It's the end of a month, a beginning of another
It's hard to believe that by the middle of May, I would have been here at work for three months. The amount of work has risen accordingly. Scheduling, finding, reviewing and managing form the bulk of my work. The joy however is made up of interacting with the few Filipinos in this company. I would suggest that if one had a company of all Pin@ys, the work would always get done so long as you don't get the typical bossy show-off managers.
Work has been intruding on my writing at the train, but I just have to make better decisions and I will continue to write. It's just that this week, for some reason, it was easier to be a vegetable at the train than do something else. My schedule is that on Monday and Tuesday, I leave at 5PM. Monday so that my work week begins at a slow pace. Tuesday I leave early because of the school for real estate appraisal. Wednesday and Thursday, I end up staying late till maybe 6 or 6:45. That is how much work that has to be done. Today, Friday, I don't know. No one usually stays late on Fridays except my boss so maybe I just leave at 6PM.
Felix the Fern is doing well at my office. I was thinking of bringing over a fountain, but maybe, I will just set up the fountain at my home. Ooops, it looks like I overwatered my fern. No matter, I will not be here on Sat and Sunday so he'll be rather dry then. The other plant at home was wilting last night and then I forgot to take care of it. I had to rush out of the shower today and water the plant before I forgot once more. I have to e-mail the SO to make sure she checks the plant.
My brother visited last week and my sister will visit next week. I feel bad about not getting to spend a lot of time with them, but work calls and I can't do sick time or vacation time because of my New York trip. That is a bummer. No matter, maybe I will try to visit by just travelling on a weekend or something like that.
My personal projects have been listed. I tried to get my photos from Ritz last night, but I could not. It was a no go because they close at 8PM. I got there late. Gotta start the album and get my internet site open.
Friday, April 30, 2004
Sunday, April 25, 2004
The SO's family
For those who have been wondering what SO means, it stands for significant other. While a member of the group Echo in New York, I heard this terminology used in the groups. Yup, I was a member of Echo while I was still at Berkeley early on in my graduate school. I began writing and bitching as an echoid and haven't stopped since. Sometimes, I wonder if the posts by one Berzerkeley are still being read in the echoid threads.
I will continue later as my brother is visiting and we're chatting it up about family.
Several days later, on a Thursday, I am back. Yup, the family of the SO had one of those large parties celebrating one of her uncle's birthdays. Awesome food, awesome food. The major players of the banquet were lechon king of fiestas, pinapaitan queen of soups, oysters the best of bbq, and fresh tuna cooked as Hawaiian poki. The lechon was cooked Pin@y style with a five year old kid staying up late at night fending off mountain lions as he turned the pig on the spit. The pinapaitan was made by Uncle B who slices and dices the ingredieants with love. The oyster was bought fresh at Seafood City. The fresh tuna was bought by the SO from the farmer's market in Vallejo.
Everyone was there. The party was fun but miraculously, it only lasted till about 9PM. That's because all the uncles and aunts went to gamble at Cash Creek. You know them Pin@ys. Food, Drink and Gambling. We make our religion work for us!
For those who have been wondering what SO means, it stands for significant other. While a member of the group Echo in New York, I heard this terminology used in the groups. Yup, I was a member of Echo while I was still at Berkeley early on in my graduate school. I began writing and bitching as an echoid and haven't stopped since. Sometimes, I wonder if the posts by one Berzerkeley are still being read in the echoid threads.
I will continue later as my brother is visiting and we're chatting it up about family.
Several days later, on a Thursday, I am back. Yup, the family of the SO had one of those large parties celebrating one of her uncle's birthdays. Awesome food, awesome food. The major players of the banquet were lechon king of fiestas, pinapaitan queen of soups, oysters the best of bbq, and fresh tuna cooked as Hawaiian poki. The lechon was cooked Pin@y style with a five year old kid staying up late at night fending off mountain lions as he turned the pig on the spit. The pinapaitan was made by Uncle B who slices and dices the ingredieants with love. The oyster was bought fresh at Seafood City. The fresh tuna was bought by the SO from the farmer's market in Vallejo.
Everyone was there. The party was fun but miraculously, it only lasted till about 9PM. That's because all the uncles and aunts went to gamble at Cash Creek. You know them Pin@ys. Food, Drink and Gambling. We make our religion work for us!
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Back home sa Bahay
I am once more back in the Bay Area. It's beautiful here in San Francisco. The air is clean; Bart is clean; and there is a light rain falling.
The visit to New York was short and sweet. I have to thank the SO for being so patient and not kicking my ass when my frustrations go the best of me. My legs were hurting and my body was aching due to all the walking and my patience was always on the edge. It was probably so because of my paranioa of being mugged and kidnapped. Although, who would want to kidnap a middle-aged fat bald guy who looks like Clark Gable?
Monday night on the way back to the hotel, the SO suddenly leaps out of the seat and goes out to the platform. Surprised because I did not expect for her to leave so soon, I followed. We figure out that we are one stop too early. I get all dramatic and my frustrations well up. I don't like to get lost. I get lost on my own. I don't need other people to help me get lost. So I had a discussion with the SO about leaving too early out of the subway in New York a place we are both unfamiliar with.
I am tired and my legs are hurting from all the walking we had done. Earlier, we had walked to Times Square in search of a subway that would take us to SOHO. I suggested the red train going to the south. The SO insisted on another train. Later on, I look it up on the map and see that there are transfer stations. I forgot that the SO had never been in New York and did not know about transfer stations. We walked for about twenty minutes to get to the blue line.
This was probably another source of my frustration. Having to walk to Times Square before and after dinner. But I sat down and thought it over. Maybe it was destined to be to walk to Times Square. Maybe Tikbalang and Kapre are telling the SO that there is something to see. Well, we were in 42nd St. already. We might as well go out. Lo and behold, there is a tile mosaic in the station that we had not seen before. Awesome! Who would have thought? I went about apologizing to the SO and realized that sometimes, things do happen for a reason. Tikbalang and Kapre just needs to be more obvious about the way they communicate.
I ended up photographing about 1000 images of New York. Some of it are just bracketing repeats for exposure, but hey, they count. I'll try to post them somewhere soon.
I am once more back in the Bay Area. It's beautiful here in San Francisco. The air is clean; Bart is clean; and there is a light rain falling.
The visit to New York was short and sweet. I have to thank the SO for being so patient and not kicking my ass when my frustrations go the best of me. My legs were hurting and my body was aching due to all the walking and my patience was always on the edge. It was probably so because of my paranioa of being mugged and kidnapped. Although, who would want to kidnap a middle-aged fat bald guy who looks like Clark Gable?
Monday night on the way back to the hotel, the SO suddenly leaps out of the seat and goes out to the platform. Surprised because I did not expect for her to leave so soon, I followed. We figure out that we are one stop too early. I get all dramatic and my frustrations well up. I don't like to get lost. I get lost on my own. I don't need other people to help me get lost. So I had a discussion with the SO about leaving too early out of the subway in New York a place we are both unfamiliar with.
I am tired and my legs are hurting from all the walking we had done. Earlier, we had walked to Times Square in search of a subway that would take us to SOHO. I suggested the red train going to the south. The SO insisted on another train. Later on, I look it up on the map and see that there are transfer stations. I forgot that the SO had never been in New York and did not know about transfer stations. We walked for about twenty minutes to get to the blue line.
This was probably another source of my frustration. Having to walk to Times Square before and after dinner. But I sat down and thought it over. Maybe it was destined to be to walk to Times Square. Maybe Tikbalang and Kapre are telling the SO that there is something to see. Well, we were in 42nd St. already. We might as well go out. Lo and behold, there is a tile mosaic in the station that we had not seen before. Awesome! Who would have thought? I went about apologizing to the SO and realized that sometimes, things do happen for a reason. Tikbalang and Kapre just needs to be more obvious about the way they communicate.
I ended up photographing about 1000 images of New York. Some of it are just bracketing repeats for exposure, but hey, they count. I'll try to post them somewhere soon.
Monday, April 19, 2004
Fallen Angels Spawned by New York
I just realized that Manhattan is the city that created the poet Eileen Tabios. I wonder if the angels came to her while she was in New York or whether she always had said angels. I can see her ghost walking the sidestreets of NY. Said ghost making comments about the city as 10 million peeps watch.
I just realized that Manhattan is the city that created the poet Eileen Tabios. I wonder if the angels came to her while she was in New York or whether she always had said angels. I can see her ghost walking the sidestreets of NY. Said ghost making comments about the city as 10 million peeps watch.
New York is a Baseball Town
Yesterday, the whole day was spent going to Flushing and Shea Stadium. It was exciting because it's my first time to go throughthe subway. We went through some areas where there was graffitti everywhere. It is modern man's attempt to make a literal mark ont he world and be remembered. This instinct to write and mark your name must be in the soul of humanity or something. From pre-historic artwork or palm prints to writing your name in the style of graffiti, human have a desire to be recognized for something.
By the way, hi-hello-hi-hi to Durgas, She Who Hails From Jersey. I'm sorry I can't visit or hang out. The SO and I are doing all those wonderful touristy stuff. In the next few visits, maybe we'll be able to visit people. Pietro of SCF: I tried to post to scf, but my account was inaccesible. I was going to leave a message that we were in Manhattan.
Shea Stadium is a nice ballpark. I specially liked those line drawings on the wall of the stadium. The orange seats/boxes in the loge/field level were also exceptional with respect to giving one a treat for the eyes. Talk about bright. I don't remember Dodgers Stadium being that bright. The food was excellent. Maybe it was because we were hungry, but the cheese over the fries was pretty good considering that the cheese came from a can marked Velveeta. The Godzilladogs were tasty with a serving of sauerkraut. I did not realize that you can serve the sauerkraut hot over the dog. How come we don't do that in the west coast? and over here, there are no onions or pickles. Mustard, catsup or sauerkraut. That's it.
I decided that since we don't go to Shea Stadium that often, that we should go to the field level. I'm sorry, but I am just not brave enough to go to Section 22 which I heard is for those hardcore Mets fans. The bleachers were $2, a special for the visiting Pirates. I even heard a seventy year old father speak to his fifty year old son about the Dodgers and how they are doing. I almost interrupted them, until I realized that the father lives in a home. The son said, "You should tell them that youa are allowed to stay late. There is no restriction to your staying late and listening to the Dodgers." Hearing the voice of Scully will bring back your youth or images and remembrances of youth, I suppose.
There was a bunch of kids watching the game. As expected with groups, they acted rowdily. They shouted at Karim Garcia, former Dodgers player, so that Karim would throw the ball over. They screamed at Raul Mondesi, former Dodgers player mired in obscurity since leaving the team, until Raul nailed a runner at home with a beadline throw. At the end of the game, they cheered for the Pirates instead of the Mets. The grown-ups were giving all of them a look that would wither plants or pets. But being children, they were oblivious. Finally, someone lost his patience and shouted at them to shut up. Like children, they bounced back and shut up for a few seconds before coming back louder than ever.
I ended up buying a Mets jersey with Piazza on the back. He is one of the best catchers in baseball. I cried when he left the Dodgers, but I also understand that the Dodgers screwed that one up. Piazza is chasing the record for homeruns for a catcher. However, there have been questions about him being gay. If he is, I was hoping that he would be strong enough to come out in public, but that might be too much to ask for your idols. To have physical character to break records and the human integrity or strength to be go against what is accepted.
On the way back, I was photographing the subway and the scenes outside of the train. I will post it somewhere else.
Yesterday, the whole day was spent going to Flushing and Shea Stadium. It was exciting because it's my first time to go throughthe subway. We went through some areas where there was graffitti everywhere. It is modern man's attempt to make a literal mark ont he world and be remembered. This instinct to write and mark your name must be in the soul of humanity or something. From pre-historic artwork or palm prints to writing your name in the style of graffiti, human have a desire to be recognized for something.
By the way, hi-hello-hi-hi to Durgas, She Who Hails From Jersey. I'm sorry I can't visit or hang out. The SO and I are doing all those wonderful touristy stuff. In the next few visits, maybe we'll be able to visit people. Pietro of SCF: I tried to post to scf, but my account was inaccesible. I was going to leave a message that we were in Manhattan.
Shea Stadium is a nice ballpark. I specially liked those line drawings on the wall of the stadium. The orange seats/boxes in the loge/field level were also exceptional with respect to giving one a treat for the eyes. Talk about bright. I don't remember Dodgers Stadium being that bright. The food was excellent. Maybe it was because we were hungry, but the cheese over the fries was pretty good considering that the cheese came from a can marked Velveeta. The Godzilladogs were tasty with a serving of sauerkraut. I did not realize that you can serve the sauerkraut hot over the dog. How come we don't do that in the west coast? and over here, there are no onions or pickles. Mustard, catsup or sauerkraut. That's it.
I decided that since we don't go to Shea Stadium that often, that we should go to the field level. I'm sorry, but I am just not brave enough to go to Section 22 which I heard is for those hardcore Mets fans. The bleachers were $2, a special for the visiting Pirates. I even heard a seventy year old father speak to his fifty year old son about the Dodgers and how they are doing. I almost interrupted them, until I realized that the father lives in a home. The son said, "You should tell them that youa are allowed to stay late. There is no restriction to your staying late and listening to the Dodgers." Hearing the voice of Scully will bring back your youth or images and remembrances of youth, I suppose.
There was a bunch of kids watching the game. As expected with groups, they acted rowdily. They shouted at Karim Garcia, former Dodgers player, so that Karim would throw the ball over. They screamed at Raul Mondesi, former Dodgers player mired in obscurity since leaving the team, until Raul nailed a runner at home with a beadline throw. At the end of the game, they cheered for the Pirates instead of the Mets. The grown-ups were giving all of them a look that would wither plants or pets. But being children, they were oblivious. Finally, someone lost his patience and shouted at them to shut up. Like children, they bounced back and shut up for a few seconds before coming back louder than ever.
I ended up buying a Mets jersey with Piazza on the back. He is one of the best catchers in baseball. I cried when he left the Dodgers, but I also understand that the Dodgers screwed that one up. Piazza is chasing the record for homeruns for a catcher. However, there have been questions about him being gay. If he is, I was hoping that he would be strong enough to come out in public, but that might be too much to ask for your idols. To have physical character to break records and the human integrity or strength to be go against what is accepted.
On the way back, I was photographing the subway and the scenes outside of the train. I will post it somewhere else.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum of Art
The SO suggested that we walk down to Tiffany's Jewelry store and then to the Met by walking next to the the Central Park. I was a fool to agree. Perhaps, it was nice to take a walk, but I was carrying a backpack in which was a leather jacket and some other che-che-burete. It was close to 10 lbs. And to top it all off, the weather was in the 70's. I did not need my rugby shirt at all! Another thing to carry in the backpack.
On the positive side, I finally made it to the Met where the Egyptian tomb is located. This is the room that is shown in "When Harry Met Sally" which is one of my favorite movies. Simply awesome. Last time in NY, I was not able to enter the room. I believe they had a party or something like that. This time around, the carvings on the tomb and the sarcophagus were there for my perusal. Of course, there was no drama like in WHMS, thank goodness!
It's been great travelling with the SO. She's very low maintenance. I am probably more maintenance hungry than her. Today, our food was : breakfast (leftover pastrami and blintz); lunch (hotdog somewhere around Central Park); meryenda (cheese and sausage at the Met); dinner (pizza at Ray's 24 hour pizza place).
The SO suggested that we walk down to Tiffany's Jewelry store and then to the Met by walking next to the the Central Park. I was a fool to agree. Perhaps, it was nice to take a walk, but I was carrying a backpack in which was a leather jacket and some other che-che-burete. It was close to 10 lbs. And to top it all off, the weather was in the 70's. I did not need my rugby shirt at all! Another thing to carry in the backpack.
On the positive side, I finally made it to the Met where the Egyptian tomb is located. This is the room that is shown in "When Harry Met Sally" which is one of my favorite movies. Simply awesome. Last time in NY, I was not able to enter the room. I believe they had a party or something like that. This time around, the carvings on the tomb and the sarcophagus were there for my perusal. Of course, there was no drama like in WHMS, thank goodness!
It's been great travelling with the SO. She's very low maintenance. I am probably more maintenance hungry than her. Today, our food was : breakfast (leftover pastrami and blintz); lunch (hotdog somewhere around Central Park); meryenda (cheese and sausage at the Met); dinner (pizza at Ray's 24 hour pizza place).
Tall buildings
One difference from other cities is that New York has skyscrapers reaching to the skies. You can see it from the airplane. You can gaze at them from the ground. And as you look up, you get dizzy by the height that they reach.
With brick facades, the buildings are very personable. I am more used to the glass and steel structures which predominate in the earthquake world of California. There are steel and glass structures here to be sure and they reach higher than the ones I have seen in SF.
I suppose it has been the local zoning laws which have prevented CA from having skyscrapers like these. But then again, West Coast cities are really young compared to NY. SF has not needed the space like NY has needed. Seven and a half million people live in Manhattan. In LA, I believe it was 2.5 million people spread out over a large area.
We went to Times Square last night and it was crowded like a sardine can when the theatres let out. By the way, I saw a poster of Dixie Carter in yellowface as some sort of Asian woman singing about the Far EAst. I wonder why white people still think it's okay to put on yellow face when they know and they don't dare put on blackface.
More on that later after some more reflection and cogitation.
One difference from other cities is that New York has skyscrapers reaching to the skies. You can see it from the airplane. You can gaze at them from the ground. And as you look up, you get dizzy by the height that they reach.
With brick facades, the buildings are very personable. I am more used to the glass and steel structures which predominate in the earthquake world of California. There are steel and glass structures here to be sure and they reach higher than the ones I have seen in SF.
I suppose it has been the local zoning laws which have prevented CA from having skyscrapers like these. But then again, West Coast cities are really young compared to NY. SF has not needed the space like NY has needed. Seven and a half million people live in Manhattan. In LA, I believe it was 2.5 million people spread out over a large area.
We went to Times Square last night and it was crowded like a sardine can when the theatres let out. By the way, I saw a poster of Dixie Carter in yellowface as some sort of Asian woman singing about the Far EAst. I wonder why white people still think it's okay to put on yellow face when they know and they don't dare put on blackface.
More on that later after some more reflection and cogitation.
A letter from New York
Sent to my friends from graduate school:
Hey everyone! Guess where I am at. Here are some clues:
M____ spent one and a half years of trauma in this location.
For dinner, we ate a $12 pastrami sandwich and a $14 blintz.
We went through doggy poop alley or as some would say, Upper East Side.
With the description mentioned above, could someone please slap M____ around and tell him that his nightmare is over. He is no longer in New York, but M_____ and I are!
The itinerary for today is Tiffany's the jewelry store, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Natural History. It's great to see what the white man has stolen from the third world (no offense J_____. As a prof at Texas, you qualify as an economically disadvantaged person).
M____, the sirens of the cops, the lights being reflected from the streets, cars and god knows where else is still here. We actually went through Upper East Side and I believe I saw that market where you dropped by to buy some food.
Nice place to visit. We went walking to Times Square and it reminded me of Manila with the street vendors. Paul Jordin watches anyone? HOw about I love new york tee shirts? and how about some photographs of you while walking around? We actually did our portrait by a Chinese artist who sketches using charcoal and a pad. There are many Chinese artists on the streets drawing and presumably making a living. I hope they make lots of money.
God Bless America! and God Bless YOU GUYS!
Take care,
karinderia.blogspot.com
Sent to my friends from graduate school:
Hey everyone! Guess where I am at. Here are some clues:
M____ spent one and a half years of trauma in this location.
For dinner, we ate a $12 pastrami sandwich and a $14 blintz.
We went through doggy poop alley or as some would say, Upper East Side.
With the description mentioned above, could someone please slap M____ around and tell him that his nightmare is over. He is no longer in New York, but M_____ and I are!
The itinerary for today is Tiffany's the jewelry store, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Natural History. It's great to see what the white man has stolen from the third world (no offense J_____. As a prof at Texas, you qualify as an economically disadvantaged person).
M____, the sirens of the cops, the lights being reflected from the streets, cars and god knows where else is still here. We actually went through Upper East Side and I believe I saw that market where you dropped by to buy some food.
Nice place to visit. We went walking to Times Square and it reminded me of Manila with the street vendors. Paul Jordin watches anyone? HOw about I love new york tee shirts? and how about some photographs of you while walking around? We actually did our portrait by a Chinese artist who sketches using charcoal and a pad. There are many Chinese artists on the streets drawing and presumably making a living. I hope they make lots of money.
God Bless America! and God Bless YOU GUYS!
Take care,
karinderia.blogspot.com
Friday, April 16, 2004
New York Never Sleeps
It is now two o'clock in the morning in the city that never sleeps. I can still hear the honking of the taxis as they vie for a course on the road. I am staying in the 17th floor of a hotel near Times Square. At least the sky is black at night. Seven years ago, when I stayed with a friend of mine, the sky was gray because of all the light from the streets and the cars and the billboards.
Got in New York at about five in the evening. Thank goodness for daylight savings time. JFK was rather far from Times Square area. But, the taxi drive was invigorating. It reminded me again why New York taxi drivers are an adventure in itself.
Times Square is a blast with respect to photography. There are many "professional photographers" waiting to take your photo. Many of them just have a digital camera and a printer. They do not have one clue on how to take an interesting background. Some of the photographers are so nasty that they actually display photos of women with their underwear showing. I don't know why they do that, it is nasty.
There is something beautiful about the ability of people to sell their services on the streets of New YOrk. The SO and I had our portrait done by a Chinese man drawing on the sidewalk of New York. He managed to capture the eyes very well thought the SO. I thought that he managed to make people look the way they would look if they were perfect and underweight. I looked like I was 20 pounds lighter.
There are many street vendors here. They sell hotdogs and sausages and even shish kabobs. Who would have thought that you could find a slice of Manila in the middle of New York? Next thing you know, some Pin@y would start selling fish balls. That would be the end of capitalism. Who can resist fish balls?
It is now two o'clock in the morning in the city that never sleeps. I can still hear the honking of the taxis as they vie for a course on the road. I am staying in the 17th floor of a hotel near Times Square. At least the sky is black at night. Seven years ago, when I stayed with a friend of mine, the sky was gray because of all the light from the streets and the cars and the billboards.
Got in New York at about five in the evening. Thank goodness for daylight savings time. JFK was rather far from Times Square area. But, the taxi drive was invigorating. It reminded me again why New York taxi drivers are an adventure in itself.
Times Square is a blast with respect to photography. There are many "professional photographers" waiting to take your photo. Many of them just have a digital camera and a printer. They do not have one clue on how to take an interesting background. Some of the photographers are so nasty that they actually display photos of women with their underwear showing. I don't know why they do that, it is nasty.
There is something beautiful about the ability of people to sell their services on the streets of New YOrk. The SO and I had our portrait done by a Chinese man drawing on the sidewalk of New York. He managed to capture the eyes very well thought the SO. I thought that he managed to make people look the way they would look if they were perfect and underweight. I looked like I was 20 pounds lighter.
There are many street vendors here. They sell hotdogs and sausages and even shish kabobs. Who would have thought that you could find a slice of Manila in the middle of New York? Next thing you know, some Pin@y would start selling fish balls. That would be the end of capitalism. Who can resist fish balls?
Thursday, April 15, 2004
PCN as a tool for decolonization
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
For some reason, my machine is doiong weird stuff. I will post later. I go to New York tomorrow so if you make sure that you enjoy your time in the weekend.
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
For some reason, my machine is doiong weird stuff. I will post later. I go to New York tomorrow so if you make sure that you enjoy your time in the weekend.
PCN as a tool for decolonization
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
I mentioned to my friend that I have this project of documenting PCN. One of the people/sudents I would like to meet and to interview is the Filipino who does not think he needs to decolonize. That person would be interesting to know because it would be a reflection of who I was at a much younger age. When I was in college, I felt that I knew what was important about culture and the history of the Philippines. I thought that compared to the history of Europe, the history of the PHilippines was worthless. Little did I know just how short my education and my lack of critical thinking had stranded me.
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
I mentioned to my friend that I have this project of documenting PCN. One of the people/sudents I would like to meet and to interview is the Filipino who does not think he needs to decolonize. That person would be interesting to know because it would be a reflection of who I was at a much younger age. When I was in college, I felt that I knew what was important about culture and the history of the Philippines. I thought that compared to the history of Europe, the history of the PHilippines was worthless. Little did I know just how short my education and my lack of critical thinking had stranded me.
PCN as a tool for decolonization
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
I was a guest lecture at St. Mary's College yesterday. I discussed Pilipino Cultural Night (PCN) as a tool for the decolonization of Filipino-Americans. My lecture was kept on track by Powerpoint which is an excellent presentation tool. I wonder how good the Apple version of presentation software is.
One of the points I tried to make to the students was that PCN offers a first step towards decolonization by allowing students to practice culture in a legitimate location. It is acceptable to learn and perform tinikling because of a cultural night at Zellerbach Hall. To practice dancing between two bamboo poles without an upcoming performance would be less acceptable.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
The students were composed of about 90% minorities which was a great thing because I felt more comfortable, and I thought that the lecture was more useful for them. I would have to wonder what a Caucasian person would use a lecture on decolonization for. Ideally, to understand his/her place in the whole colonizer world. But I doubt that this occurs.
Sunday, April 11, 2004
Jesus is one of the many Buddhas
While speaking to a friend who is a Buddhist, I heard her speak one of those statements of truths.
And I suppose this is what makes Christianity so different from Buddhism. Christ is seen as the only way of salvation. One could be good, but if one does not follow Christ, one is not saved. Whereas in Buddhism, there is a reliance on your actions. It does not matter if you follow a particular Buddha or not.
In some ways, I can see why some people call Christianity a cult.
While speaking to a friend who is a Buddhist, I heard her speak one of those statements of truths.
"There are many Buddhas. You or I can be a Buddha dependin on how we live our life."
And I suppose this is what makes Christianity so different from Buddhism. Christ is seen as the only way of salvation. One could be good, but if one does not follow Christ, one is not saved. Whereas in Buddhism, there is a reliance on your actions. It does not matter if you follow a particular Buddha or not.
In some ways, I can see why some people call Christianity a cult.
Get a divorce!
From Barbara's blog, I read a story about Pin@y dying in Australia. In their haste to leave the poverty, the women run towards Australia and find death waiting in the riches of the continent. A message to men in general: When you separate with the Filipina, why don't you pursue divorce instead of bashing their skulls in? Divorce leaves you outside of prison.
From Barbara's blog, I read a story about Pin@y dying in Australia. In their haste to leave the poverty, the women run towards Australia and find death waiting in the riches of the continent. A message to men in general: When you separate with the Filipina, why don't you pursue divorce instead of bashing their skulls in? Divorce leaves you outside of prison.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
Onward Christian Soldier
I always thought that Christians were the most uninteresting people. Let's face it. The ones I have met in Berkeley always want to speak about Jesus and try to convert me into their church. No offense, but I have enough problems with one Catholic church. I don't need to add the problems of another church.
But just when I have about given up on Christian Pin@y bloggers, along came backspaced to return my faith on the indomitable spirit of humanity to overcome whatever restraints are placed upon them. Backspaced it the Pin@y Blog of the Day for the 10th of April 2004.
I always thought that Christians were the most uninteresting people. Let's face it. The ones I have met in Berkeley always want to speak about Jesus and try to convert me into their church. No offense, but I have enough problems with one Catholic church. I don't need to add the problems of another church.
But just when I have about given up on Christian Pin@y bloggers, along came backspaced to return my faith on the indomitable spirit of humanity to overcome whatever restraints are placed upon them. Backspaced it the Pin@y Blog of the Day for the 10th of April 2004.
The ring, one ring
I don't know what this dream means, but I dreamt that I finally bought the engagement ring. What is odd is that it was in a blue box. I bought it somewhere in San Francisco. And all I remember was how it glittered. Hmm, now I have to go searching for a real ring patterned after the ring in my dream? Thank goodness it did not have writing that glittered when the ring is placed in fire. No weird chanting voices came out either.
I don't know what this dream means, but I dreamt that I finally bought the engagement ring. What is odd is that it was in a blue box. I bought it somewhere in San Francisco. And all I remember was how it glittered. Hmm, now I have to go searching for a real ring patterned after the ring in my dream? Thank goodness it did not have writing that glittered when the ring is placed in fire. No weird chanting voices came out either.
Friday, April 09, 2004
Looking at the Stars from the Gutter
What do physicians think while they are in their training in medical school? Just what do they encounter in school to make them become healers? Now you have the chance to find out. gutterboy tells you all about his life and training from circumcision to alanis, and for that gutterboy is the Pinoy Blog of the Day for the 9th of April 2004.
What do physicians think while they are in their training in medical school? Just what do they encounter in school to make them become healers? Now you have the chance to find out. gutterboy tells you all about his life and training from circumcision to alanis, and for that gutterboy is the Pinoy Blog of the Day for the 9th of April 2004.
Babaylan Speaks
Dear Friends,
April's featured poet is Maiana Minahal with her poem "stolen kali" (written for a poetry/kali collaboration with Gura Michelle Bautista). Other items mentioned are
1) "Before Their Words," a multidisciplinary performance in San Francisco with Maiana, Michelle, Nedjula Baguio and Rona Fernandez;
2) Michelle and Eileen Tabios's poetry/kali performance coming up at Mills College;
3) information on Eileen's latest e-poetry chapbook CRUCIAL BLISS EPILOGUES;
4) a review of Eileen's short story collection BEHIND THE BLUE CANVAS (Giraffe, 2004); and
5) information on Eileen Tabios's poetry reading in Los Angeles on April 25, with guest artist Mary Talusan.
Happy Reading!
Jade Afable
Associate Editor
Meritage Press
Dear Friends,
April's featured poet is Maiana Minahal with her poem "stolen kali" (written for a poetry/kali collaboration with Gura Michelle Bautista). Other items mentioned are
1) "Before Their Words," a multidisciplinary performance in San Francisco with Maiana, Michelle, Nedjula Baguio and Rona Fernandez;
2) Michelle and Eileen Tabios's poetry/kali performance coming up at Mills College;
3) information on Eileen's latest e-poetry chapbook CRUCIAL BLISS EPILOGUES;
4) a review of Eileen's short story collection BEHIND THE BLUE CANVAS (Giraffe, 2004); and
5) information on Eileen Tabios's poetry reading in Los Angeles on April 25, with guest artist Mary Talusan.
Happy Reading!
Jade Afable
Associate Editor
Meritage Press
JOKE LANG COMEDY NIGHT
There will be a comedy night to benefit the International Hotel. Those living in the San Francisco Bay Area should know about the history of the I Hotel because it is an example of the collision between modernization and the social welfare of the elderly. In life, society and we as members of society make choices which are not often the best choice for those of us who do not have the financial werewithal to fight.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Doors open: 6pm, Show starts: 6:30 pm
Zellerbach Auditorium, UC Berkeley
Featuring
Rex Navarette, Kevin Camia Brent Weinbachand MORE! Experience live music by SPAMSILOG
A BENEFIT FOR THE RISE OF THE INTERNATIONAL HOTEL AND THE MANILATOWN CENTER
The International Hotel was the home for many Chinese and Filipino elderly immigrants, and was the last standing block of a 10-block area that was previously known as Manilatown. From 1968 to 1977 the International Hotel Tenants Association led the defense of their home against eviction, for affordable housing, and preservation of their Chinatown-Manilatown community. The new International Hotel and the Manilatown Center will be opening in May 2005.
$10 Pre-sale, sliding scale $10-15(+) @ DOOR, general seating
questions?: JokeLang_2004@hotmail.com
There will be a comedy night to benefit the International Hotel. Those living in the San Francisco Bay Area should know about the history of the I Hotel because it is an example of the collision between modernization and the social welfare of the elderly. In life, society and we as members of society make choices which are not often the best choice for those of us who do not have the financial werewithal to fight.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Doors open: 6pm, Show starts: 6:30 pm
Zellerbach Auditorium, UC Berkeley
Featuring
Rex Navarette, Kevin Camia Brent Weinbachand MORE! Experience live music by SPAMSILOG
A BENEFIT FOR THE RISE OF THE INTERNATIONAL HOTEL AND THE MANILATOWN CENTER
The International Hotel was the home for many Chinese and Filipino elderly immigrants, and was the last standing block of a 10-block area that was previously known as Manilatown. From 1968 to 1977 the International Hotel Tenants Association led the defense of their home against eviction, for affordable housing, and preservation of their Chinatown-Manilatown community. The new International Hotel and the Manilatown Center will be opening in May 2005.
$10 Pre-sale, sliding scale $10-15(+) @ DOOR, general seating
questions?: JokeLang_2004@hotmail.com
Thursday, April 08, 2004
She Has Nothing to Say
curlytops supposedly has difficulty putting into words her experience. I wish I had her gift of writing then because she manages to cut into the beauty of life using Taglish. Normally, I would wince at the mix of languages, but with curlytops' writing I sense the drama and the dignity of everyday life in the Philippines. Her blog is the Pin@y Blog of the Day for the 8th of April 2004. Check out her March 29 2004 entry about "Dalaga na si Bunso" and you will understand the speed of time coursing around you.
curlytops supposedly has difficulty putting into words her experience. I wish I had her gift of writing then because she manages to cut into the beauty of life using Taglish. Normally, I would wince at the mix of languages, but with curlytops' writing I sense the drama and the dignity of everyday life in the Philippines. Her blog is the Pin@y Blog of the Day for the 8th of April 2004. Check out her March 29 2004 entry about "Dalaga na si Bunso" and you will understand the speed of time coursing around you.
Pilipino Cultural Night
I have a lecture coming up next week. I will be discussing PCN's with respect to history, decolonization, power relations, and essentialism. As a result, I have been spending time writing on the BART going to and from work, and I have not been blogging lately also.
PCN has been one of the more interesting animals I have come across. At first, the necessity of PCN eluded me. "Why do you have to dance Philippine folk dance again? To know your Pin@y culture? Didn't your parents teach you that already? Your grades are suffering! You should drop PCN and study!" is usually the stuff I would mutter to myself.
But time has a great way of showing you why some things are important. Going to grad school allowed me to analyze America and its associated systems of government and laws. History made me realize just how important it is for someone to be able to obtain data about one's own people. And my own dramatic decrease in facility with the Tagalog language woke me up to the rapidity with which culture and language can be lost in a place away from the Philippines.
I have tried to photograph and document the PCN's from 2000 to 2004. But something has always come up and made me unavailable. Just recently, however, I realized that maybe I needed to have this four years of not seeing PCN so that I can be ready for some project. While preparing the lecture, I realized that maybe, I would be in a position to document PCN at UC Berkeley in a documentary.
The timing is almost right. In two years, it would have been twenty years since I first set foot on the Berkeley campus and heard about the Pilipino-American Alliance. I would like to see the differences between the students who are entering Berkeley now versus the students who entered in the 1980's. PCN itself just celebrated 25 years at Berkeley several years ago (maybe in 1999?).
I will see how the stars align.
I have a lecture coming up next week. I will be discussing PCN's with respect to history, decolonization, power relations, and essentialism. As a result, I have been spending time writing on the BART going to and from work, and I have not been blogging lately also.
PCN has been one of the more interesting animals I have come across. At first, the necessity of PCN eluded me. "Why do you have to dance Philippine folk dance again? To know your Pin@y culture? Didn't your parents teach you that already? Your grades are suffering! You should drop PCN and study!" is usually the stuff I would mutter to myself.
But time has a great way of showing you why some things are important. Going to grad school allowed me to analyze America and its associated systems of government and laws. History made me realize just how important it is for someone to be able to obtain data about one's own people. And my own dramatic decrease in facility with the Tagalog language woke me up to the rapidity with which culture and language can be lost in a place away from the Philippines.
I have tried to photograph and document the PCN's from 2000 to 2004. But something has always come up and made me unavailable. Just recently, however, I realized that maybe I needed to have this four years of not seeing PCN so that I can be ready for some project. While preparing the lecture, I realized that maybe, I would be in a position to document PCN at UC Berkeley in a documentary.
The timing is almost right. In two years, it would have been twenty years since I first set foot on the Berkeley campus and heard about the Pilipino-American Alliance. I would like to see the differences between the students who are entering Berkeley now versus the students who entered in the 1980's. PCN itself just celebrated 25 years at Berkeley several years ago (maybe in 1999?).
I will see how the stars align.
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Advice to a College Senior
First off, congratulations on getting admitted to a University of California campus. Only the top 10% of high school graduates earn that distinction. The way in which the state of California designed the state schools, those who have a higher chance of continuing to advanced degrees like a master degree or a doctorate in philosophy generally attend the UC campuses.
However, you really wanted to get into UCLA and not UC Davis. What to do? What to do? I already have spoken to you about this before. The students who usually get into Berkeley or UCLA are those who want that school so badly that they will do anything to get into the school. That means special projects, going the extra mile in extra-curricular activities, and playing sports. And yes, appealing a rejection letter to UCLA is part of that taste in your mouth.
If your pride does not allow you to write an appeal and plan a course of action to show just how much you want UCLA, then the school might just be right in rejecting your application. Every applicant is smart, has the extra-curricular activities and is distinguished. The only difference among students is what resides in their heart.
"But what about family? What about my sister? What about my parents?" you ask. As with anything else, this decision must be based on what you yourself want not only at this time point in your life, but also in the future, say twenty years from now. What is your gut instinct telling you to do? Do you belong in UCLA or in Davis? Are you going to be happy staying at home? Are you going to be happy in Davis? Or, do you know that you belong to UCLA?
The exceptional students do not let anything hamper them from attaining their desires. This is just another challenge thrown your way. I personally scoff when people say that their family can not afford college. This is America. If you want it bad enough you will find a way. It's time to grow up.
Ten or twenty years from now, your parents will be in the grave. Your siblings will be married with their families. Where will you be? Will you be regretting your choice in school? The ones who do well in life are the ones who sought and chased after their dreams. In life, achievable dreams come so rarely. Choosing your college is one of them. Do not just think about the now. Think about yourself in the future.
Why do I personally care about your situation? Because I have seen talented Filipinos SETTLE for less than what they are worth because of FEAR. If I stand by and let talented people settle, pretty soon, the Filipino community will be full of people who settled. Life is not about settling. Life is about living.
Twenty years ago, my father was dying of leukemia. I had to choose a college. I was already accepted into UCLA. But, Berkeley came calling to me. Berkeley offered scholarships. Going to Berkeley would mean leaving my mother and family. I would have to be alone. In my gut, I knew I had to go to Berkeley. Seeing Berkeley for the first time made me wince, because it was not as pretty as UCLA. In the end though, I would not have changed anything in my experience. Berkeley made me who I am. Berkeley allowed me to excel. Berkeley challenged me to find who I am. In exchange for that privilege, I had to leave my family. But you know what? I learned to forge a mature and loving relationship with them. I appreciated them more after knowing what they sacrificed for me. Leaving made me find my love for my family.
I look at you and I know that UCLA will bring out the best in you. That is of course if you desire UCLA enough.
First off, congratulations on getting admitted to a University of California campus. Only the top 10% of high school graduates earn that distinction. The way in which the state of California designed the state schools, those who have a higher chance of continuing to advanced degrees like a master degree or a doctorate in philosophy generally attend the UC campuses.
However, you really wanted to get into UCLA and not UC Davis. What to do? What to do? I already have spoken to you about this before. The students who usually get into Berkeley or UCLA are those who want that school so badly that they will do anything to get into the school. That means special projects, going the extra mile in extra-curricular activities, and playing sports. And yes, appealing a rejection letter to UCLA is part of that taste in your mouth.
If your pride does not allow you to write an appeal and plan a course of action to show just how much you want UCLA, then the school might just be right in rejecting your application. Every applicant is smart, has the extra-curricular activities and is distinguished. The only difference among students is what resides in their heart.
"But what about family? What about my sister? What about my parents?" you ask. As with anything else, this decision must be based on what you yourself want not only at this time point in your life, but also in the future, say twenty years from now. What is your gut instinct telling you to do? Do you belong in UCLA or in Davis? Are you going to be happy staying at home? Are you going to be happy in Davis? Or, do you know that you belong to UCLA?
The exceptional students do not let anything hamper them from attaining their desires. This is just another challenge thrown your way. I personally scoff when people say that their family can not afford college. This is America. If you want it bad enough you will find a way. It's time to grow up.
Ten or twenty years from now, your parents will be in the grave. Your siblings will be married with their families. Where will you be? Will you be regretting your choice in school? The ones who do well in life are the ones who sought and chased after their dreams. In life, achievable dreams come so rarely. Choosing your college is one of them. Do not just think about the now. Think about yourself in the future.
Why do I personally care about your situation? Because I have seen talented Filipinos SETTLE for less than what they are worth because of FEAR. If I stand by and let talented people settle, pretty soon, the Filipino community will be full of people who settled. Life is not about settling. Life is about living.
Twenty years ago, my father was dying of leukemia. I had to choose a college. I was already accepted into UCLA. But, Berkeley came calling to me. Berkeley offered scholarships. Going to Berkeley would mean leaving my mother and family. I would have to be alone. In my gut, I knew I had to go to Berkeley. Seeing Berkeley for the first time made me wince, because it was not as pretty as UCLA. In the end though, I would not have changed anything in my experience. Berkeley made me who I am. Berkeley allowed me to excel. Berkeley challenged me to find who I am. In exchange for that privilege, I had to leave my family. But you know what? I learned to forge a mature and loving relationship with them. I appreciated them more after knowing what they sacrificed for me. Leaving made me find my love for my family.
I look at you and I know that UCLA will bring out the best in you. That is of course if you desire UCLA enough.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
Reality or What Passes for It
rundmb discusses how reality can be revisited and replayed in one's mind. I used to do that a lot. I was never truly happy about how the world was fashioned in its imperfect state. I used to daydream about making it better. The trouble I ran into was that I was beginning to spend more and more time in the dream state than in the reality state of mind. Looking back now, this is probably how people go mad. Little by litttle, they switch from reality into dreamscape.
With the advances in neurobiology, I can now just attribute the escape from reality into some overactive lobe of the brain. If scientists can determine that people in love have overactive regions of the brain, then other behavioral patterns must also have the same basis in the brain. But I suppose what people say about genius and madness being separated by a thin line is true.
rundmb discusses how reality can be revisited and replayed in one's mind. I used to do that a lot. I was never truly happy about how the world was fashioned in its imperfect state. I used to daydream about making it better. The trouble I ran into was that I was beginning to spend more and more time in the dream state than in the reality state of mind. Looking back now, this is probably how people go mad. Little by litttle, they switch from reality into dreamscape.
With the advances in neurobiology, I can now just attribute the escape from reality into some overactive lobe of the brain. If scientists can determine that people in love have overactive regions of the brain, then other behavioral patterns must also have the same basis in the brain. But I suppose what people say about genius and madness being separated by a thin line is true.
Friday, April 02, 2004
Do you want to see the future?
The beauty of life is truth. To get a glimpse of truth, go to rundmb the Pinoy Blog of the Day for the 2nd of April 2004. Watch as college, high school and family life come under the spotlight. Truth in all its beauty comes out.
The beauty of life is truth. To get a glimpse of truth, go to rundmb the Pinoy Blog of the Day for the 2nd of April 2004. Watch as college, high school and family life come under the spotlight. Truth in all its beauty comes out.
The Impermanence of Things
On Monday, I become a permanent employee. I have a great boss and the group is making a product that is sold in the business. I am jazzed, excited, happy and grateful. Three months of uncertainty in the unemployment line sucking at the teat of the American government that I love and critique is enough to make me worry about my future.
Three years ago, give or take a few months, I started another job. I wondered then how long I would last in the company. But two years of a post-doc and pretty much anything that pays money makes you grateful. Twelve years ago, I began graduate school the same night that tanks rolled into Moscow. I saw five years of graduate school extend into nearly seven years. But I was gratefull because graduate school let me try my hand at being an adult with my family ready to support me in case I failed. Graduate school allowed me to be inquisitive about the world and not have to worry about where I was going to get my food or shelter.
I learned many lessons in these past few years. Perhaps the most important lesson is to take care of myself. To ask myself why I do the things I do. Why worry about things that I have no control over? To enjoy every single day because each day is a gift that will never come back. All this I shared and learned from the SO.
On Monday, I become a permanent employee. I have a great boss and the group is making a product that is sold in the business. I am jazzed, excited, happy and grateful. Three months of uncertainty in the unemployment line sucking at the teat of the American government that I love and critique is enough to make me worry about my future.
Three years ago, give or take a few months, I started another job. I wondered then how long I would last in the company. But two years of a post-doc and pretty much anything that pays money makes you grateful. Twelve years ago, I began graduate school the same night that tanks rolled into Moscow. I saw five years of graduate school extend into nearly seven years. But I was gratefull because graduate school let me try my hand at being an adult with my family ready to support me in case I failed. Graduate school allowed me to be inquisitive about the world and not have to worry about where I was going to get my food or shelter.
I learned many lessons in these past few years. Perhaps the most important lesson is to take care of myself. To ask myself why I do the things I do. Why worry about things that I have no control over? To enjoy every single day because each day is a gift that will never come back. All this I shared and learned from the SO.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Man's Inhumanity
The April 1st San Francisco Chronicle's headline says "Horror at Faluja." Four American contractors were killed by Iraqi gunmen; the bodies were burned, defiled, and strung up on a bridge. The American newscasts have been repeating the newscycle since last night.
This episode makes me wonder at the gift of America for self-delusion. What did we as a nation and a people expect from a war? Did we as a nation think that just because America says that the war is over that the resistance will cease? The very presence of Americans in Iraq will continue to prod the Iraqis into resistance whether or not the Iraqis sympathized with Saddam Hussein or not.
Another aspect that this horror brings up is how America gives more value to American lives than to an Iraqi life. Three thousand people die at the World Trade Center; America goes to war. Less than 10,000 American soldiers have died in Iraq. Compare that number to the amount of Iraqis killed. It is with great admiration that I look upon the ability of America and Amerians to be horrified at the defilement of burned bodies and at the same time rationalize away the fact that a missile killing Iraqi civilians is also a very horrible event.
The Americans killed were contract workers who provided security. To me, this means that the men killed were knowledgeable soldiers. They were capitalists working in Iraq to make money. They knew that there was a war. They knew the risk. I will not be horrified at the way their bodies were treated. I will however rejoice at the fact that here in America, you can legally make money from a war by becoming a contract security guard.
If I was working in Iraq as a contract security guard, I would be riding a tank.
By the way, infraternammeam asked me if I would let the soldiers die in Iraq. Yes, I would because we are already in the damned country and participating in the war. To pull out prematurely is to repeat the mistake that Bush the First made in the first gulf war. I don't want a third gulf war to happen. Let's finish what we started. Get Iraq a democratic government. It is only the politics of Bush trying to get re-elected that we are even thinking of pulling out. Bush is a wimp. He never served in Vietnam.
The April 1st San Francisco Chronicle's headline says "Horror at Faluja." Four American contractors were killed by Iraqi gunmen; the bodies were burned, defiled, and strung up on a bridge. The American newscasts have been repeating the newscycle since last night.
This episode makes me wonder at the gift of America for self-delusion. What did we as a nation and a people expect from a war? Did we as a nation think that just because America says that the war is over that the resistance will cease? The very presence of Americans in Iraq will continue to prod the Iraqis into resistance whether or not the Iraqis sympathized with Saddam Hussein or not.
Another aspect that this horror brings up is how America gives more value to American lives than to an Iraqi life. Three thousand people die at the World Trade Center; America goes to war. Less than 10,000 American soldiers have died in Iraq. Compare that number to the amount of Iraqis killed. It is with great admiration that I look upon the ability of America and Amerians to be horrified at the defilement of burned bodies and at the same time rationalize away the fact that a missile killing Iraqi civilians is also a very horrible event.
The Americans killed were contract workers who provided security. To me, this means that the men killed were knowledgeable soldiers. They were capitalists working in Iraq to make money. They knew that there was a war. They knew the risk. I will not be horrified at the way their bodies were treated. I will however rejoice at the fact that here in America, you can legally make money from a war by becoming a contract security guard.
If I was working in Iraq as a contract security guard, I would be riding a tank.
By the way, infraternammeam asked me if I would let the soldiers die in Iraq. Yes, I would because we are already in the damned country and participating in the war. To pull out prematurely is to repeat the mistake that Bush the First made in the first gulf war. I don't want a third gulf war to happen. Let's finish what we started. Get Iraq a democratic government. It is only the politics of Bush trying to get re-elected that we are even thinking of pulling out. Bush is a wimp. He never served in Vietnam.
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