I’ve been neglecting my blog for far too long. Virtual hugs! (I know saying virtual *anything* is lame but my new corporate life has allowed me to embrace cliches. Remember, there is no “I” in TEAM)
After a loooong separation, Phil came to visit this weekend. Here are a few things I learned:
1. The cable guy will always arrive at the most inopportune time. Hoping the doorbell sound is only in your head does not work. Especially if it’s as annoying as mine.
2. Charles Shaw is an evil, evil man. Also a genius who’s probably making a fortune in the recession but still evil. I’d never tried ‘Two Buck Chuck’ before so I picked some up at Trader Joe’s. Just one sip gave me a headache.
3. Don’t drink coffee while in your car. I have sticky cupholders full of liquid to prove it.
4. Fried sushi is not your friend. Cheese doesn’t help. I’m sure the Japanese don’t approve.
Still, it was a lovely weekend of movies, naps, and giggles.
I wrote about the unsolved murders of women in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico a few months ago. Over 400 young women to date have been killed in the booming border town, home to dozens of corporations’ factories. Their stories have been memorialized in novels, films, and other art, but artist Andrea Arroyo has chosen a different way to draw attention to the women of Juarez.
Arroyo has created over 200 chalk drawings so far and intends to dedicate a piece to each victim. The drawings, white chalk on black paper, are intended to “create a tribute to the women and celebrate their lives” (Womensenews.com). The stark effect is supposed to be reminiscent of police chalk outlines of bodies and the large scale of the project is haunting. Since the bodies were often dismembered, (evidence that the criminals specifically targeted women are the bodies with breasts and reproductive organs mutilated) the drawings often focus on just one body part.
Though artists have created work based on the murders before, Arroyo’s work is significant to me because of this quote:
“As I thought about the theme, I was increasingly intrigued by the idea that these women died before their full potential was realized, and that each victim may have become a modern day Joan of Arc, Marie Curie, Rosa Parks or Frida Kahlo.”
These murders have received so little attention in the mainstream media and by Mexican and American authorities. I believe one reason is that these girls’ (I use the word ‘girl’ instead of ‘woman’ here because so many victims were young teenagers) lives are seen as expendable: they are poor, uneducated, and their labor in the maquiladoras is easily replaced. But that doesn’t mean they are unintelligent or didn’t have goals. Who knows what talents these girls had or could have developed if given the chance?
The attitude of women’s self worth defined only by their bodies is present everywhere, but particularly in women of color, immigrants or not. Arroyo attempts to debunk this myth with her work; I hope other prominent forces will follow her example. Until the murders stop and are solved, the victims deserve continued attention.
On my last day in Boston, Phil and I went to Walden Pond. We had been talking about going for practically the whole summer, but waiting turned out to be worth it. Full disclosure: I’ve never read any of Thoreau’s works beyond excerpts in school, though I own both Walden and Civil Disobedience. I expected the experience to be tranquil and inspire me to learn about an influential writer, but the place turned out to be different than I thought.
What I thought Walden Pond would look like. This is actually a view from the opposite, unpopulated side.
What visitors first see when entering the park. SO MANY CHILDREN.
The area was quite a bit more crowded than I expected, especially considering park officials limit the number of guests and we actually had to wait half an hour before entering because they had reached capacity. It was nice to see children exploring a natural space as opposed to a public pool, but completely unexpected. And so many Indian families! Needless to say, I felt self-conscious.
Walking the trails was much more pleasant. They completely surround the large lake and the seclusion allows time and silence for introspection. Private places to enter the lake and swim also abound, which Phil took advantage of. (I held his clothes and sat on a log.)
We found the site of Thoreau’s cabin, not intact unfortunately. The mosquitoes and my allergies were bothering me terribly so I couldn’t wait to leave. But it is a lovely spot for nature lovers and people watchers.
Okay, I know this news isn’t really breaking anymore. But I’m so excited to report the good news after following the reporters’ journey on this blog.
Apparently, North Korean president Kim Jong Il specifically requested former President Bill Clinton to negotiate for Ling and Lee’s release after rejecting former Vice President Al Gore and president of Current TV, which employs Ling and Lee.
The reporters were released under a special pardon and are said to be in good health. Details on what exactly the meeting between Clinton and Kim Jong Il entailed are still forthcoming, but good wishes from President Obama, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, and other leaders are plentiful. I applaud the bravery of Ling and Lee and hope this case raises awareness about North Korean politics. I’m curious to know what exactly happened to the two in North Korea but I’m sure book, movie, and television deals are already in the works.
Meanwhile, check out the creepy picture the North Korean government released. Just looking at Kim Jong Il makes me shiver.
Like most kids, I grew up watching Mr. Rogers Neighborhood on TV. Maybe more than most growing up in the 90s because we didn’t have cable and only received 5 channels (sometimes 6 on a good day, when my brother made me hold the antenna at a certain angle).
I always found him comforting; his slow, deliberate actions and purposeful way of speaking reminded me of my dad. It took me years before I realized he also voiced the puppets in Make-Believe Land. And he taught me how crayons were made!
I’ve been a little anxious lately and Phil made me watch the video above. In 1969, President Nixon wanted to cut funding for the fairly new Public Broadcasting Stations and divert the funds to the Vietnam War. Mr. Rogers eloquently explains the need for children to hear his messages of “being special just the way they are” and how talking about and dealing with feelings is an important skill.
The video made me realize his message isn’t just for children and everybody needs to be reminded of their worth now and again.
Just for kicks, here is an animated Mr. Rogers on another great (not just for kids!) show, Arthur:
The Commonwealth requires the education of the people as the safeguard of order and liberty.
The above quotation is inscribed on the east side of the Boston Public Library. I had no idea of the building’s incredible architecture when I decided to go today – I just wanted a new place to study! The architect Charles McKim chose to have quotations on the sides of the building as he was influenced by ancient Roman basilicas.
The inside is also reminiscent of an Italian basilica with vaulted ceilings and frescoes on each wall.
I was so in awe, it took me a while to get settled. Even the Bates Reading Room I set up in was so much more than a workspace.
This is the courtyard, where many were enjoying the sunny Saturday (finally!) in Boston.
Though the security at the library is strict (I wasn’t allowed to bring my coffee in and a security guard asked me to remove my water bottle from a wooden table) it is open to the public everyday and offers free wi-fi. It’s so important, in an era where higher education is becoming more and more expensive, for the government to provide a necessity like education to its citizens. I just read that Lebanese writer Khalil Gibran educated himself at the same library – a monument in Copley Square is dedicated to him.
The last two months have been such a gift to me – to be able to read and study and take advantage of the resources the city of Boston and Harvard provide. I hope our future leaders are as optimistic about the value of education as our founding fathers were.
I popped into Urban Outfitters today before my GRE class. Its location in Harvard Square means it attracts a LOT of fey hipsters, but it has an awesome bargain basement.
Their latest decorating scheme is selling LPs of recent indie albums, along with made-to-look-retro record players. I admit I looked twice at the copy of one of my favorite albums, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel. I mentally pictured the sleeve framed on my future apartment wall while “Holland 1945″ played in the background.
Then I realized that kind of conspicuous consumption would outrage Jeff Mangum. I skipped off empty handed to my class to fill myself with knowledge instead. I think Jeff would have approved.
Mayawti Kumari is the current Chief Minister (like a governor) of Uttar Pradesh, the most populous state in India. Her victory was significant not because of her gender, but because of her caste affiliation. Though formally abolished in India, old attitudes about the caste system still prevail.
Kumari is a member of the scheduled caste, or former ‘untouchables.’ Untouchables, as they were formerly referred to, are the lowest caste in India and suffered brutality and discrimination for centuries, although no genetic difference between them and other Indians exist. These caste members are now allotted, according to the Indian constitution, fourteen percent of available space in all public universities. This policy is clearly stated, unlike American affirmative action which is shrouded in secrecy making lawsuits and common complaints difficult to prove.
Although Kumari benefitted from the reparations provided to her as a ‘dalit,’ she has used her power to forge ties with Brahmins, historically the most respected caste in India and has spoken out against the reparation system, saying fellow dalits are equal to other Indians and do not deserve special treatment.
In 2008, Forbes magazine named her the 59th most powerful woman in the world and speculation about her running for prime minister of India continues to grow. (India has, of course, already elected a woman prime minister unlike the United States.)
Congratulations on your accomplishments, Chief Minister Mayawati. Your bravery is inspirational to all women!
Today was my last day of class. I’m sad it’s ending — though I still have a 20-page paper to write. After class, a friend and I walked to Newbury Street, the 5th Avenue of Boston.
Walking was probably a mistake. It was humid and sticky, raindrops were falling sporadically but we stayed dry. We walked across the Charles Bridge, saw the sailboats, passed MIT’s campus (and their ‘Frat Row’ which is right in the middle of the city).
Newbury Street was exactly as I imagined it. We passed Bergdorf’s, Cynthia Rowley, Burberry, Marc Jacobs — and drooled over the window displays. My friend K. and I tried on clothes at the stores we could afford, Zara and H&M. I picked up this fab dress on sale:
Exhausting public transit ride home, during which I fueled myself with an old fashioned Dunkin’ Donut. I love DD on every corner here, they’re as ubiquitous as Starbucks used to be.
I know it’s embarrassingly twee to love Zooey Deschanel. Kinda like adoring Dave Eggers after he started calling his fans “niggardly” in interviews. Or Zach Braff after he started dating Mandy Moore. But I can’t help it, I find these commercials adorable.
Unfortunately, high waisted frocks do not flatter my curveless, short torso-ed figure. But I wear them anyway. And I’ll justify my Zooey love for the following three reasons:
1. She made a totally irrelevant, irresponsible, insignificant character on Weeds entertaining.
2. She plays a better Manic Pixie Dream Girl than Kirsten Dunst could ever hope to. I cringed my way through Crazy/Beautiful and Elizabethtown.
3. She was named after Zooey Glass! Is liking J.D. Salinger’s lesser-known works still okay?
I was so in awe, it took me a while to get settled. Even the Bates Reading Room I set up in was so much more than a workspace.
Newbury Street was exactly as I imagined it. We passed Bergdorf’s, Cynthia Rowley, Burberry, Marc Jacobs — and drooled over the window displays. My friend K. and I tried on clothes at the stores we could afford, Zara and H&M. I picked up this fab dress on sale:
Exhausting public transit ride home, during which I fueled myself with an old fashioned Dunkin’ Donut. I love DD on every corner here, they’re as ubiquitous as Starbucks used to be.
