Why Burnt Cream?

The title for this blog stems from an experience some years ago, when a friend asked a rather intriguing question: If you had to choose a food that best describes your character, what would it be?

I thought quite hard on this one and what I came up with was crème brûlée. Since then, I have asked a number of others the very same question, and I've found it to be telling. I've never questioned my admission to being a custard, because what I said then remains true today. My explanation, as best as I can remember...

Crème Brûlée is not for everyone, and for many who enjoy it, it's an acquired taste. It's not the prettiest looking thing - crispy and burnt, far from grand. The custard is protected by a rough exterior, though it's easily broken by a well-intentioned tap or two. The inside: Rich, creamy goodness. Complexity of flavor. Warmth. Perhaps, a touch of spice. Sweet, but not too much so. It's taste and texture varies over time and space.

So, yeah, that's me in a ramekin.

The ONE Campaign

I don't know about you, but I think Americans have an obligation to lend a hand, to pick up the little guy when he's down. But, not the sort of help that entails war or variations on imperialism. Real help. Solidarity. Commitment.

The ONE campaign was launched in 2002 and is gaining serious momentum. (Maybe you've already heard of it - I hope so.) The campaign is backed by a host of not-for-profit organizations and various religious and relief organizations, as well as politically active public figures. It calls for the allocation of a mere ONE percent of the budget of the United States to various entities within Africa for the fighting of the HIV/AIDS pandemic and widespread poverty.

Below is a link that details some of the issues that hundreds of millions of Africans face and what the ONE campaign hopes to achieve. If you think this seems like something worth fighting for, you may choose to electronically sign The Declaration. It requires nothing further from you, but will help to send a message to our lawmakers and the powers-that-be.

http://action.one.org/Issues.html

Thanks for reading.

5000 Things to Do Before We Die

Do you ever feel like there are so many problems to tackle, and can't find a way to go about solving them? Or worse, that it's beyond hope and what's the point anyway?

We've got it all wrong, and I want to change things.

But I haven't a clue as to how to engage in something really meaningful. I'm talking about our environmental problems, combating global warming, developing a workable social security and nationalized healthcare of some sort, ending this insane war we're engaged in, making corporations develop environmentally sustainable practices, sending aid to the Developing World and ensuring that it makes it to the people and social entities that truly need it, legitimizing this so-called democracy we have in place. The list goes on.

You know, I often wonder how we - myself, my community, the countless generations that have preceded mine - let it come to this. How is it that we haven't been able to keep the engine of corporate capitalism and globalization in better check, through the writing of tight, implementable legislation? Why haven't we held our politicians to higher standards? Why haven't we fought for more diversified and uncensored media? Again the list goes on.

I don't see how this country that is always looking for bigger, better, more, could not have, at some point along the way, closely observed the operations of other nations and then pieced together a nation comprised of the best bits? That's obviously a very simplified suggestion, but the point is that we ought to be able to identify successes of other industrialized nations - think Sweden, France, etc. - and find a way to may them workable for us. Are 'we' really so proud and complacent that we can't admit that we haven't all the answers?

See, once I get thinking about all the ways in which we are going wrong, it's hard to break free. It becomes such a weight. And while I understand that I, as an individual, can do little if anything to change the course of history, I do know that social movements and uprisings of the sort that we very obviously need, require a start somewhere. With one person. And then another. And so it goes.

Where is the momentum we so desperately need? And how is it possible to prioritize such impossibly huge and all-encompassing issues? Is it more important to concentrate on education or environmental sustainability or equal pay for women in the workplace or fair treatment of gays or media conglomerates or economic development of Third World countries, or the genocide in Darfur? How can we say?

There are so many things requiring our attention its so easy to become paralyzed and do what we've long been doing: Nothing

A little light reading...and a side of hope.

A few days ago, I finished reading a book which chronicled the events of the Rwanda genocide of 1994, the months leading up to it, and of course, the aftermath. It was written by an Officer in the Canadian Army, Lt. Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the man who was Commander of the United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR). The General lived and worked in Rwanda for a year, and was one of the few voices warning the United States and the UN that something awful was brewing in that tiny central African country. He lived in the heart of the genocide and civil war, and though he witnessed the mass killings (it is approximated that 800,000 people were murdered and close to 2 million were displaced/became refugees), he and his troops were able to save thousands.

It was one of the most important books I've ever read, and one that I wish more people knew about. It's the sort of book that breaks your heart, makes your stomach turn, and is at the same time a testament to the will that some exercise on behalf of their fellow men and women.

What follows are excerpts from the conclusion:

At its heart, the Rwandan story is the story of the failure of humanity to heed a call for help from an endangered people. The international community, of which the UN is only a symbol, failed to move beyond self-interest for the sake of Rwanda. While most nations agreed that something should be done, they all had an excuse for why they should not be the ones to do it. As as result, the UN was denied the political will and material means to prevent the tragedy...We have fallen back on the yardstick of national self-interest to measure which portions of the planet we allow ourselves to be concerned about. In the twenty-first century, we cannot affort to tolerate single failed state, ruled by ruthless and self-serving dictators, arming and brainwashing a generation of potential warriors to export mayhem and terror around the world. Rwanda was a warning to us all of what lies in store if we continue to ignore human rights, human security, and abject poverty.

Several times in this book I have asked the question, "Are we all human, or are some more human than others?" Certainly we in the developed world act in a way that suggests we believe that our lives are worth more than the lives of other citizens on the planet. [When I requested American troops for the assistance mission in Rwanda] An American officer felt no shame as he informed me that the lives of 800,000 Rwandans were only worth risking the lives of ten American troops; the Belgians, after losing ten soldiers [on the first day of the genocide], insisted that the lives of Rwandans were not worth risking another single Belgian soldier. The only conclusion I can reach is that we are in desperate need of a transfusion of humanity. If we believe that all humans are human, then how are we going to prove it? It can only be proven through our actions. Through the dollars we are prepared to expend to improve conditions in the Third World, through the time and energy we devote to solving devastating problems like AIDS, through the lives of our soldiers, which we are prepared to sacrifice for the sake of humanity.

As soldiers we have been used to moving mountains to protect our own sovereignty or risks to our way of life. In the future we must be prepared to move beyond national self-interest to spend our resources and spill our blood for humanity. We have lived through centuries of enlightenment, reason, revolution, industrialization, and globalization. No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the Century of Humanity, when we as human beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe. For the sake of the children [who are now orphans in Rwanda] and of our future.

Peux ce que veux. Allons-y. [Translation: Where there's a will, there's a way. Let's go.]

------------------------------------

In the last few years I have come to feel that my "calling," so to speak, is to work in the humanitarian field, to help those whom often don't have the resources to help themselves, those generally overlooked by the rest of us - that is to say, the bulk of those in the Developing World. I want to do something of substance, something that requires personal sacrifice. And this is what I've come to feel is most worth my time, talents, and effort.

General Dallaire's is the sort of plan that I can get behind. I truly hope that enough people in this country will do their homework, become angered enough and can put their wishes in action, and that we can somehow force a re-evaluation of 'our' priorities. Then, we must act accordingly. It is unfortunate, but a good deal of the world will not act except in concert with, or at least with the approval of, the United States.

There's a world beyond our borders, with people just as lovely and worthwhile as ourselves. We need to work to legitimize their existence instead of imposing our will, or - in the worst of cases - ignoring them altogether.

I have to thank Gen. Dallaire for reminding me of that. And for renewing my conviction to continue on the path to Africa...and perhaps, beyond.

I think I'll write him a letter.

Allons-y.

p.s. Read this book: Shake Hands with The Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda by Lt. Gen. Roméo Dallaire

My phone can talk?

Last night I watched a documentary entitled The Lost Boys of Sudan. It followed two teenage boys enrolled in the U.S. Refugee Program, as they made their to the States for resettlement and continued education. It was thoroughly interested to witness the challenges they encountered in suburbia, and the difficult processes of assimilation.

At one point in the film, one of the boys rang home - something he hadn't done in quite some time - to be greeted by an angry sister. Upset because he ought to have been calling home at least once a month to brief the family on his progress and the whereabouts of expected remittances. After much arguing, the boy made a poignant remark, something to the effect of, "Here, there is no time to call. If you came to America, it would take you a year to call your husband. Then you would believe what I say." This boy obviously had a deeper understanding of our culture than many gave him credit for.

I found it especially relevant as I've been contemplating of late the increasing isolation that I feel from those that I care for, and with it, greater superficiality of correspondence. Especially in this country, we live such fast-paced lives, always on the go. Always chasing something...the sorts of somethings that require a sacrifice of community and real bonds. (No) thanks to technology, we've largely replaced face-to-face (or voice-to-voice) communication with the electronic. It's often easier, less time-consuming. But while we think we're making things easier on ourselves, we're really doing potentially long-term damage to ourselves and our relationships. I've noticed it in mine. And frankly, I don't like it.

I've long felt that all this technology we've grown so accustomed to has led to greater isolation and anomie; I know that I am not alone in this, that my perspective is far from novel. But it's now that I'm beginning to see an increase in its adverse affects a bit closer to home.

I remember when I was living in London and making some local friends there, one guy expressed surprise when I told him that I'd call him at such-and-such a time before we were to go out. He said that people (especially of the younger generations) in London rarely spoke on their phones anymore, they were simply used for text messaging. Though it was only two years ago, I remember thinking that that was ludicrous, annoying even. And here, I and others like me are making that unfortunate transition.

While I've always preferred being in another's presence to speaking with them on the phone, distance and other such impediments make it harder to do. Often that has meant that I just don't communicate with others as much or as often as I might like. So, I'm going to make a point of picking up the damn phone once in a while, and I'm going to try to see my friends more often. Even though I feel like I have no time most of the time. Because there's no replacement for geniune, human interaction.

Best of 2006

personal Best Of list...from all that I enjoyed in the previous year (in no particular order)

Best Books:

The Poisonwood Bible - Barbara Kingsolver
Mountains Beyond Mountains - Tracy Kidder
We Wish to Inform You that Tomorrow We Will Killed With Our Families: Stories from Rwanda - Philip Gourevitch
The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
Freakonomics - Stephen D. Levitt
Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
Snow - Orhan Pamuk
Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal - Christopher Moore

Best Films:

An Inconvenient Truth
I Am David
V for Vendetta
The Edukators
Thank You For Smoking
The Constant Gardener
Ghosts of Rwanda (PBS documentary)
Run Lola Run
City of God
Das Experiment
Inside Man

Best Food:

Black & White Salmon Ravioli - Pazzo Ristorante, PDX
Espresso-braised Beef Penne - Caffé Mingo, PDX
Baja Chicken Tacos - Oba!, PDX
Moroccan Chicken Soup with Vermicelli - homemade by yours truly
Mama Leone's Chicken Soup/Tomato Orange Soup (my custom blend) - Elephants, PDX
Pumpkin Apple Muffin - Java Mama's, Tigard OR
Freshwater eel nigiri and Las Vegas Roll - Sin Ju, Tualitan OR
Jasmine Rice with Coconut Milk and Mango - Tin Shed, PDX
Grilled Pork Chops - Shelby's Beach House, Cannon Beach OR
Sweet Potato Fries with Aioli - 820, PDX

Best Music Purchased (or pirated from friends!):

Lander - orange chrome sky
Amos Lee - Amos Lee
Imogen Heap - Speak for Yourself
The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stadium Arcadium
Nina Simone - Forever Young, Gifted, and Black
Nina Simone - The Essential Nina Simone
Bob Dylan - The Essential
Willie Nelson - The Classic Unreleased Collection
Coldplay - X&Y

Suicide.

Two days ago, my sister's friend committed suicide. And, while I didn't know him, I find myself reeling in the aftermath.

A little over three years ago, my cousin, Ben, killed himself. He was 19. A good kid. My sister was closest to our cousin and, of my siblings, I think she was hardest hit. Some of the events that precipitated his death parallel those of her friend, and so it is all the more eerie.

Emile Durkeim (one of the founding fathers of sociology) said that suicide is the most individual act a person can engage in, meaning it is the least "social" behavior. I remember realizing soon after, that Ben's death was not unlike a rock thrown into a pond: it creates a seemingly endless ripple effect. So many people were directly and indirectly affected by his actions, and the fact that I cried after hearing news of Danielle's friend, a person I had never met, makes me question Durkeim's logic. (Though I was crying for my sister - her suffering - should not affect the point I'm trying to make.)

While I understand that he was referring to suicide as an individual act in terms of mindset/one's consciousness, I can't believe that it is not inherently social. People and behaviors, actions, etc., are what comprise society...and when incalculable numbers of people are affected by one person's individual free will, it becomes a social action.

What's more, this most recent suicide has me revisiting the death of my cousin, reliving all of the anguish. Not only that, but how he could have felt so alone or so uncurably miserable that jumping off a freeway overpass was seen as the most appropriate solution. What our heads talk us into doing when our hearts are broken...or is it that our heads are broken and the hearts do the talking?

Aside from this pondering, comes a - perhaps - unanswerable question. When do we act on instinct, and when on rational thought? (It's the proverbial head vs. heart question that plagues me ceaselessly.) Without going into detail, my sister felt instinctively that she should have acted in a certain way to help her friend, but she had someone else telling her to "be smart" and avoid entangling herself too deeply in the situation. In the end, rationality won out, and truth be told, that person was probably wrong. Now all she has left is "what if?".

And the rest await ripples.