the great affair is to move

2008-05-21T01:42:00.000-07:00

early early this morning (1.30 am) i woke up, my face itching like crazy. i stumbled to the bathroom. six mosquito bites, three on each cheek. and one on my right earlobe, for good luck. i returned to bed, taking my electric mosquito bat with me. i turned on the light and sat for a good ten minutes, blearily on the lookout for the little shits. after killing two, i was satisfied and returned to bed.

i am impressed, but not amused. revenge is sweet.

piling on the layers.

2008-05-07T21:27:00.000-07:00

it's hot here. i'm not talking about a normal summer heat. no, i'm talking 105 degrees, all of which are in your face and oppressive. the kind of air that makes your skin radiate heat until there's a hot shadow following your every move.

so it's really no surprise that the other day i noticed a heat rash on my arm. my skin is as sensitive as they come, and is understandably enraged about the current conditions. my coworkers, noticing this rash, recommended i apply a certain powder all over, to soothe my skin and prevent further (and worse) irritation.

but here's the rub. in addition to my newly purchased powder, which i dust on every morning, i also apply sunscreen. spf 70 to be exact, which i slather on liberally, leaving a white film all over my arms and neck. i wait a little bit and then douse myself again, this time with mosquito repellent. the 3m kind that the army uses. because mosquitoes love my sweet blood.

throughout the day, due mostly to my consistent sweating, these layers start to shed. i leave gooky bits of powdered-lotion-repellent all over my desk and on my chair. the office dogs sniff these little blobs and wrinkle up their noses in disgust. it isn't so pleasant. luckily, i can see a little light. a time when i don't have to pile on all these layers, when i don't have to deal with all these bits of gook. for right now though, it's what i have to do, to keep my safety and sanity intact. for right now, i'm layering away.

a little love...

2008-04-28T00:31:00.000-07:00

Pratima’s house is on the other side of Baroda, in an area I have never explored. Not quite the slums, her neighborhood is small and crowded with teeny brick houses. Each building overflows with people, home to extended families of ten or more. After entering the narrow alleyway teeming with kids and cows, I enter the first room of Pratima’s two-room home. This is the living/bed/play room. Six children under the age of eight line one wall, all with metal plates in front of them. They scoop up rice and homemade samosa dripping with tamarind chutney, and shovel the food unpretentiously into their mouths.

Pratima’s mom sits on the floor next to the line of children. Her English is limited to simple words - hello, sit, eat. And I quickly exhaust my Gujarati vocabulary. But her eyes, twinkling and lined with smile wrinkles, help make me feel at home. Pratima’s elder brother, sitting on the bed with his father, is eager to describe the NGO where he works and how he teaches physically handicapped individuals. His best friend (who works with him at the NGO) is also in the room, eager to meet me. Through translation I learn that the crutches the friend uses are for a leg deformity he was born with and the polio he lived through when he was very young. His authentic, multi-watt smile as he talks about all of this blows me away.

Pratima’s sister and sister-in-law are in the second room, the kitchen. They are waiting for me, armed with bowls of food and sweet, shy smiles. My plate is soon overwhelmed by heaps of rice and potato curry, homemade pakora and samosa, pools of sour lemon pickle and sweet tamarind chutney. I eat and smile, talking a little with Pratima, feeling a smidge self-conscious. I feel my white skin glowing and the sweat dripping off my neck. I scoop up the rice to my mouth with as much grace as I can muster. Not much. And yet when I look up, everyone beams back at me, their looks warm and welcoming and genuinely kind.

After dinner, I ask Pratima if it would be okay to go to the empty lot next door and say hi to the cow puppy that I saw on my way in. She says of course and tells her family that I am an animal lover – "a real one," she says to them, and to me. I can’t help but agree. The whole family piles outside and watches as I plop down next to the furry, one-month old animal. The crowd grows quickly. I look up at Pratima with the beginnings of annoyance and concern about everyone watching. "No no," she says to me, "Don’t worry. The way you like the cow, these people like you." I take in the crowd again. People are smiling, with friendly and curious looks on their faces. I smile, understand a little bit better, and go back to cooing over the cow.

not even may...

2008-04-15T08:10:00.000-07:00

This is my weather forecast for the next two days:

Wednesday: Sunny. Extremely hot. High: 105 °F
Thursday: Sunny. Extremely hot. High: 108 °F

2008-03-28T07:44:00.000-07:00

“Being a woman is a terribly difficult task, since it consists principally in dealing with men.”

amen joseph conrad. at this point, i am less than impressed with the majority of men. and by majority i mean all, save perhaps a handful - i'm being generous - which includes my father and mr. darcy (bbc version.) as the latter is a fictional character, the current situation leaves much to be desired.

i'm looking into the remaining matriarchal communities. there's one in southeast china that's looking prettty prettty nice right about now.

discomfort part II

2008-03-26T02:30:00.000-07:00

i learned today from one of my bosses that the neighborhood's president, upon hearing what happened to me yesterday, called her. he told my boss that he thought the best thing would be if i vacated the house immediately. while the incident itself played a part in the situation, what was really discussed were complaints by my neighbors regarding three things. since i can't go at my neighbors, however sorely i'm tempted, let me vent a bit here.

1. the dogs. i love dogs, it's true. one thing that makes me tremendously unhappy here is the condition of dogs in this country. therefore, i feed them crackers and anything else i can scrounge up. contrary to what seems to be popular belief, i did not bring the dogs to india with me. when i arrived in this country, in this state, in my particular neighborhood, there were numerous street dogs wandering around. while i recognize that many people do not like the dogs around, at this point i see two valid options. one is to shoot the dogs (or poison them, like a program implemented in srinigar.) another is to take better care of them (feed them, spay/neuter them, maybe even go crazy and throw in a sprinkling of medicine ) as i am, for all intents and purposes, a pacifist, and perhaps more relevant in these circumstances, a dog lover, i opt for the second choice. i stand by my actions, apologize if it offends people, and can only suggest that increasing one's respect and consideration for other living creatures will only bring happiness.

2. the water tap. in the beginning, i didn't understand the water tap. this i fully admit. but by and by i got the hang of it. on in the evening, off when i get up in the morning. this way, the water tank on the roof is full for the day and i have water to wash dishes, clean my clothes, and take cold showers. but here's the thing. even when i turn the tap off, water still comes out of the drain. even when - because i think that maybe the water tank already has plenty of water - i don't turn the tap on at night, water is still spewing out come morning. and so, i apologize to my neighbors for the overflow of water. i personally don't feel this warrants a complaint to the neighborhood's president, but i guess my priorities are a bit different from those of my neighbors.

3. having guests over. yep. i've had some male friends over. i've also had my sister stay over. and i've had my parents who were visiting. if that's offensive to the point of complaining, i guess i have to just say shove it. the fact that i can have males in my house without them inappropriately touching me should empower me, not offend others. but i guess it does.

and so, once again:
shove it.

and p.s. i'm a young woman, from a completely different country, trying to get by and do some good work at the same time. throw me a frickin bone here people. give me a break.

dealing with discomfort

2008-03-25T03:52:00.000-07:00

i was recently in a situation where i was extremely uncomfortable. to make a long story short, i was talking with a man (or trying to, as he was speaking gujarati and i was speaking english,) and he touched me inappropriately. very inappropriately. after i shouted NO, i slammed the door in his face.

i felt angry and frustrated and embarrassed and hurt. i shared the story with pratima, my friend and coworker. she asked a couple of questions in her broken english to make sure she understood what happened. and then "chelo." let's go. pratima, sunita (another coworker,) and i walked down the street to find the man or to find my neighborhood's president to whom we would report the incident.

we didn't have far to go before we spotted the man. he sweeps my streets and we have always exchanged friendly hellos and kem-chos (how are you in gujarati.) this time wasn't so friendly. before i knew it, pratima was on him, all her 80 pounds, kicking him, hitting him, ripping his shirt. a friend of hers, a young guy who helps the office with their wiring, was nearby and, upon hearing what had happened, jumped in, delivering a couple of serious slaps to the guy's face.

i didn't know quite what to make of this. i have watched people stone someone before - the man was a driver who had caused a crash and killed people. an unbelievably horrible thing to watch, much more so than what happened this morning. and yet this morning was also painfully complex for me. i know that this is inappropriate behavior. these small things enrage me just as much as blatant disregard for treating women with respect. i should be made to feel uncomfortable because i'm a woman? no part of that is okay. and there is still another part of me that feels badly. i feel bad that this guy, someone who obviously doesn't have much, now has one less shirt to wear. i feel bad that he was publicly humiliated (even as i know what he did was wrong, that he wasn't actually hurt, and there weren't that many people around.)

but perhaps what really gets to me is something far more simple. i now question someone whom i once thought was kind and genuine. and that, quite simply, makes me very very sad.

all the help i can get

2008-02-19T21:46:00.000-08:00

it has been rather rough going here recently. and by recently i suppose i mean the last seven months. which, not coincidentally, is the amount of time i’ve been in india. but really recently - the last two weeks or so, have been particularly tough.

my parents, who were here visiting for three weeks (see 'mom and dad...' pictures on the left,) returned home in the beginning of february. having their company: their insights, their humor, their all-around good nature and openness – was such a balm on my wounds of frustration and anger.

frustrations at why things take eight times longer here than in the united states. and then when things finally do get done, they often don’t work. frustrations at the lack of communication that occurs on a daily basis, that pulls me in and makes me fume. anger at how some people treat others here, whether the others are fellow humans or overlooked animals. i get angry and feel physically ill simultaneously. not a good feeling. anger at the immense disparity between those who have wayyy too much and those who barely have anything. anger at what seems to me to be either ignorance or indifference toward that disparity. apathy is immensely unattractive.

having my parents here was an ointment of sorts to all of that. partly reassuring, partly distracting, i felt i could breathe a bit more easily with them close at hand. but, as luck would have it, they have their own jobs, their own frustrations, their own lives that need their attention.

and, as i probably could have predicted, soon after they left i began to feel a bit anxious again. a bit unsettled, a bit panicky. my mind is too often my biggest rival, chattering away when what i could really use is a moment or two of peace and quiet. with grad school looming a little too closely ahead of me, with choices that are a bit too grown-up for my liking taking shape, i’m trying to both look at (and address) some of my issues more closely and be a smidge nicer to myself. which seems almost contradictory. but i’m trying.

a good part of that comes from turning to those who optimistically inspire, wisely instruct, or genuinely soothe me. or, if i’m really lucky, a combination of all three. one of these rare finds is the impressively insightful anne lamott. who is the best kind of crazy christian nut i could possibly imagine.

in one of her stories, at a moment of crisis and despair, frustration at others and self-hatred, she writes: “i have to believe that jesus prefers honesty to anything else. i was saying, ‘here’s who i am,’ and that is where most improvement begins.”

so, with the exception of the jesus detail, that’s what i’m going with for the moment. it’s not much. and it sure doesn’t answer all my questions or make my choices seem easier or any more fun. or convince my mind to take it easy. but it does help to smooth out the rough spots just a teeny bit. and i have to start somewhere.

Late Fragment, Raymond Carver

2008-01-10T23:37:00.000-08:00

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

musings on my office life, part I

2008-01-06T21:12:00.000-08:00

in a land where coffee (for better or worse,) relinquishes its title to chai, the variations of this sweet, creamy, spice-infused tea are endless and, more often than not, delightful. subtleties that exist between different chai wallas in my town become more pronounced from state to state. spicier chai predominates in the south, where bold kicks of cardamom match jolts of cinnamon which in turn draw out the layered flavors of nutmeg. as one travels further north, the sweeter the chai. heaping spoonfuls of sugar tame the spices. still full of flavor, this version is more soothing (at least to those with my level of sweet tooth.) i’m ready to drink this remarkably versatile variety throughout the day - before breakfast, during midday breaks, even as dessert. or to be completely honest, with dessert. regardless of one’s geographical location, regardless of the sugar to spice ratio, good chai is one thing that seems to be a constant throughout india.

except in my office. the poor quality of chai in my office is impressive in its own right. it doesn’t always taste the same – the amount of sugar and spices vary. it is just unfailingly bad. the chai ranges from tasting like bland, sweet breakfast tea on the best of days to lukewarm, watered-down skim milk on the verge of going rancid. there is no designated chai maker at my office. and truthfully, even if there were one, i’m not sure whom i would pick.

veersing, our driver/handyman, makes the chai, if he shows up to work (he was absent 13 days last month,) and if he feels like it. when he does, about half the time it turns out as bland, sweet, breakfast tea. the rest of the time it hovers around the middle of the scale. when minaxi (who doesn’t believe that sugar belongs in chai,) goes to task, it almost always errs toward a lackluster, watered-down, skim milk taste. when she makes chai, i immediately think to myself that i would rather just have boiling water, which might at least be somewhat beneficial for my health. but of course i can’t say that, and so instead i reach for the sugar to add a couple of healthy teaspoons, much to minaxi’s bemusement. and then there’s pratima, a close friend of mine at the office. pratima likes to add tulsi, a local herb which i’ve recently discovered is a very strong type of basil, that she insists is good for stress and a blood purifier. she is quite resourceful, a quality i generally admire. but not, I’ve realized, when it comes to chai. pratima looks around, finding and adding whatever spice she can get her hands on. so, when a visitor brought some home-grown ginger to the office recently, pratima was delighted. grating the ginger zealously, she added what looked to be half a cupful. this, along with the tulsi, was a powerful enough combination to turn the milk rancid, if not in actuality, then at least in taste.

i’m not comfortable enough here yet to point out the deficiencies of the office chai. i’m not sure i’ll ever be. instead, i accept the chai that is brought to me daily at 11 and again at 4 with a meek smile and a reach for the sugar (or splenda, if i feel like treating myself.) and i make it a point to sample the wonderfully delectable varieties from the numerous chai stands on the street corners whenever i’m out and about.

my sister came to visit

2008-01-04T03:35:00.001-08:00

my sister laura came to visit a couple of weeks ago. she stayed for two weeks, and while it was very stressful for me, it was also wonderful.

i've been thinking about how to write about her visit, how to do justice to this relation of mine who is overwhelmingly complicated, confusing, and frustrating. and, at the same time, comfortably familiar, hysterically funny, and has proven to be an excellent companion when things get rough.

i'm still not sure how. but i was gently reminded by my sister that something should be posted.

a (complete) email i received from her this morning:

_________________________________________________________

Oppenheim, Laura to me

show details 12:18 PM (4 hours ago)

or, at least, update your blog with a mention of me in it (ie. . my sister came to visit. .. )

_________________________________________________________

so, in lieu of a thorough note, or perhaps just while i collect my thoughts some more, please see the pictures i have posted (to the left, under 'lovely laura's look around') from her visit.

the more i see of men, the more i prefer dogs...

2007-12-06T22:57:00.000-08:00

there are four dogs who consider the office their personal quarters, at least during the daytime. boloh and cheetah, a brother-sister pair, are both five years old and sweetly adult: calm, food oriented, loving and loyal. chicu and tanka (see right) are another brother-sister pair, and a recent addition to the brood. five months old, they vacillate between being total terrors and delightfully delicious.

despite the frequent piles of poop the puppies leave around the office, the proclivity of one of them to chew on my computer’s power cord, the tendency of the other to chew on my favorite pair of flip flops, and the penchant of all four to engage in impressive wrestling matches throughout the day, i am more than thrilled with this doggy set-up. in india, the ratio of seeing someone kick a dog to seeing someone walking one on a leash is about 500:1, if that. i find it fortuitous that i am in india again, working on women’s rights issues, at an ngo whose staff not only has a fondness for animals, but actually welcomes a few lucky street dogs into the office. my heart warms simply by being here. i feel tremendously lucky.

the other night, just before i left to walk home, i sat down on a chair in the main room of the office. cheetah, a tan and white mutt, whose odd looks are overpowered by her sweet disposition, was curled up in the chair next to mine. as soon as i plopped exhaustedly down onto the woven chair, she nudged herself over, resituating to expose her furry belly to me, knowing full well that i would happily comply. cooing softly, i rubbed in circles, then up and down, then left to right.

well aware that these dogs get into plenty of mischief and roll around in plenty of shit during their daily jaunts outside the office, i examined the downy hair on her belly as i massaged. spotting the expected enemy, i sighed and pointed it out to my friend and coworker pratima. another tick, i exclaimed, getting up to get some old newspaper to serve as a glove. it was swollen, and attached, and i predicted some bloodshed as i severed its head from its ugly, gross, bulbous body.

gripping the tick firmly between my newspaper-covered fingers, i pulled, gently but firmly. unsuccessful, i repositioned the newspapers, and my angle of approach, and tried again. still no luck. i audibly sighed again as pratima babbled to me incoherently in gujarati. exasperated, i thought to myself that people here really just do NOT know how to take care of dogs.

pratima interrupted my thoughts with a sharp “look!” and a hand pointing to the tick. i did. i looked at the tick and prodded a bit. i looked closer, and realized my error. the tick was not a tick. it was cheetah’s nipple. a little off-center and a little bit larger than the rest, and a little odd looking perhaps, but without a doubt, a nipple. i started laughing at first, joining my coworkers who had already realized my blunder, then quickly felt awful. i worried i had lost cheetah’s trust and affection forever, her warm welcome in the morning, her generous licks throughout the day, and perhaps most importantly, her invitations to rub her belly.

but i needn’t have worried. no sooner had i apologetically dug my face into her belly than she energetically licked my forehead, sniffling and snuffling my hair as she did so. i spent a couple more minutes with her, praising all of her wonderful attributes and letting her know what a goddess i think she is, smelling her wonderfully aromatic paws and kissing the top of her nose. and then i set out for home, comfortable and confident that i was in her good graces once again.

public transport

2007-10-04T05:09:00.000-07:00

so far during my time here in india, i have ridden the public, intercity bus five times. i love riding this bus. i have thought about why i love this mode of transportation so much, this clumsy hulk of steel that commands control of the road with its staggering size and thunderous horn. the heat that hits you in full force while waiting for every last passenger to climb onboard is unbearable. and while it's not erased, it's almost forgotten as the bus laggardly pulls away from the station. the slow breeze from the open windows works its magic, soothing your overheated face, quieting your overcrowded mind.

long distant landscape relatives greet one another, sometimes abruptly, sometimes with grace. city congestion mingles with neighboring slums before giving way to outskirts, clumps of buildings and people and homes. and finally, open land. it is here where i breathe deeply. lush, verdant land stretches on for miles. speckled with farmers and animals, sprinkled with brightly colored flowers, this is what i prefer to consume. i take in the air, the fields blurring by, the children tending to water buffalo, the camels relaxing in the shade. i take it all in as i pass and i feel content doing so.

i make a list in my head, as i tend to do with things i love, of animals i see on these bus rides.

my most recent list from my trip back from ahmedabad:

cows - with impressively massive and uniquely shaped horns
water buffalo - adults and babies, two of whom were bathing in a murky marsh
herons - serenely wading in shallow water
donkeys - waiting for their backs to be burdened with goods
camels - at least 10, some resting under trees, others hard at work
elephant - (1) lugging a tremendous amount of material
monkeys - neither langours nor macaques, these guys were somersaulting on pipes and jumping from roof to roof

see my ahmedabad animals link on the left for pictures from the trip...

preston's cousins

2007-09-26T03:19:00.000-07:00

a couple of nights ago i decide to meander around my neighborhood to try and get my bearings. just dusk, the houses are ever-so-slightly shrouded in a thin haze. as i walk down the block and feel the beginning of raindrops, i notice a movement out of the corner of my eye.

my hearing may be waning, but my eyes are eagle-sharp. i take a couple of steps and realize what it is. a frog! a beautiful frog: olive color, mottled with asparagus spots, this frog is healthy. after watching it hop away i proceed on my self-guided tour, my interest piqued, my eyesight honed.

i don't have to wait long. after three steps the street is teeming with activity. frogs, of every size, ranging all the way from my pinky nail (as most of you know, i bite my nails with ferocity. i'm talking teensy tiny frogs here,) to fuji apples. hopping all over the place. i wonder if someone has just forgotten to tell me about the festivities. i can't remember the last time i've seen this many happy frogs in one place.

so, as i am often wont to do in situations like this, i inch along, hobbling over with my eyes peeled, eager for a closer look. so impressive - the sheen of their supple skin. their perfectly adapted legs - ready to conquer land and water alike. their endearingly bulgy eyes (reminding me of both ruby and my dad, two characters whom i love more than just about anyone.) i crouch even further to the street, ready to inspect one frog with all the intensity i can muster.

my examination is interrupted even before it can begin when the nearby-restaurant owner - on whom i have a mild crush - appears out of nowhere beside me and asks what i'm doing "flat on the road."

the frogs, i tell him, i love looking at these frogs. i can't believe how many there are! he sends me a confused look so i point to the one i have just bent down to appreciate.

but. it's not actually a frog. no, what i took to be a frog is simply a rock. grayish green with a slightly dappled appearance, this rock is certainly pretty but it definitely doesn't hop and is definitely not a frog. i stand up straight, brushing off my knees, feeling a blush spread across my face. i point to the other frogs that are actually frogs to prove my point.

and, luckily for me, there are plenty still around.

neighbors

2007-09-23T03:48:00.000-07:00

the neighbor across the street from my office, gita, is extraordinarily warm and sweet. come sit, she beckons every time i pass, every time swaying with the patio swing on which she is constantly perched.

she has a dog. adam, a small white terrier, is well cared for and much loved - the kind of dog that requires a double take here in india. where the norm is scarily protruding ribs and doleful eyes.

dogs, especially those who are treated well, bring a certain democracy to the table, deftly disregarding country barriers and cultural differences. i am well aware of this fact. i complimented gita on her dog in hindi - your dog is beautiful, i told her, nodding to the stout, furry shape in the doorway.

oooooo, she crooned, eager to converse. you are beautiful. your eyes, so pretty, your skin.
i protested, returning my attention to adam; he's so good, so pretty (i know maybe five adjectives, my hindi is embarrassingly limited.) gita looked lovingly toward her pup and sent him a handful of air kisses before turning back to me. yes, she said. he is very beautiful, just like you. both are beautiful, you two like brother and sister.

which is somewhat of an odd compliment. this is actually not the first time that i've been called a dog to my face. but this time i walked away giggling and happy. happy to be considered relatives with the white terrier across the street. and happy to have his owner as a friend.

home sweet home...

2007-09-18T05:19:00.000-07:00

i am, for all intents and purposes, home. i have arrived in baroda, gujarat, safely although by way of a rather lengthy, circuitous route. five weeks of orientation and hindi study followed by two days of travel. a nauseating taxi ride down the himalayas to a seven-hour train from dehradun. a six-hour layover in delhi - enough time to gobble up a fattoush salad and stock up on some good snacks in preparation for the final leg; a thirteen-hour train ride from delhi to baroda. given that some fellows in the south have upwards of 50 hours on the train to reach their placements, i consider my trip an easy one.

i have set up temporary shop in the group's conference room, a large room with a small cot and a huge air conditioner. i have met the group's staff - all women except one sweet man, veersing, who met me at the train station. i stumbled off the train with my luggage in tow and found myself face-to-face with a man repeating my name aloud. his english is non-existent but his calm demeanor and the sweetness in his eyes (as well as the sweetness with which he fixes the dogs' meals, read below,) convey plenty.

a few other tidbits worth mentioning. for those worried about my physical wellbeing vis-a-vis good food (and by that i dare to imply a world beyond the stale arena of starches,) fear not. sugar & spice, a much beloved deli/grocer that is located in the lovely khan market in delhi, is also here in baroda. it is here, right here, JUST across the street from my work.

for dinner last night, much to my delight, i went to a south indian restaurant with indira and maya, the two wonderful women who founded the organization where i'm working. turns out the restaurant they chose was already at the top of my list of food spots to hit up; it is the guiness book of world records holder for the LONGEST DOSA ever made. over four feet long! needless to say, i ordered a dosa. it was scrumptious.

moving from physical to emotional health, promising news in this department as well. there are many animal lovers among the staff, indira being one of them. because of this, there are two dogs that regularly relax at the office (and receive two meals of bread, dal, and milk a day, lovingly prepared by veersing.) cheetah likes to sit on chairs and makes herself quite comfortable either on the woven chairs downstairs or on the bench on the 2nd floor patio outside. boloh (who has already figured me out and enjoys my treats and affections,) spent most of the afternoon yesterday spread out on the cool marble floor upstairs, a few feet away from my office door. i could see his paws twitching and hear his dreamland growls as i reviewed some work documents. there are few better ways to make me feel at home. it was a good first day.

today i've been trying, without much luck, to figure out how to wirelessly connect my macbook to the internet. if anyone has any ideas, please holler. otherwise i'll be back with more updates - and pictures - as soon as i sort this out.

phillies: 11 marlins: 1

2007-08-07T19:25:00.000-07:00

my dad and a few other docs went in on some phillies season tickets this year. which is amusing to me, since my dad's affinity for sports begins and ends with his rifle collection (with which he shoots paper targets in the basement and cans in the backyard, both to the dismay of my mother.)

but he and my mom have been going pretty regularly to watch the games, so last night i went with him to see what all the fuss was about.

1.) the seats are fantastic, seven rows from the field, right behind the dugout. the best part is, you can watch as the players come back - from having been struck out, from a home run, at the end of the inning. and you can actually make out their facial expressions. these expressions, as those of you who go to baseball games often or are familiar with the players already know, are priceless.

2.) quite possibly my favorite part of the game was looking at the humongous electronic scoreboard. not for the score of course, that wouldn't be that exciting - especially for phillies fans, but for the camera. the camera that catches everyone when they aren't ready to be caught on film. and when they finally do realize they're on the big screen, they can't quite figure out which way to look so you can see their full face. my personal favorite last night was the "flex cam." a giant illustration of a muscle was posted on half of the scoreboard and the camera proceeded to pan around the stadium, looking for people to flex their guns. fantastic. the camera showed us 5 or 6 hefty guys showing off their masculinity, and then zoomed in on a couple of 16 year old boys, eager to prove they were men too, and finally caught a brother and a sister, blissfully unaware of the camera, digging into their ice creams. now they had the right idea. equal parts candid camera and 15 seconds of fame, this was entertainment.

3.) another moment in contention for my personal favorite: just after the 4th inning, the camera focused on a couple and, across the gigantic scoreboard, equally gigantic words: JASON IS PROPOSING TO ERIN!!! but erin was a bit oblivious, and as jason kneeled down, his girlfriend questioningly looked around to figure out what was going on. she said yes though, and the camera stayed with them as they hugged for a good 2 minutes, after which Jason triumphantly shot his hands up in the air, puffed up his chest, and - what do you know - flexed his muscles for all to see (via the scoreboard of course.)

the devil came on horseback

2007-07-28T20:34:00.000-07:00

last night, on the recommendation of a fellow india adventurer, i went to see the documentary "the devil came on horseback." a well made film, the documentary provides an inside look at the crisis in darfur through the eyes of former marine brian steidle. the filmmakers (both women are dartmouth grads) guide us through steidle's background to help us understand why he volunteered for the african union in sudan, his work to document the cease-fire that was declared in April of 2003, and his return home after his disgust with the lack of assistance to the communities in and surrounding darfur.

steidle skillfully explains the situation in sudan and darfur in simple terms; the politics and dynamics that exist there. the arab population in the north and the christians in the south. the sudanese government and its relationship to the janjaweed militia. why china is a key player. how rape is used as a tool of war. his tragic photos and heartbreaking stories help document what has been going on in this region for the past three years.

only after many months have g.w and his people decided to label what is going on in darfur genocide.

what matters now is that both the united states and the united nations are fully aware of these atrocities. what matters is that after armenia, after the holocaust and after rwanda, after cambodia and after the balkans, we have another genocide occurring, right now. americans across the nation, both in d.c. and beyond, are turning a blind eye.

this makes me ashamed to be an american.

please. go to www.savedarfur.org - learn about the film and learn about what is happening.

setting off...to nj

2007-07-25T19:09:00.000-07:00

i just returned home to new jersey and am in a state of minor shock. how quickly two years have passed! how much has happened! tumultuous jobs, wonderful relationships, and the death of my closest friend. i feel a bit older, a bit wiser, and yet very much like i am still a fraud in the grown-up world. which i guess is fine by me.

i am happy to be back in moorestown, running errands and enjoying the company of the two best dogs alive. tobias, our golden retriever, is simply a wonder. his diet today -in addition to the boring bland dog chow - included the following: an unripe apple from a tree in our garden, fresh basil from the same location, his own shit along with the shit of a fellow pooch, and a tasty bit of runover squirrel from the street (aka squirrel jerky.) really now, he is one classy gourmand. he is currently passed out on our red velvet sofa in what i can only imagine to be a blissful state of pure gluttony.

the here and now in san francisco

2007-07-16T07:39:00.000-07:00

things i'll miss about san francisco, in no particular order:

-vegetarian food: www.anandafuara.com,
-beautiful houses & fun californian design: sfgirlbybay.blogspot.com
-sea lions at fisherman's wharf: http://www.sftravel.com/sealionsfishermanswharf.html
-dog parks & all the dogs: http://www.fetchthepaper.com/
-the balmy weather
-my fantastic baby apartment

things i won't miss about san francisco:
-hills
-all the hipsters
-ridiculously high rent