo? Where is the "culture"? Call it what you will, but in many ways, it is a bit of a mini capitalist Epcot center, where the culture is an amalgamation of cultures, dollars, and music tastes.

Another New Kosovo

2010-06-25T16:17:00.000-07:00

Last year, my impressions of Kosovo were as follows: war torn country with the UNHCR in the middle of town, KFOR walking around, NATO with their guns, empty streets with a clear view of Mother Teresa and Bill Clinton, optimistic youngsters with new business plans, disco-disco clubbing girls, a multi-ethnic society, the world's best kept legal secret (well, obviously not so secret, but for students, hell yea!).

In some ways, my impressions still hold true, but there are many things I see completely different, having changed, or just a difference nuance that I did not see.

A list (I like lists) of new or different things:

--Prishtina has busy streets, no lie. I was here on the weekend last summer (no one is out on weekends) so I never really saw a busy city.

--NATO is leaving, so not as many guys with guns (though some Portuguese NATO/KFOR guys did try to pick my friend and I up today. As Anastasia, my hard as nails/soft as cotton/funny as hell filmmaker, journalist Canadian Russian buddy, says, Prishtina may not be quite as "badass" without NATO, but it definitely does not feel like a warzone anymore. This is the general consensus of most journalists who are packing up for Gaza, Afghanistan, or Iraq... and Turkey.

--Not every man looks like they are on the Yugoslavian basketball team, despite some people thinking so.

--Muslim Fundamentalism is on the rise.

--Kosovo feels even safer than it did last year. Not only that, it is safer. The economy may be corrupt, but the crime rate in Prishtina is lower than most American cities.... though keep your wallet in check. This rate could just be that the retired NATO officers living here know how to keep their shit together (forget Boca Raton, Prishtina is cheaper and more interesting to retire to).

--Albanians are a minority in a sea of Canadians, Americans, Germans, and international acronyms. Like the Jews and Israel, there may be more Albanians in NYC than there are in Albania or Kosovo.

Naturally, there are many new things I am encountering. Like any new kid to town, my eyes are starry eyed and I look inquisitively at everything. More "enlightened" analysis will come later as I begin my mile high stack of books in my new apartment here. Thought I would give the update though.....

Simply put. Mom, I'm safe.

A Woman of ALL Nations (or no nation)

2010-06-23T06:55:00.000-07:00

In the West, we hypothesize about why the conflict in the Balkans happened: the rise of Nationalism, the strive or ethnic independence, ethnic supremacy, da da da (as they say here), but talking to locals who have been displaced by the war gives you a different insight, naturally.

The first was my hostel/homestay host in Mostar, Bosnia. She was a Catholic, married to a Muslim, displaced to Croatia and then Norway (because a Muslim last name just did not work out in Croatia). She was explaining the war to me in terms of sides. She however could not explain to me how or why these sides developed. As she said, "It was confusing. No one knew what was going on. I just knew to leave .

Here in Kotor, Montenegro, I met a Bosnian woman from Banja Luka (she was the hostel manager). We got to talking. When I asked her what nationality she was, she said, "Nationality? I am a woman of the world. I just happened to be in Montenegro, but I'm from Bosnia. If I felt like living in Spain I would. You need to stop thinking of nationality. People who thought of that were stupid. "

I asked her how she got here, she said she was on holiday here then the NATO airstrikes began and should could not get back to Banja Luka, so she opened up shop as a hairdresser and a clothing maker. As she said, "Forget what you know. Nationalism or politics. All that matters, just in case is what you can do with your hands."

I asked her what she thought had happened and why it happened (a broad question I know, but I wanted to keep her talking. She was very bright and enthusiastic to talk about this, unlike others I have met here). As she said, "Yugolavia was a beautiful thing, but then this whole WW2 fright got in the way. The Croatians started wearing symbols that scared others. If they had not been allowed to remind us (the children of a scarred generation) of this suffering, then we would have been okay. But no, the get Milosevic in and they ordered a war. Who? I don't know. Its not Nationalism its MONEY. We did not cause this war. Someone else did. Someone said, "Okay, 60,000 people will die, we will focus on the Bosniaks, go!" and that is what happened. It was money. Why else is Russia invested in Montenegro, or Italy in Croatia, or the US in Kosovo? Others dividied it up. Someone ordered a war. Yugoslavia was strong."

She continued her distaste for nationalism, humanitarianism, etc. "Humanitarian workers were all young, like you, and had money. They all just sat in fancy houses with electricity, when we had none. They could not help except with a bottle of water. That is all."

As she said, "Memory is a scary thing. Nationalism was dangerous, but people are stupid. We were beautiful united. It is not stopping me. I am a woman of this planet."

Whether I agree or not, I do agree with her last statement.

War Tourism: Why Does this Feel Wrong Again?

2010-06-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

When I got off the plane at Sarajevo, there is one thing running through my head, "How war torn is it going to be??" This is an unfair sort of thing to think perhaps, but being an American who has not seen the ravages of war first hand (other than in Kosovo perhaps), but has always seen it on TV, this "wanna see the war" mentality is almost like a sickening craving.

I get into a cab, and yes, the war is visible: holes in concrete where mortar shells hit, empty buildings, ruins, mass grave sites with white markers etc. Many things one would expect to see from the horrible 1992-1995 siege of Sarajevo by Serbs. (Only a few years after the Olympics in Sarajevo in 1984). My eyes fixated on those things, maybe instead of realizing the Mango, the Sisley, the Mazda dealer, the restaurants, and the bustling traffic, all very orderly.

When I get to the hostel, I encounter other travelers, begging to see the Tunnel where Bosnians smuggled goods, weapons, and people during the war. All talking about how much a disappointment certain places are because they don't have "real" handicrafts. (What, you don't like that plastic AK-47 souvenir? Let me give you a real one... But by the way, I've seen the same silk scarf in Egypt, Bosnia, China, and Turkey at this point, all claiming to be "hand made") Basically, people are trying to show each other up on who has a more "authentic cultural experience."

It got me to thinking, and writing this piece as a drank Bosnian coffee: now, is "culture" being bought and sold just like pollution credits, cigaretts, cars, and the United Colors of Benetton? So what is a world traveler to do? Suddenly culture is lost in not a "cultural" discovery, but an "economic" one--lets go see war, poverty--things we can't afford (in many ways other than what you are thinking).

Suddenly a journey means seeing that which is war torn, then saving it. If we are beyond the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, I would call this one the Age of Mechanical Reconstruction of culture, where culture is reproduced, reconstructed, bought and sold.

You know when you come to Sarajevo, you want to see and hear of war and bullet holes and mines. There is something more exotic about that than seeing maybe a Hawaiian hula girl or eating real Chinese food. Especially us young folk, we like to feel suspicious of the land we visit, trying to show one another up on who did what more dangerously by embellishing just, "How war torn Sarajevo was" or "how strange it was they have not repaired the bullet holes" when meanwhile, it is not "as bad" as we make it out to be. In fact, its safer than small town America at 10:00 at night.

The American mentality loves to find reasons to be paranoid. There is something foreign about domestic war (and even poverty). After all, we really haven't seen war since the Civil war. So that is ages (even before the real hit of "The Age of Mechanical Reproduction.") Other than pearl Harbor, 9/11 and maybe some domestic terror like Oklahoma City, we really have not seen as much as we like to imagine with our American paranoia. Instead, we have bred maybe a sicker kind of warfare of mind, drug, sex---not to mention the types of meth lab crimes and sick things you hear about that go on in the American west (tying up people in a house and watching them die?)

In our paranoia, we almost crave to see and point out the perversion of the rest of the world. We crave to point out how sad, poor, desperate everyone else is. (Why else do you watch ET or Inside Edition? You want to see some crisis fabricated. Don't get me started on Lifetime).

Should we be ashamed of our obsession with this "war tourism" or "poverty tourism" that goes on so much? Perhaps. Yet maybe before we judge others, we should look what is happening to people in downtown Brackenridge, PA.

Will I stop being cautious, paranoid, or interested in the "warzone?" No. Its almost as American as apple pie. I run into travelers here with no fear, until their purse is stolen. I am cautious, but I have fun too (it did not stop me from befriending some fellow travelers and going to certain "warzone" areas with them.. after all, its better to not be alone and be with a Mexican guy who went to Penn or a Canadian doctor).

Well, ready to take on Montenegro and Croatia. In one day. Holla.

Globalization by Bikram

2010-06-19T02:28:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I happened upon a woman who, as she describes herself, is "a freelance English and Bikram Yoga teacher." She said she had taught Yoga in LA, New York, Marseilles, Nepal, Indonesia, Dubai, and Vienna. Currently, she was helping to open a new studio here in Wien (Vienna, btw).

This morning, I took up her offer of a lesson. Early morning in Vienna and NO one is on the street. This city is very calculated and runs on a clock. Go out at 11:00, leave the streets by 6:00. Etc. So I decided to go, sans the sports bra I left at home, foolishly.

First of all, the studio smells like cardamom, my favorite. The lady is very kind and offers me help in choosing a mat and some towels. Unfortunately, I go into the men's changing room because I cannot read German. Oh well.

We go into the HOT studio, as Bikram is hot. About 15 minutes in, I'm already DRIPPING in sweat, and so is everyone else. The work out is both mental and physical and it is damn good. Everyone from young people to old people do it, and everyone at their own pace. For the most part, everyone was in really good shape, and everyone had to sit down at one time or another to just rest. When the instructor opened the windows on occasion, I relished in the fresh air.

Funny enough, the instructor was not too zen, but speaking in strong German, (with english for me). Imagine that sounds and clapping of a high upper school PE teacher. Everyone is sweating and at this point, everyone is in little undies and bras. You don't give a shit after a while.

Later, when its all said and done, I feel refreshed. I get some tea and apples and sit in the group. surprisingly, I was very relaxed and not in pain. (Currently I just feel a little weak, why I am sitting down before I continue to sight see).

A mother/daughter pair living in Vienna but from California start talking with me, telling me there is Bikram all over the world, even in Sarajevo! The guy, Bikram from LA created the exercises that work your thyroid, pancreas, and not to mention muscles and mind. He trains people and sends them all over the world. The sequence is the same, as is the exercise, so basically you get the same thing (with slight variations) wherever you go. I might have to try it in Sarajevo and Israel. Maybe I'll get one started in Kosovo, haha. For 10 Euros, I got all of that (including my free breakfast), and a free session tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM. I might go...

After my chat with those ladies, I went to the correct dressing room.... Now, you cannot have body issues in a European Gym. Communal showers, nudity, and no "stalls" change that. So I just went at it naked.

Words of wisdom for first time Bikram people: (Mom! Listen up!)

--Bring the littlest pair of shorts and a sports bra. Everyone, even the fat people, will have one on.

--Bring extra clothes, two towels, and shower supplies. You NEED to shower after this.

--Do NOT eat before this. Wake up and go. No coffee.

--Drink a bottle of water before you go. During, you cannot drink water for the first 25 minutes of the 90 minute routine.

--Have no shame.

--Be in half decent shape before you go. Bikram is for everyone, but come on, you should be able to at least sit in a warm room for 90 minutes.

--Don't give up. Have a mentally calm attitude and just don't think about it when you cannot do a perfect pose.

--Have fun.

Namaste.

Wien-ing in exhaustion, but loving every minute.

2010-06-18T09:24:00.000-07:00

Have not slept in nearly 28 hours, will be brief.

LOVE Vienna. Mostly because of the people. Major props to Cathrin for picking me up at the McDonalds and taking me to a hostel to drop my pack.

Things done and impressions made:

-St. Petersburg looks like Vienna. Or Vienna looks like St. Petersburg. One of the two.

-Smoking.

-Met another American girl (should say woman), Hillary. Turned out to be from Colorado, but she has been abroad for about 8 years teaching English and Yoga (from France, to Nepal, to Dubai, to Vienna... hoping to settle in France). Guess who is doing Bikram Yoga in the morning... in Vienna. Moi. Score. Hopefully I will sleep.

-There is donor and kebab everywhere. Its like a flirting fascination with their former Ottoman borders never left them. Serbs running in the streets after beating Germany. The wild wild east is at the doorstep here and it is felt with every step.

-Everyone obeys the rules. I felt bad for jaywalking. The subway system is an honors system. No turnstall, you just swipe and walk through a gate with no door. Everything is timed perfectly like a Swiss (or Austrian) watch.

-Mozart tried picking me up on the street. Or rather MozartS. They all wanted to take me to a concert at this grand hall, a la Mozart, period dress and all. Though one did try to invite me to an Irish pub. I didn't think Mozart liked the Irish.

-Met some other girls from vancouver who just graduated college. They had been to Bosnia and told me not to worry. And they are blond and beautiful. (Look mom! I'm alive!)

-I saw the human rights project exhibition put up by Lukas Maximillian Hueller, the same guy I wrote my Paul Bloom 7 Deadly Sins thesis on. I feel like emailing Lukas and telling him I'm in his neighborhood.

My thoughts are about disjointed as my physicality. You try carrying 14 kilos and feeling normal! Good night (or good nap). I'm wide awake now but exhausted. ? Question Mark ?

Woman in Her (?) Nation, of cars, cigarettes, and cellulite

2010-06-12T09:20:00.000-07:00

About 15 miles from my own home, there is the border to a different land. A land of car racing, monster trucks, fatty foods, clay dirt, obesity, and "freedom."

Welcome to my evening at Lernerville Speedway. Accompanying are the L's, our family friends from the city (censored name for their privacy). After having a "box" (or just a roof with some metal chairs) at Lernerville for years and never having actually visited, we decided to go with the Lesoons for some country car romping. We have a car (who we only supply tires to), a driver, a sign with our name on it--none of what I knew we ever even had. My dad prefers movies and the Steelers, to cars and dirt.

As we look for our seats, mom is concerned her espadrilles are getting dirty and she clearly is overdressed. I'm getting glaring looks as I walked up the old wooden bleachers to our box seat. Is my purple dress too purple? Older men with their buttoned shirts have sleeves rolled up to look like old time greasers. I see boys with little hair tails and girls who are 12 smoking cigarettes. An incredibly obese woman in nude colored cotton pants blocks the stairway to my "box" filled with metal chairs.

As Mrs. L is an audiologist, she has us outfitted with proper earwear. Having a conversation is futile when you can't hear and don't know sign language. How is that cute little 17 year old on a date here with his girl? They can't talk!

In between races, we actually bring up conversations: Courtney L. with a boy who is the son of our driver. He knows how to replace transmission and he is like 9. Mom has a man offer her some sausage. Mrs. L chats up with the boy in front of us (the son of the guy who does our towing). He is very polite, telling us in his country pittsburgh accent about how last week a guy caught on fire! He says, "Yea!" after every question mom asks.

Courtney and I leave and pass up the beer hut next to the port-a-potties and dodge cans that fall from the bleachers above us (people throw them under their seats). Little kids have big ear protection on as they watch the big kids (9-10 year olds) play football. A man sticks a wad of chew-tobaccky in his mouth. I'm stared at as if I was a dead woman walking, from a time in the distant future who has died and come back. Is it the ugg sandals (like Birkenstocks of yuppies) or my curly hair (which every other girl straightens and dyes blonde in these parts...)

Later, Courtney and I sit on the roof of her Jeep and look out at the clay dirt in the night sky that has been kicked up by the homemade cars that are going in circles.

Sometimes I forget where I live. Sometimes we all forget what our country is composed of. Regardless, we all need to remember that somewhere in farm town USA, on any given friday in June, there are car races that are keeping these communities from boredom and keeping America a family affair.

In Finland. Where Everyone is Blonde.

2010-03-09T01:54:00.000-08:00

Finally. Out of the abyss I call February, where no one sees the light of day and no one smiles. Despite Valentine's Day or the fact that it is the shortest month of the year, still---no consolation. February Sucks.

But. Back to my calling. The open sky. The open road. The open world. (Or at least when you have your Russian visa). However, je divague.

Preface: I'm going to Russia with Misha, Evin, and.... Alex. If he was here. He didn't get his visa in time and is stuck in New York. I am on Spring Break and finally free... for two weeks.

I'm in Finland on my 3-4 hour layover. If there ever was a perfect place, an Aryan utopia, this might be it. The airport is spotless. The architecture has sharp and beautiful angles. The couches are either dirty white, off white, or beige (as Evin insists). The landscape is flat, though picturesque. This big building is near empty. (Helsinki only has half a million people). There is no music playing. No loudspeaker. There is stoic silence that adds to the chic nature of the women walking around with thick black sunglasses, Longchamp bags, and delicate Finnish speech. There is an accuracy in every angle and the color scheme could not be more spot on.

If people think Scandinavia is the ideal, I can see why. Everyone is just beautiful, well dressed, and has a sense of color in their design and clothing.

Even the off white (beige?!?) couches match the landscape.

Excuse me while I got pour perfume on myself at a duty free shop. I need to shower.

Keep an eye on it---- what does that mean?

2010-01-26T18:58:00.000-08:00

While I was breaking bread with the dead, reading Cicero, and y'know, being a Yale student (how ridiculous that sounds sometimes in the 21st century!), someone asked me, "Can you keep an eye on my computer for me?" I of course replied, "Of course!" However, what does this even entail?

I've often wondered about the Good Samaritan principle in American culture. Do we really look out for each other and make sure that no one steals the other one's stuff? I have a hard time getting someone to hold a door for me, let alone getting someone to make sure some stranger doesn't steal my computer. So the question arises, "Should I even ask? Would they do it anyway?"

Next question: Would someone stop someone from stealing my computer? Would they scream, "Stop thief!" or would they quietly report it to police and take down a composite drawing of the culprit. Would they take responsibility for letting someone take my computer? Or would they say, "It wasn't my responsibility, get a security tracker."

These things I have often times wondered. Hold on, I have to keep my eye on this black HP PC laptop... even though I really have to go get Claire's cake with Misha right now....

Definitions of History

2010-01-18T20:35:00.000-08:00

As supplied by my lovely cast for the show I am currently directing, "The History Boys," I supply you with definitions of History. Enjoy. This is my way of calming down.

"History is an ejaculation over the pages of antiquity." -Gabe P.

"History is cunt-struck." - no comment.

"History is my middle name." -Raph S.

"History is an amalgamation of every text that was sent last night." -Matt HH.

"History is things that happened." -Tom Sa.

"History is the foreskin of truth." Gabe P.

"History is the opposite of prophecy." -Peter K.

"My chlamydia is history. I swear!" -Tom St.

"History is my anti-drug." -James D.

"History is a terrorist attack on the pillars of modernity." -Amina Z.

"History is his tree." - Alex Kr.

"History is two big tits of antiquity." Group...

"History is a myth. The Truman show is real and I am the star." Lizzie D.

"History is a large purple walrus with a mustache." Alex Kr.

"History is what remains when the music stops and all the confetti is swept away." Alex Kl.

"History is stories of the past seen through the lens of the present." Jesse K.

"American Apparel, Urban Outfitters and Lady Gaga are all History, I hope." Tom St.

"History is fucking." Dakin

"History is women following behind with the bucket." Mrs. Lintott

And, our favorite.

"History is one fucking thing after another." Rudge.

What is your definition of history?

Creeping Evangelism

2010-01-02T23:08:00.001-08:00

Last night, I almost peed my pants in fright in what I thought were the white lights of an alien invasion--which I saw out my window. Upon further inspection, which took a lot of bravery mind you, I deduced that these were the lights of a new steeple in an Evangelist Baptist church, three hills away from my home hill.

The lights are creeping in.

Perhaps as punishment for my apparent liberalism (I go to Yale), I come home to churches that turn me away three times: once at the parking lot, once at the door, and once at the chapel door. Yet, While I'm not turned away by my sins (I hope not), I'm turned away by the sheer fact that the place is overcrowded. Game over. Asimov's population scheme has counted me out. I didn't jump on the mothership in time so now I'm stuck at the doors, while the lights keep teasing me with their LEED glare.

It seems that when I go to Yale, I'm a conservative. I come home, and suddenly I get phone calls from local churches telling me to find Christ because apparently, I haven't. I can find him without standing outside of your doors. I found my Christ reading the Torah, the OT and NT, and the Qu'ran. If you want to throw in the Book of Mormon, you can. Do I really need another Christ?

But dude, guess who was voted most likely to become a televangelist in high school? moi. I have a fascination with these networks. Mormons. Muslims. TV Evangelists. Sufis. Faith Healers. Evangelists. This past week one of the famous Tele-vangelists, Oral Roberts, died. Defining the Word on the Tube is thanks to this guy. Thousands came to the funeral. These guys are not just brilliant speakers, but excellent business men. If there is something more American than tele-vangelism, someone tell me.

So as my East coast life become more and more riddled with the thoughts of "Socialists" (see the conservative side of the family...), my mid-Atlantic life is slowly being surrounded by steeples that refuse entry... because of fire codes. (or maybe the "liberalism" i'm around, but don't necessarily ascribe to).

Call the death of Oral Roberts the death of a generation, of a movement. I'm not sure about that.I almost backed into the window of the "Christian Evangelist Economic Expansion Center" today. Apparently they "Spread the celery seed." I almost spread their celery seed alright...

New Decade

2009-12-31T21:58:00.000-08:00

By this time next decade, I will be 29.

Scary. *shivers* Maybe I'm shivering because the house is 64 degrees. Mom likes it cold, especially when we come back from 90 degree weather in DR.

Regardless (while I hold back on talking about the three times I was turned away from church), I am still looking back at this decade with my own memories, perhaps a little influenced by the NYT photo reel from the last 10 years that I just watched.

So, things I remember from this decade:

1) Y2K. Nothing like a some paranoia of the occult 90's to bring in the most turbulent decade I have ever seen (emphasis on the "I"), where fears were far beyond the occult and became more orientalist.

2) I turned 10. Say hello to TWO digits.

3) Believe it or not, as a 10 year old, I almost cried when I thought Al Gore won. Hey. I grew up on a farm. And I was 10. I did not vote!

4) 9/11/2001. I was in Mr. Ferra's (?) science class in 6th grade at Highlands (one of the ONLY memories I have of that place...). Our vice principal came in and turned on a television. I watched the second plane crash into the second tower. Mom came and picked me up from school and I watched army helicopters fly over the house. Where did they come from and why did they fly so low? I was afraid, but more confused. I cried for people I did not know and began to understand the meaning of patriotism.

5) I remember seeing American flags out of every car window.

6) Watching your country invade the area of the world you would soon become more fascinated with than anything... even Barbies... is often times life shaking. In my 11 year old heart, I shook with a strange feeling of righteousness and uneasiness. They deserved it? Yes? Or were we just doing this all wrong? I could not decide. I don't know if I still can will the same strong conviction so many "seem" to have. I remember the green of the night vision goggles.

7) I went to my first school dance. I still remember the smell and some large plump girl (my age, and already having sex) offering my a cigarette. I didn't smoke it. And didn't for a looooooong time.

8) Blink 182 and Greenday came into my life, like some blast from the 90s. I loved it. I think?

9) I became a teenager. I'm now finishing out my last year of that madness.

10) HARRY POTTER, the MOVIE.

11) I remember the space shuttle crumbling.

12) They caught Saddam. I wrote an article to my local newspaper about how reporters should stop talking about Saddam's favorite snacks (Cheetos) and start telling me valuable information--true article. True Story. (Later in the decade I got a blog. Much better for voicing opinions than that local Newspaper... thought I got a lot of positive feedback!)

13) WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!!!!

14) I get accepted to Ellis. I feel like I have just gotten into Yale. Up to that point in my life, best moment ever. Determined much of what my life would become.

15) Again, I cheer when Bush wins, but a little more wearily. Ellis was rocking my world.

16) Freshman year, I learn that Aztecs did bloodletting rituals by piercing their penises. Thank you Dr. Bedell.

17) I read East of Eden and suddenly the world of literature opens its arms and gives me a big hug. The world of Academia squeezes me to death for the next 6 years.

18) I get a Myspace. Gross!

19) I meet Fahima Vorgetts and suddenly I'm helping Afghan Women and Girls by raising money for a school building for them. I set up a club at Ellis that still exists today and funds the girls with computers. Something in me changes as I find a direction for myself.

20) Hurricane Katrina. Was it true that global warming did it? I worked on building a money collection at my school to send in to Hurricane victims. I felt so helpless against nature. Environmentalism was nipping at my toes, urging me to do something.

21) This was the decade of causes wasn't it? I attend anti-genocide rallies. Host teas for Afghan Girls. Raise money for Katrina victims. Go to anti-war protests. I was quite a little liberal... even before I could drive. I would say I'm a little more right now and a little more informed, but there is something inside me that yearns for those days of freedom and beauty, when a protest could ACTUALLY change my world and the answer to such problems was as simple as a rally. I have a higher calling now.

22) I run off to Spain. There are bombings in Valencia. Mom is afraid. Beginning of my life.

23) I drive. Hallelujah.

24) My grandmother dies. For the first time, death is a strong reality. My life is shut down in Junior Year Academia. I go into the role of Vivian Bearing.

25) I get a Facebook. Problem number one.

26) Gov School. No comment.

27) I discover that I must apply to college. Multiple identity crises ensue, ending with an acceptance to Yale. I hug the UPS man. I run to my Grandmother.

28) I drive cross country to an witness insane Iraq War Vet following me (I sometimes wonder if he still is... not literally), ghost towns, poor beggars in New Mexico, the blight in trees in Wyoming. America looks sicker than Steinbeck wrote, but more beautiful and kind than I had imagined. I find a sense of wonder I had left somewhere along the line. Bubby dies. I turn 18. I graduate. One week.

29) I run away to Egypt for a while to satisfy my interests in Arabic. They are never satisfied. I go to Khan el-Khalili to eat pigeon and reminisce about the bombing that had been there when I was there, 4 years ago. I meet some of the best friends of my life. I learn more about the Arab world and have a rude awakening into the horrors of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict... on both sides.

30) Yale. Freshman year. The big choice. Obama or McCain. Guess who I chose? Dad wasn't too happy. I remember Yalies streaking, drinking, dancing, and singing in a BIG circle on Old Campus. Some professors join in the celebration.

31) I play a Jew on stage and discover that I ACTUALLY have a sense of Jewish Guilt--not Catholic. It complicates my religious persuasions, which were already unscramble-able. Perhaps it was my great-grandmother's influence on the family? (She was a Jew in a sea of Ukrainian Orthodox Christians).

32) Iranian revolutions while I'm in Turkey. I jog each night watching Euro News. The Kurdish workers who served tea in Taksim explain why they want their own country. I listen to Turks who speak the opposite.

33) An attempted terror attack from a boy no older than me from Nigeria fails. My age catches up to my conscience and realize that its my generation's turn to take the reigns pretty soon.

34) A major note, to remind you all where I'm from. THE STEELERS WON TWICE THIS DECADE. ;)

So I know there are more memories (this was my "teenage" decade yo!), but its hard to sort when you are running on very little sleep and freezing the tan off....

Here is to my 20s decade. Here is to a happy and healthy world. Or as happy and healthy as it could be.

Christmas Eve

2009-12-24T20:57:00.000-08:00

Before I tell you about how I was turned away from a church three times the eve of Christmas eve, I would like to introduce you to my family at Christmas Eve, to give, shall we say, a striking image of the family eccentricity.

We go out on a tar and chip road to Aunt Tammy's house in the middle of ??? and beat off several dogs while we bring presents into the house. Inside is Uncle John, and his kids Jimmy and Lexi and then of course my cousins Rachel, John, and Alysha, who has a new baby to a solider who just came back from Iraq (we shared stories about Kurdish people and Falafel all night).

My cousin Rube brought his new Latvian girlfriend. They arrived just as my cousins broke me down to show them a picture of "The Mysterious Russian" I am seeing. My cousin Alysha tells me that she accidentally bought my cousins the wrong gifts (thinking they were still 5 and 7, when they were 12 and 10) saying she "Lives in the Past." Later, I argued with Uncle/Father Tim (the orthodox priest) about the gospels of the bible. I didn't win, but I think I just like to see him get all anxious (another family trait).

Speaking of family traits, my uncle brought boxes of photos and keepsakes from my deceased bubby. Inside, she still had kept the christmas cards we had made and sent to her, along with every clipping from when someone was in the newspaper. The pictures dated back to the 40's and had women with kankles in them. I surely hope that doesn't run in my line. The pictures were in an attempted organization scheme (like most Tomson organization efforts) and had a general chronological order, though my baby pictures were with pictures of my father at 15. I found another piece of evidence that I was Jewish--some distant relatives that looked like they were wearing skull caps and had sweaters where those tassles should be coming out, but were shoved up inside. My family thinks I am Jewish now too.

Present opening happens and I sort of stare into space at children as other people try to prevent them from dangers I should be seeing (like ice cubes???)--finally I get to talk about uncle T-Bone about the composition of salt; i bought him himalayan salt from Dean and Deluca's.

I'm asked to watch children for a while until I pass them off to my perhaps even more incompetent sister who passes them off to someone who knows that children cannot open pistachios. Meanwhile, some old man my aunt Tammy has cared for over the years sits in the corner in a sitting room that no one sits in and watches the Christmas tree as if it is going to suddenly take him back to some other time or place that was a lot friendlier to him.

I give the rest of my dad's Sam Adams Cherry Wheat six pack to my cousin Alysha and the Iraq vet, go through a lot more hugs (some tight and some pats), go through more hugs, and then go to the car and shoo off dogs. In the car, we pass up houses that flicker in sight between black and white pictures and now. Some still keep logs outside. Some look like "Home Improvement" or "Country Living" covers, most of which are out dated or from the 50s, when the area juuuuuust started to get electricity.

I pocketed a bunch of pictures that didn't belong to me (i.e. my family wasn't in them), mostly of the Hunkie men and of the women with kankles and keep them next to my bed, flattened in the "Confessions of St. Augustine," along with the pictures of my other grandmother, who is sipping on Coors and wearing pants in the 40s, when God knows women didn't wear pants--or at least good housewives. A stray away from the kankled women in Mosgrove, where electricity was just taking hold....

What a long way we've come.

Copenhagen Schmopenhagen: What happened?

2009-12-19T12:39:00.000-08:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/20/science/earth/20accord.html?pagewanted=1&ref=world

So Copenhagen, after months of talk and preparation finishes out its days.

Headlines:

COPENHAGEN TALKS: Climate deal faces poor nations’ fury

No joy in Copenhagen
Copenhagen climate summit stumbles across the finish line unfinished

Obama then says, "We have made a meaningful and unprecedented breakthrough."

What does that even mean though? What does "progress" mean?
Okay, so each country will index their commitments to climate change and state what they want to cut. But who is the watchdog? Who is coercing? The most powerful countries are the biggest polluters so who is going to watch them? Then, developing (and undeveloped) countries are expected to write down their emissions cuts, but is there the technical expertise in those countries to do this task?

I feel that each country is looking to the rest of the world for answers to climate change and sometimes the domestic answers are not as apparent or important. Everyone comes to Copenhagen looking for answers and the countries who they depend on answers from (China and America say) will not necessarily give them to them clearly. It results in a "step" or a "breakthrough" but to a lot of people this is not enough.

Countries pledge huge amounts of money (The US is pledging $3.6 million to 2011-2012 solutions) but what does this mean? Where does it go? Are GLOBAL POLICY and charters the answer to a scientific problem?

If we want to fix Global Warming, lets start at home America. Yes Obama says that we put a lot of money to that, but he also pledged a lot of money to help Developing countries go green. What would happen if that money were to go to domestic movements? After all, we are the biggest polluter....

I'm no expert though. Neither in policy nor science.

Maybe I should go into chemistry instead of sociology. Biology instead of English.

I still laugh at Scientific American's answer to the problem:
"Is Birth Control the Answer to Environmental Ills?" My Aunt Becky thinks so....
http://www.scientificamerican.com/blog/post.cfm?id=is-birth-control-the-answer-to-envi-2009-09-23

Looks like Women and Gender studies. WOOT WOOT!

Oh Global Warming.

'Da Burgh

2009-12-18T17:27:00.000-08:00

Back in the Burgh. Pittsburgh. Really quickly (as I need to shower and sleep!!!), things that have changed:

1) Panera has a new sandwich. Chicken Frontega.

2) Giant Eagle (Gi'an Iggle---in Pittsburghese) sells beer. BEER?

3) Route 28 is under construction. Oh wait. That is the same.

More to come.

Struggle at Yale

2009-12-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

Yale is a struggle right now. Sights to be seen :

1) Naked run through Bass. Give some laughs to kids in a basement who haven't seen sunlight for days.

2) Camping out in Saybrook Library, beware of the porn playing on computer monitors. Some Yalies get bored and play pranks.

3) Every computer now has a tab open to Twitter.

4) You see someone in an ugly sweater Tuesday. You see that same someone in the same ugly sweater Friday.

5) Even worse, you smell a strong scent approaching. That would be your best friend.

6) Everyone's a bit chubbier.

7) Food has two flavors: bland and cold. Cold is a flavor.

8) Coffee is water. Coffee shops make so much money they close early. WTF?

9) I haven't seen my bed that much, but the couch in Misha's room has my faceplant in it.

10) You wake up in Arabic homework, in the middle of Arabic class--which you still have during reading week!?

Oy.

Feminist Fallback into the 60s?

2009-12-12T20:17:00.000-08:00

So I'm a closeted feminist. But in times of great struggle or stress, (i.e. now, 2 finals a paper and listening exam = rape), I tend to come out. And so do other girls.

Take my friend Evin. She doesn't sleep for 2-3 days. Doesn't shower. Goes to New York to get a passport. Gets hung up on the preoccupation that the only reason she got her passport she needed in 3 days was because she got past the bitch at the counter and upstairs to the men who looked at her dress falling down to reveal her rather large breasts. The woe. She only got what she wanted because she was a pretty woman-- she thought. Not because of her impeccable bargaining skills.

Sometimes feminists hate the fact that beauty can get them what they want. Others embrace it. I tend to embrace it. Or try to. But when I'm feeling bitchy, don't try to compliment me. I will only tear you apart.

Myself, when I'm stressed, I think of an alternative life, where I don't get a job and fall into a traditional gender role that I'm not fit for. Then I freak out. Then I feel bad for all of the women out there that need to depend on men and I get really dogmatic and ROAR!

But NAW MAN! That ain't me. I'm not dogmatic. I, in fact, usually respect the choices of many women to stay at home and raise children, just as I respect men who do the same thing. Its just not for me.

So in times of stress, women get "feministy." They get preoccupied with gender and don't know why. We can't put our finger on that lurking monkey of gender that somehow still affects us. We are women traveling on a gravel (not paved) path of 2nd generation "free" or "more equal" women--especially us at Yale. So what bothers us? If we are at the top at Yale, and we have rights and such, why do we feel there is still something wrong? Feminism isn't as obvious as saying, "Don't say c**t" or "We want equal pay" or "We want abortions" like it was in the 60s.

But we know something is wrong. So what is it? And how do you explain that to a man who doesn't see it?

Baby Lucy Born?

2009-12-02T10:04:00.000-08:00

"If the anti-abortion movement took a tenth of the energy they put into noisy theatrics and devoted it to improving the lives of children who have been born into lives of poverty, violence, and neglect, they could make a world shine." --Michael Jay Tucker.

So "Baby Lucy Week 12" has another poster above it with the quote I posted above. I am sitting in LC Hall procrasturbating over Arabic and this caught my attention .

The defense that a lot of Pro-Life advocates make is that, despite the adversities a zygote may face if born, once it develops into a child and then is born, this child can be a "Mozart" or something like that. Yet, how many Mozarts do I see in the ghetto in Natrona Heights? Not quite sure. There are a lot of hungry kids, kids without healthcare, kids with fetal alcohol syndrome....

I'm not going to go into this, but it did get me thinking.... who is looking out for those kids who are born? If someone reads this and can educate me, what do anti-abortion groups do for these kids they are saving?

So "Reproductive Rights Action League at Yale" (RALY) or "Choose Life at Yale," what are you actively doing to prevent zygotes from becoming miserable children or what are you doing to help these saved children become less underprivileged.

BoTax-- Politicians Get Bored, So Make Creative Tax Names

2009-11-30T09:12:00.000-08:00

BoTax.

Yep. Pretty soon, there may be a 5% tax on plastic surgery (that is not due to congenital abnormalities, injuries from trauma, or disfiguring disease). The senate is proposing it in the latest Health Care bill.

But seriously. Plastic surgeons and their patients are outraged. From the NYT, "'A lot of people think of this as a tax on rich Republican housewives; rich nonworking Republican housewives,' said Dr. Phile Haeck, 'This is not the case.'" According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, 60% of plastic surgery patients earn less than $90,000.

This might just mean outsourcing of plastic surgery (say hello to India and Mexico! Invest in expedia.com! in Kingfisher Airlines! in Air Mexico! haha)

Yet how much is 5% on plastic surgery? Its expensive enough as it is, why not take on another 5%?

While that seems *ahem* "logical," WHY THE HELL DO WE NEED TO TAX EVERYTHING?

Take Mayor Luke Ravenstahl of my own hometown, Pittsburgh. He wants to impose a 1% tax on students (Think University of Pittsburgh, Carnegie Mellon, Carlow, Chatham, Robert Morris, the list goes on). He claims they aren't paying a dime for the services they receive and they should pitch in. According to USA today, only 6% of Carlow students can pay the full $20,000 tuition. What makes Lukie think they can afford more? 100,000 students make up a significant portion of the city. They are the reason Pittsburgh is one of the top ten tech cities in America. Why scare them away?

Perhaps if he came up with a more creative name for the tax, like "Stud-tax" I would be persuaded.

END IT: in 21 Years.

2009-11-28T17:52:00.000-08:00

First of all, thanks for bearing with me as I battled swine flu (maybe?) and just general sickness those weeks leading up to Thanksgiving. Thanks for waiting for me too as I got back to this blog!

So before break, Deb Margolin (my acting 210 professor) brings in a pamphlet from Washington and Lee University, where she had been giving a talk that weekend. It was from a group "END IT" at WLU, dedicated to ending rape and sexual assault at WLU by the year 2030.

2030.

Wait. Seriously?

Yes. Here is a transcript below:

If you wouldn't want your sister (or brother) to come to W & L, would you send your children?

END IT is a movement that seeks to end sexual assault at W & L no later than 2030.

Let's make W & L a safe place.

(Phone numbers)

Coming soon, endit.wlu.edu.

END IT.

So the website does not work. There is no way to contact this group. I am just left with a bunch of questions and Deb is left with the impression that W & L is "RAPE CITY!"on the weekends. (Apparently getting drunk is an excuse for raping someone?--so I'm told, I have no verifiable fact on this).

All I have is this pamphlet and 2030. No contact. No Website. What does this mean? Does this mean that the rape situation is so bad that its going to take until 2030 to rid of it? Is that an "ambitious goal" or can we be a little more ambitious here??? Or maybe I completely mistake the pamphlet. We all know sexual assaiult happens everywhere. Maybe they are trying to be lenient and solve the problem by slowly phasing in on it.

BUT COME ON. Rape is a federal offense! I don't quite get why you don't say END IT TODAY because its been illegal. You can demand more from your school than 2030, I should hope.

Here is the catch, my oscillation. My catch 22. Whatever. I don't know the situation. All I have a card. 2030. Deb's "Rape City" reaction. I have no facts. I do not know. Maybe this group is somehow right in approaching the problem as they are. But 2030??? I want to judge those raping boys. I want to persuade those victims and activists to demand more. Yet I am clueless. This is the activist's/philanthropist's dilemma: you know something is wrong, you just don't know what.

What would you think?

My Brain Feels like a Magnetic Zero....

2009-11-09T17:29:00.001-08:00

When you have a fever, your brain somehow clings to every image, memory, TV show, or the back of your eyelids---definitely not anything you "should" be doing.

So I found my brain floating in its nostalgia today and came across a 10 person band, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Basically, its a band that is the brain child of a down and out Alex Ebert. After AA and sleeping on inflatable couches, he came up with the notion of a prophetic hero "Edward Sharpe" who travels around the West, preaching, though constantly distracted by the beautiful Jade, and other women, pleasures, and ideas.

In an age where everyone is looking for a hero or maybe just some comfort from a bygone era where we had faith, we were just distracted. Are we still distracted, or do we even have faith?

Anyways, enough with those pointless blurbs. Buy the CD, check it on Myspace. Here is an article that inspired me. Look 'em up on youtube or myspace or whatever. Listen to their song, "HOME." Basically... something about it reaffirms my sense of comfort, home, and love.

http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2009/09/edward-sharpe-and-the-magnetic-zeros-cmon-get-happ.html

I'm going to go nurse this fickle fever.

Flu, and all I can comprehend right now is 3M Tempa(dot) Strips

2009-11-08T11:30:00.000-08:00

When you have the flu, your mind does not work. Like mine right now. At the clinic where I went for them to tell me that I have a flu and maybe bronchitis, they took my temperature not with an electronic stick, but rather a strip! Cool stuff, y'know! (This is my mind right now).

http://solutions.3m.com/wps/portal/3M/en_US/SH/SkinHealth/products/catalog/?PC_7_RJH9U5230GE3E02LECFTDQG2O7_nid=GS7MJ47R7QbeQJ7KQ995P3gl

Check it. 3M Tempa(dot) Thermometer strips. They just stick 'em in your mouth and they tell your temperature. Great innovation, especially when dealing with what is clean and what is not these days is a problem.

And because I have the flu, the clinic gave me ten of them. MWAH HA HA!

God bless the mind with a fever.

Rest in Peace Yale

2009-11-02T06:16:00.001-08:00

I wish I could write a valediction or something to comfort myself or others, and maybe I can later. In the mean time, all I can do is employ John Donne.

Valediction Forbidding Mourning:

AS virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move ;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears ;
Men reckon what it did, and meant ;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
—Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run ;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

Rest in Peace Andre. Rest Peacefully Yale.

British Humor

2009-10-26T22:56:00.000-07:00

In lieu of writing a long post, I'm just going to post a Youtube Video to educate you in the finer points of British Humor:

Vicky Pollard.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s1C_8qg-e0

What a chav.

Chea. Look that word up. Vicky's picture will probably come up. Along with Burberry coats.

2009-10-24T15:57:00.000-07:00

Andy Warhol was obsessed with celebrity culture and the world's attempt for their 15 minutes of fame. Little did he know where this obsession would actually go.

To the sky, along with your 6 year old apparently.

The BBC recently put out an article about the reality TV parents (they had a lot of experience in it) who "sent up" their little boy in a balloon, (but not really) just for the media attention.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8323936.stm

The desperation seems pathetic and awkward, but the self in the eyes of the other is stronger than ever. Facebook. Twitter. Linked in. All of these networking sights are tickling our self obsessions by "Making us famous to 15 people," according to David Weinberger, American Technologist and professional speaker. Mr. Weinberger, I have 1,196 friends on Facebook. I think your statement is false.

Talk about self-obsession.

Regardless, I am not as interested in the self-obsession as I am the media coverage itself, why people convene around things like STAR or PEOPLE, or even Entertainment Tonight or Inside Edition. Self-obsession is only fueled by the fact that people are willing to indulge that person (or couple). Most people say, "Well those people who watch those shows have no lives or nothing special about themselves." I disagree. The people who watch these shows watch them, in my opinion not just to be "In the loop" of "current events" but also because they find something analogous to those absurdities in their own lives. The fear of having a child carried away by a hot air balloon makes the housewife look nervously for her toddler as he is actually eating glue (while mommy figures out who Brad Pitt is fucking). The reality TV shows like Big Brother makes the college roommates reflect on their own drama, after they have just walked in on their boyfriend with another suitemate.

These shows about stars or novelties just remind us of ourselves. We see that people can get famous for the most absurd of reasons, perhaps because we can see ourselves in them.... and maybe the hope remains... we too can be on TV.

PoliSci: WHY? or rather, Why not?

2009-10-21T19:44:00.000-07:00

Last night, I conversed with Misha (the Physics/Russian Lit wonder in my life) about why the hell I bother studying Political Science-- I myself sometimes question and doubt the value of my discipline. What am I creating? What can I TRULY know if I am outside of the process/work? How am I an asset to humanity by versing myself in this discipline? I'm certainly not inventing, creating or researching a cure for cancer. ..... Naturally I sound cynical and this is a cynical take. But one has to stop and question these things in order to get maximum efficiency and happiness out of a field.

So, the New York Times prints this article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/20/books/20poli.html?_r=1&em

Basically, a journalist (who probably graduated in Political science) questioning what the hell Political science is and why it is useful to humanity. Rather, the Journalist was following a certain Senator Coburn, who has recently attacked the National Science Foundation for giving $91.3 million to Poli sci field projects and research--money that could have been used in Biology, Physics, or Pharmacology.

Yet, the article quotes:

"Senator Coburn has maintained that commentators on CNN, Fox News, MSNBC and other news media outlets 'provide a myriad of viewpoints to answer the same questions.'"

If this is where Senators get their Political Science Advice, then I'm a little worried for America.

Political Science does have a duty to inform, but the right people in the right places need to do it. Let's not be frivolous with our money now. Science needs politics just as much as politics (government) needs science. If science wants to see its work deployed on a large scale, its needs politics to help survey that field and that strategy.

Maybe I'll be a Sociology Major.

Holstee: Wholesome Clothing

2009-10-18T12:40:00.000-07:00

I love entrepreneurs. I love their passions. In fact, I think I'm Passionate about Passion.

So this weekend, I had dinner with Mike and Fabian (Sandbox). Mike, a Q-pac Grad and brainfather of "Holstee Clothing" and Fabian--the Swiss wonderman of entrepreneurship.

http://www.holstee.com/index/

Holstee is a clothing line, technically, but is more of a lifestyle.

Check out their manifesto:

This is your life. Do what you love, and do it often. If you don’t like something, change it. If you don’t like your job, quit. If you don’t have enough time, stop watching TV. If you are looking for the love of your life, stop; they will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love. Stop over-analyzing; life is simple. All emotions are beautiful. When you eat, appreciate every last bite. Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself. Some opportunities only come once: seize them. Open your mind, arms, and heart to new things and people. We are united in our differences. Ask the next person you see what their passion is, and share your inspiring dream with them. Life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating. Life is short. Live your dream, and wear your passion.

Basically, I want to wear their holster pocket shirts (wholesome and "holsters"!) and pocket this idea.

So make a business with your passions. Our economy will love you for it.

And go buy a shirt.

Business Practices That LIVE

2009-10-15T18:38:00.000-07:00

Run a healthy, environmentally friendly business. CSR (Corporate Social/Sales Responsibility) can mean serious cash and serious humor.

You may not see how these things connect, but after my Arabic test tomorrow, oh will I tell you.

This just made my night.

Going loopy with work,

Danielle

2009-10-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

Dear Enron,

cc: Mr. Skilling

bcc: Douglas Rae

From Today's New York Times, on an Appeal by former Enron Chief:

In his brief asking the Supreme Court to hear his case, Mr. Skilling said that his conduct “even if wrongful in some way, was not the crime of honest-services fraud, because the government conceded that his acts were not intended to advance his own interests instead of Enron’s.”

Intent? INTENT? Can we honestly just look at the facts of who ran away with countless millions before the fall of Enron? Um, hmmm from an HBS case on Enron, the stat is that Skilling took $78 MILLION dollars from 2000 to 2001.

Come now. Everyone had vested interest in Enron's interests because Enron WAS them. Oh Skilling. If you can't be honest that you didn't want that $78 million for your own interests, then you are doing a dis-service to humanity right there. Crime of honest-services? Really? Are you STILL lying?

Check out some pop culture fun: Drop the S off of Skilling, a rap song about corporate america inspired by David Tonsall, a former Employee who was screwed by the scandal.

http://www.thirdcoastrap.com/nrun/play21830102.html

Yours Truly,

Danielle

p.s. Why am I so obsessed???

History Girls: Alan Bennett Hear My Prayer!

2009-10-13T20:46:00.000-07:00

Finally, no more Enron love letters.

Anyways, word up to all the Feminists out there. I wanted to put "The History Boys" on at Yale with a cast of all women.

But, as in High School (at The Ellis School For Girls and Young Women), I ran into licensing and legal issues when Samuel L. French required that men be played by men. Women played by women.

Something tells me that Alan Bennett would not have cared too much and might have found my exploration of nostalgia, memory, sexuality, hierarchy and "the cult of masculinity" interesting from a feminine perspective. Granted, I don't like messing with scripts too much in such an Avant Garde way, but there is something to be said about investigating "a Man's World" through a female lens--is breaking through History, making women the makers, seekers, and lenses of history. I mean, even Mrs. Lintott says, "History is just women trailing behind with the bucket." (or something like that). Let's change that. Theater is a good medium to do so.

While I don't want to deal with the fines and legal issues of breaking contract, I do want to bring this issue to the public eye with my play (or rather the program). I want to let people know about these restrictions in the theater world, which is apparently so free and accepting and open to the eyes of idealists out there. Baby, this is a business.

But even if we are a business, business is all about innovation and growth. We are a creative century. Why can't we get past these gender issues already? Break into new territory with theater? Go beyond licensing restrictions and move to something better?

Dear Enron: Why am I writing to you about Cancer wards?

2009-10-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

Dear Enron,

Your paper is due in one hour and seven minutes.

Yet I sit here after three hours of procedures for removing yet another cyst in an actual American hospital... and I still have no proofread you.

So about this American hospital. In July, I wrote about the excellent care in the "women's health center" at the American Hospital in Istanbul. Now I write to you about "Breast Cancer Center" at Yale-New Haven Hospital.

Funny how I go from "Women's Health" to "Breast Cancer" Centers for treatment. Don't you think they could have been a little more optimistic here in New Haven about that care? (That dragged on quite some time....) Well, I guess I was the only under 50 year old woman in that ward.

Alas, though I'm okay, I'm tired and too high strung to settle into writing about you Enron, because quite frankly, "Breast cancer" is not the same as "women's health."

Why am I writing about this?

Sincerely,

Danielle

Dear Enron: Are we screwed?

2009-10-11T23:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Enron--

I visit your tomb today to ask, how many more are like you out there? How many more clever systems are writing off debts that the public cannot see? How many more of you are hiding information and thus creating an unfair market? How many more are keeping our failing economy running on a lie?

If the system is defunct, then we are screwed. Ultimately, you failed because prices caught up to you. Even if you perfect your lies, are we safe from another major market failure? Lies in subprime markets.... lies in Enron.... Where are there more lies that will catch up when there is another change in global markets?

My question is, Enron, should I pack up and go live on a kibbutz? Should I go live on a self sustaining farm in Syria while learning Arabic--as is my dream?

Though dead, Enron, you teach me some scary things. You teach me that this is not unusual and that it is perfectly possible to cover up lies for a long time. If capitalism is suddenly based off of these lies, thus becoming a "failed capitalism," then are we screwed?

I don't like apocalyptic narratives, but this is starting to sound like one. Who needs the class on "Apocalyptic Narratives in American Culture" that American Studies puts out? This is the big daddy of Apocalypse.

Oh how I remember the days when I thought capitalism was so light and fluffy and fair, when we worshipped it at Christmas with the success of marketing triumphs at Brookstone and Toys R' Us. Communism sucks. Facism sucks. Socialism sucks. Mercantilism died. They are all imperfect eventually. What are we going to do?

God I should get some sleep. Oh Enron. I am making no sense because your class is sucking my brains out of meeeeeeeeeeee.

asldkfj ;lawueoir

Yours,

Danielle

Dear Enron

2009-10-08T12:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Enron

cc: Activists who hate capitalism, mass media

bcc: Douglas Rae

How do you think Off-Balance sheet partnerships are in any way ethical? Just because they are legal does not make it ethical. Is not one of the first rules to successful capitalism (according to Adam Smith) transparency and freedom of information? Oh, when the days of business were noble and honorable! (At least in my nostalgia for days I've not seen).

But even more so, thank you for making capitalism look more evil than a vengeful demon mask in Japanese No drama. Thanks to you, mass media can make big business (and therefore, most business) look evil to the eyes of the world. Not only does your complexity make you unethical, your complexity makes mass media simplify you to make business seem evil. Oh if only we could reform!

Thanks to instances like this, America has no clue what's going on and they protest things they do not understand. No wonder there. But just the sound of "off-balance" sheet partnerships makes me nauseous too. Yet I am not prone to protest.

Yes, I understand you collapsed in 2001 and this story seems like old news, but why do I feel like you are still haunting me? Perhaps because I have to write a paper on you due Monday.

Sincerely,

Danielle

Sell Yourself for a Cause

2009-09-28T18:54:00.000-07:00

Blurb of the day because I am bogged down:

So Queen Rania of Jordan came to Yale last week. Of course I couldn't go because of a Theater Studies class. However, I respect Queen Rania.

In an age of FACEbook, linked in, Twitter, and Myspace, there really is no better time to sell yourself, your lifestyle, and your face for causes---especially if you have the power, the connections, and the money to do so. I respect women and men who have this ability. Queen Rania is one of them.

When you can literally tag your name to Women's Empowerment, Children's Rights, Community Connectivity, and even Jordanian Tourism, there is some definite Marketing power in your voice. Don't get me wrong, I love what she's doing and think more icons should do work like this. Don't think I am dissin HM Queen Rania.

http://www.queenrania.jo/default.aspx

The world loves an icon. Why not make yourself an icon for a cause and then run with it? We love to worship something or someone beautiful and then have a reason to do so. Throw in some human rights to a picture of a beautiful lady and suddenly you aren't guilty for wanting to follow someone.

There should be a course at Yale in "How to make yourself into an Icon-101."

What Happened in My Home? : Police and Protest in Pittsburgh

2009-09-27T06:38:00.000-07:00

http://www.pittsburghpostgazette.com/pg/09270/1001203-482.stm

I am a skeptic. I tend to shy away from protests--I guess I don't find the efficacy in them, often wary of their purpose.

But I know that feeling. People want a cause to fight for. They want to be part of a group, a collective. This applies to both a police force and a protest group. Behavior quickly imitates itself and spreads like wildfire. The collective is an imitation of itself.

So it begins. You get students gathering, for instance, do these girls below even know what they are doing? This isn't a Steelers game girls. This is the G-20.

These sights of SWAT officers 4 blocks from my High School KILLS me. It pains me to see this force come out from seemingly no where and run the streets like an insurgent brigade. Like an insurgent power.

Its easy for a police officer to fall back on coercion, on power, so tediously balanced on the scrim of governance behind it. It feels like at any moment it could fall through, but can it really now? Is that even possible? You protestors, you think the state is afraid of you?

Perhaps you do. You have Twitter revolutions, Facebook revolutions, and a global community of supporters, looking for a way to connect themselves to a cause. And this is powerful. Lucrative (in some cases that you may not realize--think of all those Urban Outfitters T-Shirts). Frightening. Exciting.

While I remain a skeptic about your intentions and your cause, you drive an industry and for that I applaud you. I applaud you for creating a culture that could rival any large business. You are connected. You are young. You are fighters. You are what everyone at one point wishes they were. You want to stick it to the man and you don't even know who the man is. But that fact that you want to stick it, matters somehow.

Look, the G-20 issues will drag on. People in the Man are going to fight Climate Change. They are also going to fight recession. They are going to investigate these things and change them in policy or hard work within (hopefully, if the right people win anyways). I don't know the issues in and out, I don't know if even you know the issues. But props to you for thinking you can change the world. Because someday, you actually may.

Actors in Management: My World View

2009-09-22T21:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I feel my worldview is royally unique. It could be brilliantly effective, or a huge, misguided utopian failure.

I am an actress who looks at the world as a stage. Where do our motivations come from? Why do we gather together in search of spectacle? Uniqueness? Unity? Why do we strive for the best performance, in whatever arena we are in (business, sciences, military, sales)? Its about putting on the best act, the best show, to please the client, to improve their lives, and maybe get something out of it yourself.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with business, marketing, networking, organization. I like to create projects, initiatives, get funding for them, create value in them, oversee them, and then pass them on. (Ivy EME, theater, Afghan Sister School, even now with a new entrepreneurial venture I'm developing in the field of headhunting). The interaction. The creation of value. The all holy thing we call capitalism. Hell, creating capitalism! (Why else am I fascinated by Kosovo and the business climate of the developing world?)

Its all the same. Its about putting the right actors in the right business to get good performance ratings, and put on a hell of a good marketing campaign--a spectacle if you will.

Ultimately, even the vocabulary is the same.

Now, how to get this business going would be fabulous.....

Hopefully I'm not sounding too idealist. But I sold you? Right? ;)

Now to say that to myself.

2009-09-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

Today in my "Capitalism: Success, Crisis and Reform" class with Douglas Rae gave a great lecture on the utter importance of Freedom as a means of driving cooperation, success, innovation, and reform. Freedom to enter a market. Freedom to do. Freedom to choose what we so pleased.

As I was leaving, I noticed what looked like a black and white photo of a round planet on a sheet of paper tacked to a message board in LC. Upon further investigation, I found that it was actually titled:

"BABY LUCY, 0 weeks."

"Baby Lucy has just been conceived. She is a zygote, a single cell invisible to the unaided eye, but she is already a whole and distinct organism, possessing all the genetic characteristics necessary to direct her own development from within. We invite you to join us as we watch Baby Lucy grow over the next nine months. Sponsored by Choose Life at Yale."

Feeling that I should be incensed, that some inner feminist rage should overtake me, I came up with a bunch of rash arguments and ranting in my head:

WHAT? MAYBE THOSE MEN SHOULD THINK OF ALL THE DATE RAPES ON CAMPUS. THEY CAN'T CHOOSE TO PREVENT. MAYBE THEY SHOULD TALK TO THOSE BOYS FIRST. HUH? HUH? HUHHHH?

Hold up. This is not how I think. After a moment, I realized, "Danielle, you can't be that crass. You can't be like the anarchist Living Theater people you saw last night. You need to be tactful towards yourself." It's very difficult for a woman not to sound like a raging feminist and get a bad rap when she sees things like this.

You see, it is very difficult for a woman to think about abortion, about choice. Its not as simple as choosing life. Its about preventing life. Its about choosing to DEVELOP life when you want to.

Its about freedom. Freedom of expression of both parties. Yes. However, if there is something that I learned in life, its not what you say, its how you say it.

Look boys. Its about FREEDOM. I want the freedom to choose life. I want the freedom to choose life when its ready, and when I'm ready. I want the freedom to prevent it up until that point. I want the freedom to regulate when my eggs will become human beings (they too are potential life, like a zygote). I also want the freedom to stop the development of a zygote into a human being. You care about life obviously, so lets work together to maybe get some of the date rape off campus we see, to ease/end the inequality between the sexes we see at Yale, even today. Lets create a dialogue with less accusation. Please stop incensing most women on this campus with biting and cruel posters that do nothing to promote life, only anger it.

Forty years, women have been at Yale. About 40 years, women have been able to get an abortion or birth control. 40 years. 40 years. 40 years and you want to take my freedom?

Look. I don't want an abortion... ever. But do you understand the circumstances and consequences of what it means to be in that situation? Perhaps, as a male, you really wouldn't. You've been at Yale for hundreds of years. My sex has only been around for forty. We don't have time to loose with an unwanted RAPE.

I don't want to sound emotional, but LIFE is emotional. Choice is serious. Choice is about freedom. Freedom is life.

Turks Needs A Laxative? Or some Nicorette.

2009-09-11T15:36:00.000-07:00

Today I was having tea with a fellow a met at at Model UN try out. After doing that Yale thing (debating politics, ethics, the business sector etc.) we fell into actual Yale discussion, like discussing smoking culture in the world.

Don't get me wrong. I am not a regular smoker. Smoke doesn't bother me, though I tend not to like the idea of smoking. But fact is, come tech week for a show, I smoke. I feel guilty as hell for it too. But also, I'm one of the only female members of SIGAR club at Yale.

However, when a woman with a headscarf is shoving a cigarette in your face after dinner, or when a group of Swiss entrepreneurs smoke in between each course of the meal you are having with them, the guilt disappears. In fact, it eases any tension that may exist (amen for the Muslims who can't drink).

So I was describing how Turkish men in particular tend to smoke a lot, drink 9 cups of tea, and click prayer beads away as they pass time in anxiousness, waiting for someone to come buy their donor or their rug or their souvenir. Let's face it. Long hours. The market is flooded with the same products. You need something to pass the anxiety time presents. Alcohol cannot do it. I told this to Richard who responded: "Turkey sounds like its constipated. They have this secularism kinda stuck in there and they don't know what to do with it so they sit around and smoke."

I laughed. HOWEVER, I love Turkey. Yea, it may need some nicorette or laxative and sort out its complex secular/nonsecular issues, but its always moving forward. (Just look at that domestic market that weathered the economic crisis storm!) haha.

Just sharing the image guys. Images aren't always reality. Thankfully Turks have nice senses of humor. Go ahead and use the line, Orhan Pamuk.

Interraciality for a Mutt Like Me

2009-09-04T12:51:00.000-07:00

According to my spellchecker, interraciality is not a word. It also is not something I personally have mused over much in my life as an Eastern European-Gypsy-Cherokee-DAR-??? background.

Yet what I love about Yale is that the people around me bring up these topics to me even though I'm not thinking about them. Meet Dalia, my sweet suite mate. Dalia is a New Yorker. She is a African American Jew with the craziest, sexiest hair (definitely more than my mane). She can kick your ass in Hebrew and is a certified New York Bartender. She has a childlike laugh that makes me smile and she understands kids like no other.

She is taking a course on interraciality and hybridity and sat down on our green couch last night to talk to me about it. I won't go too much into the conversation for privacy's sake, but basically, what we talked about where notions of not being "Black enough" or how being a "halfie" often makes you "BI" racial, and not inter racial. You are not a venn diagram and a whole, but rather two separate things, divided which can make you doubt where/who you are.

For a mutt like me, I don't think of myself in terms of being interracial (in America, what you SEE in color terms is more what defines you as inter racial, being black/indian/asian/chicano, and then something.) It got me to thinking about a whole different struggle in identity that has never crossed my mind. Often times, people at Yale get down on themselves for not being "cool" or "original," by being black and japanese or indian and jewish. Yet people who think this, clearly are not thinking into nuances of the situation. The struggles, the triumphs, and the confusion. These are dilemmas I probably will never have.

So what does it mean to be a mutt? Where is my role in this conversation? I could politely sit back and listen, offer a sort of minimal understanding, and my care/heart for Dalia. I was really interested in her story. Sometimes I wonder though, should I be part of the conversation? If so, where am I valuable? As Dave Chappelle said, "Lets fuck each other till we're beige," I guess I'm already beige (my bubby swears her great grandfather had some african blood). So where do the beige talk?

Living a "Domestic" Life: Life at home for an Ex-pat at heart

2009-08-21T16:44:00.000-07:00

In a foreign country, when there is something that potentially rubs you, say, construction, healthcare, pollution, marriage practices, you can shrug it off and say, "Well, how peculiar. This country is not like mine." Of course, I can look at them as potential business opportunities or something--like opening a recycling facility in Istanbul or something. However, for the most part, the ex-pat cannot be expected to solve the problem of the foreigner.

Flash to my town of origin in rural Pennsylvania. Route 28 is STILL under construction. One medication that I could have gotten in Turkey for $10 is $42 here. There are shootings at LA Fitness nearby. I see trash on the roads. Public Education nearby has turned into more like a juvenile detention center.

Basically, the problems that the ex-pat may click their tongue to are in their own country. And by I mean that ex-pat, I mean me. I can't shrug it off because this system directly affects me. Regardless of what country I am in, the fact that my state's education system is not doing so hot, or that my healthcare costs are through the roof (and no comment on the Obama plan...)--all of this has some impact on me, the Passport that I hold, the life I lead, and where I go.

So though my life is far from Domestic yet (even though I'm cooking Creme Brulee and Baklava like Julia--great movie), looking at the stagnation (and death?) of the area I came from can fill any ex-pat's conscience with a little bit of sadness, or even guilt!

I can't even vote to change it here. I'm a Connecticut voter.

The Day After Tomorrow: Pittsburgh Edition

2009-08-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

Apparently America has an obsession with apocalypse. (Some people I know would throw global warming into this. Other people I know would throw those same other people as perpetrators of another sort of apocalypse...) Yale this term has a class on Apocalypse in the American Imagination, if my memory serves me correctly after Bluebooking 640 pages...

But I can see why. If I look around at coming home to Pittsburgh, or rather Natrona Heights, Pennsylvania, I definitely see why people might be paranoid about imminent destruction and failure. While the downtown area seems to be breathing the fresh, crisp air of the Allegheny Valley and drinking from the blue waters of the Allegheny, the Mon, and the Ohio Rivers, just drive 25 miles up north and you'll see the weed infested gravel plots where buildings stood 8 months ago when I was home for Christmas, or even 5 months ago for those few days in March.

Let me break this down for you:

-At least 3 buildings along Rt. 28 going into the city, that were there when I left, are now gone

-The entire Bouchat car dynasty (i.e. 2 buildings) in Natty Heights are now gone

-The Macy's and just about 40% of the other businesses in the local Heights Plaza are gone.

-Shopping centers that were built at one point last year have been left empty.

YET! I see so much development:

-The WalMarts have taken off 3 miles from my house

-There is a lot of slow Penn Dot construction

-At least 2 New Churches have been built near my home

-The Giant Eagle Grocery Store has expanded

I actually don't know if the development is telling of growth or disaster, but whatever it is, I find the fact that slow construction, Wal-Marts, and Religious establishments (as well as the waist lines of my fellow Natty-Heightsers) have grown in volume as other businesses shrink.

Being home is like being in a different country. Things do seem older and more over grown. The flowers have spread on our bank. The road has aged and gotten sealed. The house has taken on a very "lived in" look that I have been trying to achieve with decoration scheme for the past 10 years of my life (with the exception of last year). The trees have grown and the leaves are big. The grass is not dried out nor dead. New people living outside of the farm have bought old houses. There are old men driving around with their mouths open and the cost of having your nails set has been raised to $30 at a nearby salon.

As things age and as I notice it, perhaps I'm looking for signs of failure in the town that holds my mailing address. Perhaps I'm looking for ways this place is dying and leaving it to gravel and concrete pads, and of course perhaps a greater sort of seclusion on my farm... Perhaps I'm trying to see the Middle Town America that is suffering with cash, cholesterol, and obesity, which is all I hear about but haven't seen in quite some time. Perhaps we crave failure in order to launch ourselves into a new realm or new era in order to escape something.

Americans have always been the greatest escape artists I know (I could argue that Manifest Destiny is merely an excuse for running away). Apocalypse and looming failure is a good reason to escape I suppose. Are we really failing though?

I'm sittin at an Airplane Stations, got a ticket for my destination... mmmm mmmm

2009-08-07T22:00:00.000-07:00

Yea, I went there. Go Simon and Garfunkel. Its the truth though. I'm sitting at the Istanbul International Airport after spending a decent amount of time at a D & R Bookstore, a Starbucks, and watching Turkish Customs Officials Drag a shouting man away. Oh Turkey.

Right now, there is an ad for Reina on the screen (the Night Club I went to on my 19th birthday--thank you Murat). There was a soundtrack for the club at the bookstore. I have about ten YTL in my wallet that I want to spend. I see simit looking croissants in the Starbucks case. Fake blonde dye jobs are everywhere. People are carrying expensive duty free items around, especially the Saudi Tourists ( who probably stayed at my hotel last night, where there were thongs, condoms, and boxers in the Mini Bar to buy--chilling.)

I am sleepy after days without sleep, thanks to my father's snoring in our cave hotel in Cappadocia and our Airport hotel. Last night I ordered a Sutlac out of nostalgia and sleeplessness. It was bad--the sleeplessness and the sutlac.

I could talk about my summer and reflect about my successes, my challenges, my moments.... but the summer isn't done. I still have reports. I still have budgets to complete. I still have meetings in New York that were set up in Istanbul. I choose to remain silent for now.

I'm surprisingly quiet in the mind. When I do think, I think only of how much I do not want to leave... but not obsessively. It is a quiet longing. I read the newspaper. I read my Turkish Authors I picked up. I listen to Manu Chao as I watch the Turkish Starbucks man take away some plates and mop the leak from the ceiling.

I have to go and catch my flight to London.

"All those tours and one night stands, got a suitcase and guitar in hand, and every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one man band."

Homeward Bound I guess? (Well, not for another 5 days). Simon and Garfunkel took the words right out of my mouth.

Turkish Tea and Patience

2009-08-06T11:25:00.000-07:00

Tonight at dinner in Cappadocia, my father burnt his tongue on a hot cup of Turkish Cay (pronounced Chai) and proceeded to add cold water to the tiny glass, perhaps out of the frustration of having a sore tongue and the desire to conquer that which was trying to make him wait (waiting is a sin in America land you know). It reminded me of the land which I was away from for some 3 months now and what I will face when I go back to it on Saturday.

The little cups of cay that I have encountered in Turkey have taught me a patience that I don't think I had back in the states. Ask my younger sister--part of my daily routine was burning my tongue on my black coffee and then spilling it on a black shirt (planning ahead you know). I could never wait for something to cool off. I wanted the rich satisfaction of the bitter blackness on my tongue, even if it meant pain. I had to wake up. I had to go to school. I had to do it and I had to do it NOW.

Something has changed here. After burning my tongue on a cup of cay that was not meant to wake me up, that was meant for me to enjoy (out of hospitality, during conversation, after dinner), I realized---why the hurry? Why can I not have the temperance to simply wait and sip my cay, making the small cup last infinitely longer than a large black coffee from Tazza D'Oro? Something about drinking from that little cup made me enjoy stirring the sugar cube just a little longer, waiting in between sips, taking my time, letting the tea cool. The purpose of the tea was not to slug it down. The purpose of the tea was for the time it passed. It taught me patience and temperance--skills to be had that I never thought could be learned from a cup of tea.

Now that I am going back to the land of the 2 minute cheese burger and the 99 cent chicken nugget, where large coffees can be downed in a minute and people get antsy if they have to wait more than 1 minute for their computers to load, I imagine I will go back to burning my tongue on my large Mexican Peaberry in the morning. However, when I sit down at the end of the day with my cup of tea and begin the night of studying, I think I'll have that patience I have been praying to learn.

I guess I'll have to wait and see what happens.

Playing Tour Guide and Being a Daughter: The Many Sides of Danielle

2009-08-03T14:18:00.000-07:00

I harbor within me a not-so-secret love for giving tours. Showing people around and bragging about the history, culture, and food of a place while someone pays me sounds great... kind of legitimizes what I like to do in my spare time anyway.

So when my parents said they wanted to come to Turkey to visit my sister and me, I jumped on the chance of--for the first time ever--being a tour guide to my parents as well. Yet I was not only going to play guide, but live out the role of daughter again.

Saturday, my sister joined me in Istanbul with her host family from Ankara. We toured the Galata Tower--near where my favorite hotel and part of Istanbul is (end of Tunel, in the little Bohemian Art District, where street artists and graffiti rule). Finally, after Gabbi and I had our moments of smug mutual understanding at many a comment around us, we found our parents joking with a cab driver. Oh Dad. We were a family again.

It was bizarre. It had been the first time we were together in months. It was glorious. We only had good times and good adventures to talk about. After saying goodbye to Gabbi's other family, we stole her for a night to go to a meyhane on the roof of a building for delicious mezze, raki, and tavuk sis (like tapas, uzo, and chicken kebab). My sister and I two-timed Turkish culture with our parents, explaining our various (and widely different) experiences with them. We had so much to talk about and conversation never ended. The night was epic, as was the view.

The next day, I played guide--with transport, food, and sights, like the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace etc. We later had dinner with her host family and then said a painful goodbye as she went back to Ankara.

So we were a family again for that night and day. After two months of playing employee, project manager, student, intern, co-chair, "Mama D," single lady, or yabanci "foreigner" (sorry if I misspelled!), I was a daughter and a guide.

The next day we went to the prince islands, hired a carriage, and climbed to the top to an orthodox monastery. Later, going to Kadikoy to pick up my phone and still later, a glorious dinner on the Bosphorus at a Turkish/Asian fusion restaurant. I loved the feeling of sharing my favorite spots with my parents. Finally, I could share the love I have for this place with someone. I was guide, but more than that, I was a daughter who could finally share one of her adventures with someone. Solitude is nice, but at the end of the day, it is better when you've told someone what you did in solitude.

Then we saw a couple at the food bar near us (very soulful little place with the best view of the first bridge!). They were covered up in blankets and eating and drinking. They looked like they had known each other for ages. My father made jokes at them for being gushy and they laughed. Of course dad bought them a drink (after an arduous task of translation...). By the end of our meal, we had another round with them. He was a "digested man" who liked "quality, not quantity" in women. He was a worldly fellow, proud of his achievements and very in love with his fiancee--in the most Turkish way possible. He worked in management of different hotels, clubs, and restaurants around the world and was quite charismatic. Quite a well connected man too. His fiancee, a financial analyst darling and calm--what a man like that needs. In short, they were love. And they only knew each other for a month. We are going to the wedding in May, btw. ;)

You know me. I don't get mushy. I don't like too much direct sentimentality (even if I post it here... I may not say it with much heart anywhere else). But I liked it. I was sitting on the Bosporus with my parents, having a drink and the meal of my life, with a real couple sitting near. Something gave me hope and faith in the past, present, and future. It gave me hope of the many hats I can put on, and not just put on, but WEAR with a sense of ownership. What hat I will wear in 10 years is scary to think of, but to know that I'm not just acting this--that this is my life.... that is refreshing.

So a sister guiding her sister from Ankara, in Istanbul, with her parents visiting from the US, after being in 5 different country in 2 months, chilling on the Bosporus, guiding them around the city, and experiencing all of that... coming together. Every memory of my time here and with them flooded in. Its the new face of the new sort of global families that are developing (a special story on this later).

I like guiding people through my life I guess. Call it vain. Yet, why else do people keep blogs like this? wink wink.

Morning...?

2009-07-31T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've recently discovered what I think is a morning in Istanbul. I think. Maybe. The sun rises, so it must be the sign of a new time, a new day, but as far as a change in pattern or clock goes, I'm still confused.

Last night, or morning, or yesterday (the 31, night of the 30), I enjoyed tea, mussels, and second hand from cheap cigarettes (not so enjoyable), with five Kurdish men, a El Salvadorian (edgar), a pole (pawel), and a canadian (Jeremy). I was the Mexican sister of Edgar for the night, so don't get too excited. After our American going away party for our co-workers at TOG, Tesev, the Turkish Daily, Koc or otherwise, we ended up making friends with not just our co-workers the average chai man, the usual nut seller, or the guy who cleans your table who only speaks Kurdish, or zazaki (of the Zaza people of course). Chatting about their experiences is unique and when you know just enough Turkish, Arabic, English, or Spanish--well, conversation is limited but entertaining. It was night, but morning. Turkcell was planning its carnival and beginning to hang banners at night's end, but morning to it. I saw men ending their nights and some beginning their days.

Right now it is nearing 8:00 of the 1st. The sleepy watch guards at the desk of my guest house are just waking up with a heavy dose of Turkish Soap Operas. Perhaps the convenience store has opened. I bet that simit is being made somewhere (its always being made). People are getting up. In my case, my flatmates are leaving. One by one.

Why am I finding a sense of finality in the morning? (can you feel the subtext of the previous paragraph?). I feel like something is over and its only 8:00AM. Something must be beginning. Normally nights give that sense of closure with the promise of the next day. Anymore, with my insomnia, mornings tell me "Its okay to be awake... now. Too bad Advil PM did not work."

No. That aside, I've come to appreciate the early morning as limbo. A time of change. Not finality. Forever in limbo, in peace---my mantra. Good Morning Istanbul. Good Night America. Happy 5 o'clock. Somewhere.

How Facebook Ushered Me into the World of Diplomacy

2009-07-29T08:48:00.001-07:00

Why did I get a Facebook initially? To easily contact old friends. To socialize. To share the party photos from the night before. To take all of those ridiculous quizzes like, "Which State Are You?" or "What type of Kisser are you?" To "find myself" in those years of teenage identity crisis.

Yet in the news, I see people using Facebook to start revolutions.

This is clearly not the Facebook that I, as an American, know. In other parts of the world, Facebook is a political, diplomatic, business and social hub. The politics can get so intense that my sister's Turkish host father will not let his 17 year old use Facebook yet. Revolutions in Iran start as a result of Facebook. China has recently banned Facebook. The power is so huge; it is beyond seeing the drunken picture of your friends the day after a party.

As you well know, recently I visited Kosovo for a JADE Junior Enterprises Conference. I was the only American to attend this conference and I did not meet any other American students in the area (some lovely Canadians...). As a result of this conference, I may venture to say that a decent percentage of Kosovar Youth are now my friends on Facebook—for a country isolated for so long, young people are eager to use their IT and English skills to reach out to the world.

You also know that I recently went to a part of Turkey heavily populated by Kurdish people. As a result of being in Kurdish Turkey and Kosovo within three days of each other, I created a Facebook Photo Album called, “Kurds and Kosovo,” probably just because it had catchy alliteration, but I didn’t think much more into it than that.

Then it began….slowly. The Director of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had mentioned something in his response to a Facebook message I had sent, inquiring why I put Kurds and Kosovars in the same album. My Turkish friend asked why they were put in the same album.

Call me ignorant of ethnic pride (I’m about as mixed ethnically as a mutt!), but I soon woke up the next morning to comments from a Kosovar detailing—on EVERY Kosovar photo in the album—the difference between Albanians and Kurds, historically, ethnically, linguistically, and geographically. The tone was a little unsettling and after realizing that I had accidentally friended this person without knowing them (in the long line of friend requests from Kosovar students I had met), I deleted all of the comments and removed the culprit from my friends.

The man then sent me an e-mail, saying that as a Yale student, I would never have titled an album “Kurds and Kosovo” without more “profound intentions” and that he took it that I was claiming Kurds and Albanians were of the same ethnic group. He went on to give me a history of how the Albanians were there for a longer period of time and were their own distinct ethnic group. In short, he was offended.

In my manner, I felt guilty. I sent him a very thought out response, explaining to him that, as a Yale Student, my intentions were no more profound than alliteration and the fact that I had been in the two places within each other. We aren't super humans! I changed the name of the album at his request and apologized for the misunderstanding, explaining to him how I would be returning to Kosovo in the future for study and work hopefully because of the good impression I had. I mentioned that, as the ethnic mutt of an American I am, I apparently didn’t fully grasp the ethnic conflicts he had experienced. I did write a note about how I thought he should have messaged me to clarify the situation before posting his comments all over my album though!

He e-mailed back, apologizing whole-heartedly, explaining that after years of Balkans ethnic wars, he had taken me as an enemy of Albania. He explained how grateful he was that I wanted to come back and that he was very sorry for acting on such a strong instinct instead of using his reason. I could see where he was coming from. He explained that he too was a naturalized US citizen (though not the ethnic mutt like me!) and his brother had served in Iraq. He was very grateful to America and had studied at CUNY. He also stated that Yale students "weren't super humans, but close to it! ;)"

I e-mailed him back and thanked him for his honest response. I was amazed at what just happened and I told him. What a soft diplomacy experience we had together! I couldn’t believe it! I asked him if I could tell our story on the blog and he said he would be honored.

The experience helped me realize the tremendous political potential of Facebook. The next day, I told my friend that I solved a soft diplomacy crisis on Facebook. She said, “Why Facebook?” Exactly.

Wake up world! If you thought your Facebook relationship status started heated conflict, imagine what it does in Iran. But also realize how powerful it is in cultural understanding, exchange, and creating even stronger ties after wording mishaps.

My status later stated "Danielle Tomson: has been enlightened on the diplomatic powers of Facebook. Welcome to the rest of the world...." I don’t think I got so many “Likes” from internationals on that status than any other I had before…

NEW BORN : Kosovo Recap in 10 Points

2009-07-23T00:26:00.000-07:00

After the JADE Summer Meeting of Junior Enterprises in Prishtina, Kosovo,

I feel NEWBORN.

Some Hallmark Card once told me inspiration and hope have the power to give birth to a new sense of self, understanding, and purpose. Goddamit, it was right!

Right in the city center of Prishtina (the capital of Kosovo), there lies the letters to make up "NEWBORN" from Kosovo Independence Day on February 18, 2008. This makes it the youngest country in the world, which currently, 62 countries recognize--including the United States and Saudi Arabia. How to truly explain/organize my time there is difficult without being excessively verbose, so I have:

10 POINTS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MY TIME IN KOSOVO

1) HOLD UP? Where is Kosovo? What is a Kosovar?

Kosovo is located in the Balkans south of Serbia and north of Albania and Macedonia. Some of the borders are still disputed, as it is such a young country. Long story made VERY short, Kosovo for the longest time was part of Serbia. However, Kosovo is made up of ethnic Albanians mostly (though they have a multicultural/multiethnic population of Serbians and Turks) and Serbians are Serbians. Kosovars had been fighting for independence through the 90's until the conflict came to a violent head in 1999, when NATO (with the help of Bill Clinton) intervened. Later in 2008, Kosovo declared its independence. Though it is ethnically tied to Albania, there are many Serbian, Turkish, and Bulgarian Kosovars. Though they claim to practice Islam, most are just culturally Muslim.

The country is overwhelmingly multicultural, religiously plural, and multiethnic. There is a strong sense of being a KOSOVAR (kind of like what America used to be, right?)

2) WHY WAS I THERE???//WHAT IS JADE???

In May, I was in Brussels working with AEGEE (the European Students Forum) conducting the Ivy Europe Middle East Conference. Florent Barel, from JADE Junior Enterprises, was invited to speak at our conference. JADE is a network of 20,000+ Junior Entrepreneurs from around Europe, all of which run Junior Enterprises, which are like non-profit organizations/businesses that work in management, consulting, or product sales. The aim is to give practical experience to theoretical knowledge. JADE also has a sister network in Brazil, called Brazil Junior.

About a month later, I get an e-mail from Lindita Komani, JADE's international enlargement manager, saying (this is me paraphrasing in "Amuurican English") "Yo, we want JADE's network in America. We know you do this sorta thing. Come to Kosovo." To which my response was (after rethinking my trips to Greece or Amsterdam), HELL YES! (When else would I have the incentive to go to Kosovo...)

Throughout the year, JADE has various meetings to bring members together. This Summer Meeting was held in Prishtina with a focus on Sustainable Development in Business in the 21st century, particularly using Kosovo as a case study.

3) Kosovo is young. And Youthful.

Kosovo is truly a "NEWBORN" country, with under-30-year-olds making up about 70% of the population. Lets put this into perspective:

Upon meeting a professor from the American University of Kosovo, he invited me to meet his Professional Studies Class--where he teaches members of the cabinet about International Law, Politics, Political Economy etc. Classes to run a country basically. I went to a local cafe and basically had a beer with Kosovo's various ministers. Most were under 30.

The Director of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was 27. Yea. Most Americans this age can only do this sort of thing on "Empire Earth" or "Sim City." Youth are running this country.

Prishtina screams youth. There are almost as many discos as supermarkets. New store and cafe facades a la New York City pop up over old buildings with concrete peeling on top and barbed wire fences. Most of the youth are coming back from the USA or Austria to claim the opportunity of running their new country.

People are selling their farms to send their children to university. It is amazing.

When the panelists at the conference spoke to us, they spoke to us as if we were CEO's of major companies here to invest. The thing is, there is no franchising or branding. Kosovo depends on small start ups to invest. So essentially, we were their future. There is a spirit of entrepreneurship, of starting new, of starting something of one's own after years of, after one panelist put it, "Communism, Socialism, then I don't know what."

4) Kosovo is rebuilding with optimism

Okay, so the numbers look grim economically. 95% import with 5% export. Loans at 14-16%. Yet EVERYWHERE you look, there is building. Bricks and car sales are way up. They are trying to build a new power plant. Everyone is opening a cafe, a telecom company, an IT firm, a consultancy office, a bank, a disco. Barbed wire and the UNHCR building sit next to the Route 66 Burger Cafe. We visited many small start ups, including MDA (Consulting and Management), Cacttus (IT), and even a fashion designer, Krenare Rugova, who studied/worked at Parsons in NYC and in Paris (please see my fashion blog)

The conflict is visible, but deteriorating, quite literally. For instance, the 10-13 floors of "Grand Hotel Prishtina" where I stayed was accessible via stairs. These floors were used during the war as "Interrogation" centers (use your imagination), according to the American Journalists we met there. The floors were stripped of their carpet and there was evidence of old electrical fires. Look off the roof and you could see a city of satellites. Old concrete and barbed wire walls are falling. In their place, new facades and signs of new businesses were coming up.

As Mimoza Kusari, from the American Chamber of Commerce most powerfully said at a Panel on July 18th, “We exist. The war is over, it is long over. We have to be in charge. We have to be trusted.”

5) Religious Plurality (ahem Secularism) in Kosovo

Most people are surprised to know that Kosovo is made up of primarily Muslims. This is almost a misnomer. No where else can you hear an electronic, recorded call to prayer. This would be so Harram anywhere else. Most Kosovars are very secular. Religion is a cultural thing that poses no problem to them.

I did go to a 15th century Serbian Orthodox monastery in Kosovo, where I crashed three weddings in 30 minutes. It was guarded by Swedish military forces and I saw Irish NATO walking around. Kids were singing 50 cent to me while asking for money. I saw the most beautiful frescos of my life in that little monastery. I kissed them. The smell of incense came over me and a reverence filled me, like an imploding explosion. The Serbian Nun (who spoke perfect English) had help me out after a moment...

Christians and Muslims live in peace in Kosovo. They drink together, that is for damn sure.

6) Kosovo is Safe

Kosovo recently joined the IMF and the World Bank, as well as OPIC. This is a testament to the development of the country. Never did I feel directly in danger (though I always kept my guard up!) While there remains to be some ethnic tensions between Albanians and Serbians, some small crimes arising etc, this is nothing compared to say NYC or something. The War is over though. Move on friends.

7) Kosovo is Wired

I cannot get Youtube in Turkey, but I can in Kosovo. Free wi-fi zones are EVERYWHERE. We visited many small IT companies. Everyone has a cell phone, yet Vodafone does not exist there yet, only the domestic carrier, Ipko. Everyone is very knowledgeable of global news, culture, events. Satellites are everywhere. It was their only way out.

Driving down the broken highway on a flat tire listening to Kanye along the border is something I will never forget.

8) Kosovo LOVES America

Rt. 66 Burgers and Fries. American Flags everywhere. More than America. Bill Clinton Street intersecting with Mother Theresa Street. Celebrations for the 4th of July. People blessing me everywhere I went. People naming their children Bill Clinton or Hillary. This is about the only place on the European Continent where you see so much pride for America. Everyone speaks English too! (Along with Albanian)

9) Kosovo can be the Future

People seem to have forgotten about Kosovo in the scholarly community. Everyone is packing up and going to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict or Iraq. Perhaps rightfully so.

Yet Kosovo offers itself as a multicultural, multiethnic, religiously plural country, who needed help to be liberated with US intervention. Sounds like Iraq, right? Kosovo could be a model of post-conflict development if we only give it the chance to be so. We need to study it, give it a chance, invest in it, REMEMBER it.

In the main square, there is a building that says, in English, "WE ARE THE FUTURE." In many ways, they are. They have the capability to fashion a whole new sort of state and be the model to the world for this.

In short, this multiethnic, multicultural, religiously pluralistic (Muslim and Christian!), youthful, and young country is everything the EU wants to be and everything America stands for--at least value/ideal wise. Granted, Kosovo has a long way to go, but the fact that it symbolizes these values is gigantic.

10) Kosovo and Me

I suddenly find myself as a "soft" diplomat for America. I find myself thinking of different business plans every moment. I'm reading everything I can on the Balkans. I am basically giving myself a crash course in international investing and real estate. I'm so eager I cannot sleep.

I had a long conversation with Lindita (which I won't share entirely here). Lets just say that the memory of what Kosovo has gone through is definitely not forgotten, but there remains a spirit, not just in business, but in art, politics, and music too that exists to keep everyone going.

I don't know how such a small country can have such a huge power on me. Everyday, I get bombarded with emails and Facebook messages from curious Kosovars, who want to know why I was there, if I'm coming back, if I liked the country. They are the most curious, proud, and kind people I have met in quite some time.

I'm exhausted but energized with life. With pride. With Hope. With innovation. With creativity. "Yes, We Can" is a motto for the world, but "NEWBORN" is an idea for the future of it.

A Snapshot of Kosovo on 12 hours of Sleep... in 4 days

2009-07-19T14:32:00.000-07:00

I am broken. The struggle bus has a flat tire. I am officially going to my bed and praying the sheets are not going to make me break out in a rash.

But all this aside. I am more excited and inspired than I have been since.... well maybe ever.

Why? My experience in Kosovo.

I will go into this later, but I wanted to leave my community with a glimpse of the people, the nation, the spirit, and the nature of this self proclaimed "Newborn" country.

Flying back on a delayed jet, with no working camera, and little sleep, with a pilot who was probably a fighter jet pilot at some point by the barrel turns we made, I was seated next to a Turkish/ Albanian looking guy. He did not have the typical "Former Republic of Yugoslavia" look about him. He grabbed a Turkish newspaper and politely sat a seat away from me. He offered me chewing gum after our meal and that broke the ice (this is a trick I always use!) Turns out his father was Turkish but his mother was Albanian. He was living in Prishtina with his family. His wife is Bulgarian and their son's name is Edward. He owns two toystores. One in Prishtina and one in Istanbul. He traded in Istanbul and Hong Kong. His dream is to open a Toys "Rooys" or Toys 'R Us in Kosovo. He worked for 10 years without much money but the past 3 years have made it up. He is fluent in Albanian and Turkish, with decent English. He may have a Turkish passport, but he loves Kosovo as his own country and loves American for what it has done there and what it represents: multicultural, multifaith, strong democracy, entrepreneurial values.

After four days of meeting with the ministers of this country (most under 30, as 70% of the pop is under 30), young business people from all over Europe with JADE Junior Enterprise Network, and witnessing Kosovo, this story is a great picture of what Kosovo is becoming and is: multicultural, multifaith, a recent democracy, with stronger entrepreneurial instincts than what most American have. Plus they love American--Bill Clinton street intersects with Mother Teresa Street in the center of town.

Welcome to the best kept secret in political science, business, and the developing, post-conflict world. That no one knows about.

Now we do.

Adventure into Kurd Land: An Account in Photos

2009-07-13T16:15:00.000-07:00

I had one of the most amazing weekends of my life.

Yes, ladies and gents. I ventured into what I will call "Kurd land" --South East Anatolia. Yes, this is the same ethnic group in Northern Iraq that is fighting (sometimes very violently) for autonomy. I took my trusted co-worker Edgar, and two yalie friends, Lynda and Pawel on this journey.

My itinerary is as follows:

Friday: Fly to Urfa. Spend time there. Midnight drive North to Nemrut Dagi for Sunrise.

Saturday: Nemrut at Sunrise, travel south to Urfa. Travel to Mardin via Diyarbakir (known as the "capital" of the Kurds)

Sunday: Mardin then Hasankeyf. Spend the night with "Doga" or "Nature" NGO

Monday: Hasankeyf, Batman, and Diyarbakir before flying back to Istanbul

Because the experience is more personal and definitely in my journal, I will show some select pictures to you to explain some salient points.

URFA: Pictured above you see part of Urfa, one of the most religious cities in Turkey. My friends, I spent most of my day veiled. The call to prayer here is mystifying and powerful, as it should be for the birthplace of the prophet Abraham. Pictured here is the cave where he was born. Urfa had a unique effect on me: It was a farmer's town but also a salvage town of flea markets. Everyone had a moustache. It smelled like my bubby's house. In some odd way, I felt like I was revisiting my childhood and reinvestigating where I came from, on so many levels.

NEMRUT DAGI: Built in 62 BC, these statues of Greek, Persian, and Armenian Gods watch the sunrise everyday. I wanted to as well. So after calling up a travel company, we soon found ourselves driving through Kurdish countryside for 5 hours on back roads at midnight. Our driver, Yousef, was just about the craziest and most popular guy in the industry (which is tiny...not many international tourists come here). He had limericks and rhymes and nicknames for each of us. I was "Princess Diana Danielle Topatin." Apparently we were going to Mexico with him... Anyways. Nemrut Dagi to me was the most... well. I am lost for words. There are somethings that cannot and should not be described. I refused to take pictures of the sunrise itself (a sort of primordial soup that looked like the earth and sky were one, with a scar of red bleeding through the center), but found more interest in the awe of man. What is truly amazing is our reverence for nature. The fact that I climbed a mountain at 3 AM in FREEZING cold weather to see this is one thing. The sunrise itself is inexplicable. However, the fact that someone wanted to build a tomb or a monument up there in respect for nature--now that is inspiring.

Yousef also took us on more excursions to see Greek, Roman, Persian, Seljuk, and Ottoman ruins. Here I'm just climbing on a rock. Yes, that is a steep drop..... The little bugger, for 60+ years old was spry. Being that we were in bible land, he also took us to swim in the Euphrates. I discovered a love for apricots with him.

We got to Mardin, eventually (the bussing there... checkpoints because of Kurd/Turkish tension, kinda scary). It is a beautiful city on a hill. Perfect defense strategy because you could see so far into the distance, it looked like the earth and the sky were one. However, I can't say the same about the place we stayed. the walls were falling into the mountain side and the shower did not work. That said, I had a goodnight sleep there. We had an excellent dinner at a restaurant actually owned by a woman--the first I have seen outside of Istanbul. Normally men do the cooking. These pictures don't do the city justice. Look it up online. It is such an amazing city....

Next to Hasankeyf. My friends at TOG hooked me up with an NGO there called "Doga" or "Nature." They are trying to save Hasankeyf from the flooding the dam building will cause. Luckily, it stopped this past Wednesday! Hasankeyf it basically a city of caves along water. One of the most beautiful and untouched sites I have ever seen. The city only has one motel, but we stayed in the "Nature house" instead. Hence the inflatable couch you see--where I slept instead of the bed: I like couches more. It was a concrete building with plastic table clothes on the roof, but it was so quaint. Hasankeyf is only like 2,000 people and many have parents who used to live in the cave. The city dates back before Christ and has an amazing castle on a cliff--where I am standing, overlooking an old bridge. The river is the Tigris. So YES, I swam in BOTH the Tigris and Euphrates river. We joked that if we were carried away by the current, call Baghdad and warn them we will be there soon... Hasankeyf taught me about temperance, about living a life of happiness, simplicity, good fruit, and doing things when they need to be done. Live a good healthy life for your body--and don't be afraid to have a cigarette at 2 AM to get the mosquitos away.....

The next day we had breakfast in a cave and set out for Batman to go to Diyarbakir. We eventually get to Diyarbakir and tour the old Ulu Camii in the 43 degree celsius heat, or 109 degrees F. IT WAS HOT. We are eventually won over by an English/Spanish/turkish/Kurdish speaker outside of the mosque. I knew he was selling carpets. He took us in for chai a street over. Soon I was haggling for carpets. The one guy, Hasan, pictured above worked for ABC and NBC as a Kurdish translator. He showed me business cards of the men he worked with and how he does an international rug trade. Kurdish rugs are quite a different game. Apparently business has soured with recent conflict, but he loves the adventure it provides. We became great friends and I basically stole the rug I liked from him: a medium size on for my dorm room, half carpet, half kilim, made by nomad around 50 years ago. This place had OLD rugs... Not a SINGLE tourist in site. Who goes to the capital of the Kurds for vacation? Not even the Turks.... We also went to an Assyrian Church (not Orthodox under Batholomew) of like 30 people. The church was built in the 1100s and the people still worship there speak Aramaic... AMAZING.

So all in all this was an adventure. THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO TELL YOU I HAVE ONLY SCRATCHED THE 1%. I will stop though and you just have to ask me questions..... So many coincidences, so many experiences. So many thoughts. I loved this area. I feel in culture shock now.

BTW: MY RASH IS FROM MY DETERGENT! Yay for figuring that one out....

Refugees and "Ruffians": The Many Faces of Youth Work

2009-07-13T14:58:00.001-07:00

Get ready for a plethora of blog posts. I'm catching up after a busy work week and one of the most amazing weekends of my life.

So last Monday I went to the UNHCR refugee house here in Turkey. The refugees there were supposedly under 18, all men/boys, from Afghanistan, Guinea, and Sudan. They were found on the streets of Turkey and sent here. Turkey does not recognize anyone with "refugee" status outside of the EU (funny right?) so they are illegals, without status really, living in a house in Turkey that is loosely gated.

I went in, left my passport at the gate and proceeded to meet with the "mistress?" of the household. She told us about how the boys do not go to school, but rely on the kindness of strangers to give them classes in English, Turkish, and computers. They all try to get their paperwork done to try to go to countries that will accept them as refugees (like New Zealand and Australia)--this is a long and tough process though.

So I go in the Computer Salon. All of the Sudanese and some Afghans are there. Its mostly separated along racial lines, except for the few "diplomats" who learned English/Turkish or the other group's language and acts as a sort of voice for each group. Some boys picked up Turkish in only one year... So bright, so intelligent... Most of the boys who come anyways have to be bright-- how else could they escape their countries and get to Turkey?

But going back to race lines: The Sudanese seemed better dressed in athletic wear and took the computer room. The Afghans were in lounge wear and had the kitchen--they tended to be younger. The guys from Guinea were the oldest and biggest and owned the TV room. They spoke French.

All of them had cell phones--where they got them from or who they were calling, I know not. This is something I am going back to research. Most also had facebooks and used skype. They were very computer literate and all were soccer enthusiasts--- duh. Many had casts because of serious soccer games. Ouch.

We played some rather juvenile games with the guys, which I thought might be patronizing at first. But in the end, they were fun and brought all the races together for some fun. I liked it too. Someone asked if I felt uncomfortable being in a room with grown men (basically) who were refugees---if I felt threatened. In response: I feel more threatened on the streets of Istanbul by Turkish men than these men. I was treated with such respect.

I was so fascinated by the dynamics of the group, the stories these boys have to tell, and how the system works. I will be returning to work with the guys some more and basically, chill out with them. Often times, Youth Work means just inspiring someone....

NEXT: On Thursday I ended up taking a group of young Turkish Teenagers from TOG to the Istanbul Modern Art Museum. Now, I consider myself generally pretty good with Art History--I am in fact. Yet, there is always something refreshing about taking people who aren't "art snobs" to the art museum. There is something fresher and more honest in how they view the art. To me, going to a museum for Youth Work is an experience of somehow banging two facets of my life together: Art snobbery and frankness.

For instance, I can judge what influences of either French, American, German or British art movements might have affected the art there. However, I know nothing of the Turkish tradition. The boys would point at pictures and ask me not about the style or period, but rather where the picture was painted. Some of them, they recognized as parts of Istanbul. Other things, like the Turkish Peasant Revolutionaries (The Kuva-i Milliye) or Grease wrestling was important. The representation and history, the Turkish identity was so important to them--which I hadn't thought of. They also touched the oil paintings, making me CRINGE, so composure was different too.

On one painting of a nude woman, a boy took out his dictionary and said, "Contradiction." I asked why. He basically said that Turkish woman normally cover up and here she is nude! The same boy pointed out one of the artists and told me about his dislike for him as a writer apparently.

One boy really stayed close with me and a translator, curious about sharing what he thought of some of the more modern art. He relied on my interpretations, until I told him to share his first. The way he looked at things, searching for "representation," not necessarily some other things like color harmony, style, technique, blahblahblah--you gain a new respect for the artwork and the way it speaks to each individual. Each youngster spent a lot of time with each painting, more than I had expected in some ways. Normally people just breeze through... these youngsters spent a lot of time contemplating each painting--we couldn't even get through the whole gallery on the first floor in 2 hours!

So while my experience with youth work varies with different types of people and different places, I learned the value of listening, chilling, and the importance of just hoping you can inspire someone the way they inspire you...