Ode to Tourists

2 02 2010

Enjoying being a tourist in Israel.

Admittedly, I roll my eyes at tourists. While living in Ireland, I even spoke with an Irish accent to avoid being mistaken for one. Every time I travel, I intentionally forego my white tennis shoes, and I find a guidebook that is unassuming and plain. (Generally, I tuck a guidebook into my purse, and only open it while no one is looking). I brush past slow tourists, and take photos covertly, keeping my camera at my waist rather than up near my face.

But I am beginning to understand that tourists are a good thing. Sure, tourists mean an increased GDP. But more than that, I love seeing local tourists–tourists who explore their own countries.

If 2/3 of Americans don’t have passports, that means that Americans are exploring America on their vacation time. We have disposable income to travel within our own country. In Asia, when climbing Mt. Fuji, I discovered that submitting the mountain is not only a touristy thing to do, but that it is a touristy Japanese thing to do. At the end of the trek, I was surrounded by probably 2,000 Japanese climbers, all enjoying a part of their own country. I have sunned myself on Spanish beaches, where the dozens of Spaniards around me put my pale skin to shame. A country with its own home-grown tourists means a wealthy country.

Conversely, while enjoying a safari resort in Kenya, I looked around and saw lots of plump Europeans. The only Kenyans in sight were the ones serving us our mango juice. The Ghanaian coast beach resort that I spent a night at was filled with white guests and black employees.

Tourism is a good thing. But even more, tourism with local tourists is a wonderful thing. It is a sign that the country is supporting itself. It is a sign that the people of a country believe in their landscape, and that they are proud of their surroundings.

I love tourists. Tourists mean hope for the future.





Disaster in Haiti… and what you can do to help

13 01 2010

Image from WashingtonPost.com

I was devastated when I turned on the radio this morning and learned about the earthquake in Haiti. Already a country that is struggling to thrive, Haiti is perhaps one of the worst places for a disaster of this magnitude. I thought that the BBC’s article was particularly helpful as I sought to understand the extent of the damage. You can read about it here.

My first thought was “WHAT CAN I DO!?!?!?!” One thing that Red Cross has committed to is “pledging an initial $200,000 to assist communities impacted by this earthquake, and is prepared to take further action as local responders assess the situation. As with most earthquakes, we expect to see immediate needs for food, water, temporary shelter, medical services and emotional support.”

To help the Red Cross’ efforts, you can text “HAITI” to 90999, thereby donating $10 to the relief effort. Thank you for your continued support of and attention to the crisis in Haiti.





The sanctity of life

31 12 2009

Back in college, in one of my psych classes, we discussed Kohlberg’s dilemma. Forgive me for so callously simplifying, but it boils down to this: if someone you knew were sick, and you had to steal drugs to make them well, would you? It comes down to what you value more: honesty or human life.

Kohlberg begs the apt question of the importance of human life.

In South Africa, from what I observed while living there, human life is sometimes seen as somewhat disposable. If someone with a gun comes up to a car with the intent of merely hijacking it, the driver may find themselves a casualty, even if they give up the car willingly. Similarly, some of my colleagues at a local newspaper casually mentioned one day, “Oh you know… AIDS… we all get it sometime.”

In popular culture, we see this same sort of cavalier attitude toward death in film (thanks to characters like the Joker, who kills willy-nilly), and in video games (sorry for all those who loved Halo).

While I am frustrated by those who have little value for human life, I can agree that it is a difficult commodity on which to place a price tag.

But I will venture a guess. Life is sacred. It is a gift whose significance is immeasurably great. It is worth more than billions of broken hearts, buckets of salty tears, and rivers of donated blood. Its weight can only be felt in that moment that life is teetering on the edge of lost–when a truck narrowly misses a car, when a loved one approaches the brink, when the palpable scent of existence hangs in the balance.

My heart bleeds today for to all those who have felt the frightening sacredness of life. It is awesome. And it is sobering. May we not forget its significance at the end of this holiday season as we read the news, watch a film, or spend time with our families and friends.





My most prized posession

29 12 2009

Only 1/3 of Americans have one. Much of the world wants one. My passport is my most prized possession.

When living in South Africa, I went through a phase where I wanted to move there permanently. I was discussing this one day with a friend, and he challenged me, “Yes, you would like to stay here and be a South African. But would you be willing to give up your American passport?”

He had discovered my weakness: my passport. It is more precious to me than gold, and sits reverently in my safety deposit box. I love its worn, dog-eared pages full of stamps. I recently had to apply for more pages, and I love the way they stick out defiantly in the middle. I love how it reads like a map of my heart, and how it explains pieces of my personality. A year in Ireland, three weeks in Kenya, a couple days in a few Eastern European countries, a week in Japan, ten days in Ghana… the highlights of my life are all recorded in that little book. It is my scrapbook, my badge of honor, and my hope for my future.

And I would never be able to give it up.

It stands for something more, though. Despite the fact that Americans have become relatively unpopular in the last few years, my passport is still a key that unlocks dozens of doors. I get waved through security with relatively few questions, and I hardly ever have to contact an embassy for a special visa. Not so for my African and South American friends. They have to apply for a visa to travel anywhere. They face the possibility of rejection, and the danger of snap judgments based on their marital status, their bank account balance, and their travel history.

My passport makes me feel privileged and guilty all at the same time. It makes me brim with pride but also avert my eyes in shame (when I arrive at immigration in another country and get waved through while others are questioned or brought into a different room). But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.





World Aids Day 2009

29 11 2009

I watched “Meet the Press” this morning, and saw Bill and Melinda Gates discussing their foundation’s philanthropic investments that advance research on HIV/AIDS and promote ARVs (antiretroviral drugs) in Africa. I wish we could all be Bill and Melinda Gates. But I was convicted this morning as I watched the interview and concurently read in the newspaper that Tuesday marks the 21st “World AIDS Day.” I am doing very little to address HIV/AIDS.

In fact, since it is a sexually-transmitted disease, I think that a stigma still hovers around HIV/AIDS. We do not want to discuss it, since it ashames us. When we bring it up it, images arise of promiscuity, infidelity, and past indiscretions.

In honor of World AIDS Day this year, though, I have committed to something small: I am going to discuss with my family and friends the HIV/AIDS pandemic. This year marks perhaps the first year that the virus is in decline, but the fact remains that Thabo Mbeki and Robert Mugabe have suggested publically that poverty causes AIDS. And a rumor persists that sex with a virgin will cure someone of HIV/AIDS. And our government could be doing far more to address this issue.

What are you doing about the HIV/AIDS crisis?





“Eat your food. There are starving children in Africa”

22 11 2009

As I shift my thoughts toward turkey and stuffing and gravy and green beans and pumpkin pie and cranberries and abundance, I cannot help but think of those that have none. The almost three billion people who live on less than $2 per day have a difficult time getting enough food.

I spent yesterday with a group of high schoolers who were just starting to understand human needs and global inequalities. As we discussed what we could do to help people in our neighborhood who had little, one of the girls piped up with, “I mean, I know my Mom said it to me growing up, but it’s true! We need to start sending food over to those starving kids in Africa!” I probably would have said the same thing in high school.

But then I learned about how dangerous food aid can be to local food markets. And I learned how this practice is disproportionately generous to American farmers who are able to sell their bumper crops and maintain a low supply to demand ratio. And I heard Roger Thurow and Scott Kilman talk about their new book Enough. And I read about the food market crisis in the Economist.

I realize now, as an adult, that the issue is at once more complex but also more simple than we think it is. More complex because there is more at fault than supply and demand and aid and public policy. But more simple because there IS enough food in the world to feed everyone.

This Thanksgiving, therefore, I am not thinking that I should pack up the mashed potatoes and send them over to Africa. I am wondering how I can encourage and support efforts to empower those living in poverty to feed themselves.





“The Support of Israel and Iran Cannot Go Hand in Hand.”

12 11 2009

IMG_5135Ahmadinejad spoke the above words on Tuesday night, seeking to pressure Obama into choosing between the two countries. In the same press conference, he declared that capitalist exceses had caused the globaleconomic crisis, as interest paid on investments are considered usury by most muslim sects. Ahmadinejad did not mention his own, perhaps independently struggling economy, nor did he discuss nuclear issues.

If you have ever traveled to Israel, you know that they scrutinize your passport for signs of a stamp from an enemy nation. Similarly, if you attempt to enter an Islamic state you will generally be heavily questioned if you have a stamp from Israel. Ahmadinejad’s speech is a manifestation of those micro experiences.

While I agree that some of the Israel-Iran relationship is unsalvageable, the only way to even hope for peace is through careful, mediated discussions over statebuilding and peaceful negotiation. If the leaders of these two countries cannot find a way to work together, then I would venture to say that the world needs an Obama who is dedicated to the proposition that all country deserves an opportunity to speak.

I also spoke about Ahmadinejad HERE, and I hope that not all of my future posts in the future will be negative. But did want to highlight the political pressure here in an attempt to show just how complicated the Middle East Peace Talks are that the White House is trying to encourage.

You can read more about Ahmadinejad’s speech HERE.





The Popularity of Helping the Poor

10 11 2009

IMG_1441Angelina and Brad. Madonna. Matt Damon. Even Paris Hilton has jumped on board. Philanthropy has become increasingly attractive. Not trying to be cynical here, but I am pretty sure that helping the poor is the new black. In an era of corporate social responsibility (which has remained despite financial downturn), of celebrities adopting babies from impoverished countries, and even of local coffee shops promoting “fairly traded” coffee, helping the poor has blossomed into a cultural imperative.

Indeed, the world is ripe for it–the internet connects us better than ever before across borders that separate wealthy countries from poor ones. And facebook allos us to broadcast our interests and day to day realities.

But I cannot help but wonder whether the paramount examples of selflessness in the face of poverty would approve. Would Mother Teresa, who lived most of her adult life without shoes that fit, approve of us broadcasting our philanthropy on twitter? “I just gave a loan to an entrepreneur today!” (I am pretty sure that is one of my tweets). Would Mohammed Yunus grin at the reality that his microfinance has turned into an opportunity for investment rather than on a focus on the poorest of the working poor?

THIS ARTICLE in the Financial Times really made me start thinking about the blessings and the pitfalls of the popularity of helping the poor. What a great reminder to be circumspect and thoughtful with both my interest in the poor and also with my social networking surrouding that interest.





“No Loo, No ‘I Do’”

1 11 2009

What sounds like a jingle from the 1950s has actually become a very powerful slogan for women’s rights in India. I always wondered if women would begin to gain a foothold in status when the population of sex-selected children were able to marry. Now the disproportionately low number of women can advocate to have their voices heard. Women can afford to be choosy when selecting a husband, and the government of India has capitalized on that luxury.

“No Loo, No ‘I Do’,” the government’s slogan reads, advocating for more sanitary homes and a correspondingly healthier country. The government encourages women to refuse to marry a man unless he is able to provide her with a toilet.

It’s clever, it’s witty, and let’s be honest: it is a BRILLIANT move, considering that half of India lacks access to a latrine. Not only is the campaign allowing for a more rapid, grassroots-driven development, but it also promotes the status of women.

Well done, India. You can learn more about this new initiative HERE.





Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy and The Taliban Generation

26 10 2009

Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy is an incredible woman. Journalist, filmmaker, visionary, and advocate, she flits along the frontlines of the Pakistani Taliban and interviews top leaders and young recruits alike. Her eyes flash with determination, and her voice drips with urgency. Her wisdom is far beyond her 30 years of age, and her camera lens has seen far more terror and turmoil than most people see in a lifetime.

I met Sharmeen this evening at an event held in an innocuous community house in the suburbs of Chicago. She premiered her film The Taliban Generation, which describes the madrasa education system in Pakistan, The schools have become a breeding ground for the Taliban.

In the film she has an encounter with Shaheed, a 13-year old boy in Karachi. Shaheed, despite a lack of education in math, science, history, and literature apart from the Koran, has been taught how to think about women.

“Women are meant for domestic care, and that’s what they should do,” he says. “The government should forbid women and girls from wandering around outside just like the government has banned plastic bags. No one uses them anymmore. We should do the same with women.”

I am so grateful for Sharmeen’s work in Pakistan, speaking for those who have no voice and spotlighting a global problem that keeps women hidden and leaves an entire country in bondage. Tonight was a wake-up call for me. And a blessing. All at the same time.

You can watch Sharmeen’s documentary, which aired on PBS a few months ago, here.