beginner's luck

ME 3, Ros 2, Shelton 1, Jason lots 'o Pong!

Mah jong = much fun!

tips for a successful fruit detox day

1. Do not have BoBo's Kung Pao Tofu leftovers in your refrigerator.

2. Do not volunteer to bring cookies to a New Year's Eve party.

Well, there's always tomorrow. No leftovers come home!

have I become Gail??

What I'm eating right now. Yum. Cabbage, spinach, carrots, red peppers, cucumbers, Mexican squash, chicken. And I will eat all of this goodness because I AM NOT GOING TO GET SICK. I'm flushing my system of all toxins - today was this and protein powder, tomorrow is all fruit (until I go to Gail's house). This evil flu lurks but it will not reign!

Food pictures? Good grief - when I start understanding all the Chinese around me, then I know I really am becoming Gail!

cultural anthropologist?

Here is a picture of Dayton shaving. But that is not all blog friends, that is not all.

So many things to notice in this picture. First, Dayton himself. Why is he shaving outside? Because in his small apartment there is no place with enough natural light. Why is he not embarrassed? Because everybody is in the same boat. Why shaving at all? Because my man is vain - there are no two ways about it, he likes to look good. I think this same day he went and got his head shaved. Notice that he's dry shaving, which when I said, "Ow," he shrugged and said he's used to it. He'll take some pain to be looking good.

Notice the chair. That's the kind of chair almost everybody has everywhere. Flip-flops - same thing - except, dress code is a very big deal. Traditionally in Liberia, Americo-Liberians (the freed slaves who ended up as colonizers of Liberia) always refused to wear the traditional clothing of 95% of the population - it set them apart. And since they had a stranglehold on the economy and all good things until 1980, lots of people wanted to look like them. Anybody upwardly mobile now wears closed shoes - immaculately polished, in addition to long pants and neatly pressed shirt. They look, I think, ridiculous in this setting.

Notice the dirt ground - it's hard-packed, and Dayton and his neighbor Asha keep it neatly swept more than once a day. There under the tree is sometimes a table and chair where Gabriel, the other neighbor (probably his feet to the far left in the center), has his daughters do homework. Their attention span is rather short, and the table and chair usually get abandoned and then abused by neighbor kids. That big black container in the back? A water tank. I don't know who it belongs to and how much it costs - I know it's not where Dayton gets his water - he carries it considerably further. The buckets and containers you see - always plastic - are usually carried on heads, even by young children. Amazing skills.

The woman with the pink skirt - that's a lappa. Very traditional to wear, though if she were going out and about (she's probably carrying water to shower) she would wear that pink one wrapped around another one - lappas are layered usually (I noticed when mine flew open a little revealingly and I wondered how people avoided that).

People going about their business in very close proximity. While you acknowledge your friends, you also don't pay attention to everybody in order to have some privacy. Though I know people can see into Dayton's apartment when I'm bathing, nobody would ever acknowledge that. The first time I spent the night at Dayton's house, I was in there brushing my teeth and stepped out to see Asha's son Chuku walking in the door with his friends, clearly looking for Dayton and so extremely shocked to see me he could not even move.

Here's a picture of Chuku from last time I was there -he's a funny kid. He sleeps right on the other side of where Dayton & I sleep, with only a thin wall between us and corrugated metal sheet roof. Let's just say, we probably know a lot about each other.

One day he was talking to me and Asha teased him, "You like her?" Yes, he said. "Dayton gonna beat you, boy!"

It was one of those really uncomfortable moments. Please do not sexualize me to a 2-year-old. If you don't really want your kid being nice to me, tell him to go do something else. If it's about you being jealous of me being with Dayton (which I got the impression of more than once), just deal with it. He doesn't want you. But mostly it's about the culture of violence - which I could only get a few people to understand from my point of view. "OK, let's see, you raise a child by beating them and threatening regularly - parents, teachers, etc. Then they get bigger and they beat other people. And if in a war with a gun, they will just extend that to killing everybody without a bigger gun."

Dayton, to his credit, asked, "What do you recommend when a child is being naughty then?" and we talked about time outs, taking away privileges - but even circumventing the problems by having open communication, clear expectations, and their basic needs - such as for parental attention - met. I could see he wasn't completely convinced, but he didn't roll on the floor laughing his ass off like the first time I told the teachers that hitting and threatening kids is not an effective teaching strategy. OK, he wasn't convinced yet, but the whole reason we got together is his passionate working for peace, so he'll be convinced. I've got my ways.

Do I miss him like crazy now and wish I could be there with him right now? Uh, hell yeah.

Is this me procrastinating because Nation and Commemoration is just a wee bit boring? Right again.

Where I used to live

This is my friend Rick, sledding to a first-place finish in a recent race in Unalakleet. OK, so I didn't technically live in Unalakleet - when we met we all lived in Elim, which is maybe a couple hundred miles away. But this - with the snow and the colors - this is much like Elim.

Look how happy those dogs are - I used to love the Iditarod race coming through Elim. After a 20 minute nap and feeding, the dogs were ready to go again, and they'd take off like gangbusters for White Mountain, yipping and howling with joy (and Selma used to sit on the front porch and scream warnings at them for going on the ocean ice).

I wonder if their dogs I knew - Chiku and Chatauqua - are in the team? They were such sweet puppies, and when they'd get loose, for some reason Chiku tended to head towards my apartment ("Um, Rick? Chiku's sitting here in my living room. Do you want her to visit for awhile?"). That white dog looking at the camera smiling - that one looks like kind of like Chiku.

Thanks to Tiffany for sending this pic and making me nostalgic.

gifts

I met with my advisor today, and he was quite helpful, especially with bringing up that education is a mesoconcept in my conceptualization - between the microfactors (families and individuals) and macrofactors (culture and society at large). There is tension between them, and that is the nexus where I wish to examine. He's freaking brilliant, and I especially like how he takes my words and makes them sound smart.

We talked about my upcoming exams (written qualifying in April), and he started to make me a little nervous for the first time. So I just stopped him, "Should I be feeling apprehension?" He said I needed only enough anxiety to be sure to prepare, but he feels with absolute certainty that I will pass them the first time - in fact, he said, he could give the questions to me as a pop quiz tomorrow and I would be fine (a thought which gives me cold sweats and hives - twelve hours writing on everything I've learned - I'm utterly unprepared).

And then he went on, saying that in his decades as a professor, he can't think of even five students he's ever had that were in the same league as me. He said I'm gifted (which is better than touched, I think), but he's just not sure how I'm going to use those gifts. Which has been my big problem, but things are focusing in for me more. I picture ... academia. Nice professorship appointment, tenure track (because with my attitude and mouth, I gotta get tenure or I'll often be unemployed), with lots of contracting and research in Africa on the side.

Which is what I have been working for a long time, I realize now - all my experiences in education and analysis and political awareness. And to be able to use gifts I've been blessed with to help others - that's all I really ask for in life. And I don't know how long I'll be on this path, but it will be good for awhile, until/if another comes along. It's kinda like my life is like Tetris, and I'm getting those pieces fitting in together well now. Obstacles disappear when a row is filled.

I'm reading Democracy and Development in Africa by Claude Ake - he died in a plane crash just after it was published in 1996 (probably on the same airline that Dayton was supposed to fly on). Only on page 3 but so far it makes me go YES! YOU GOT IT! Development, including education, is completely blocked in most of Africa because it's not really on the agenda - on the agenda is only accumulating more power. I've taken a break the past couple days from all my hard-core culture theory reading - letting it simmer. And I've not been feeling great, but I can't get sick when school starts up, so rest is on my agenda.

Michele asked a good question tonight. I was talking about Dayton, and I wonder if he will want to just stay in Liberia now because of recent developments - it's much safer than expected, seeing his mother, etc. I know how very much he misses it there. And Michele asked, "So what happens then?" and I think my answer was a little too quick to appear not-thought-out. I think for me it boils down to, I really love that man. He is wonderful in so many ways. But simultaneously, I am really happy not being married. I will marry him, if that's best for us both; but if it's not then I'm certainly not feeling any drive. I'm not quite as bad as Carrie's hives in the wedding dress, but kinda close. And I have a career to establish, which I can't do if I move to Liberia next year. Basically, if that were to happen, Dayton wanting to stay in Liberia, we could have the nicest, most pleasant break-up ever imaginable - wishing each other the best and truly meaning it. Because can I live without him? Of course I can. Eventually even happily. Can I live with him happily? I think so. So basically, I am in the best position possible - whatever happens is great. There is no way to lose here. It does not suck to be me.

Maybe I only say that because I have all these happy feelings because of Dayton seeing his mother, and it's a high I can't come down from. But I don't think so. I think I say it because I have to give props to the universe for always providing me what I need and granting me amazing opportunities when I don't have my head too far up my ass to take advantage of them.

Dayton's mother

Here's the story:
In 1990, when Charles Taylor's rebels took over most of Liberia, they came to Dayton's family (and 10% of the population). His father was a minor local official, and his uncle had been President Doe's press secretary. The rebels killed Dayton's father, and when Dayton's mother was upset and wouldn't stop crying, they took her away.

The assumption, of course, was that she was killed horrifically by them (raping older women was a particularly culture-destructing activity encouraged by rebel leaders - it destroyed the tradition of respect for elders and women - and once a 14-year-old boy had done that, he had crossed a line and couldn't go back).

But I always wondered, and thought once things stabilized in Liberia we'd contact the UN or other appropriate organization to try to find her.

Here's today's email from Dayton (in its near entirety, with a little spell-check, and bracketed comments by me):
Yes it is good to be back home and meeting my mother that I have not seen for the past 14yrs plus.That was a big suprise for me for this coming new yr.
I left Ghana on tuesday along with Bismarck, we were at the airport almost the whole day to get on the plane so I didn't have the time to email you.

When I got at the airport I met a relative of mine who immediately told me that my mother is in Monrovia and has been thinking about me all of the time and would be glad to see that I am in town. Guess what, I also met two of my brothers.

My mother was happy to see me, she explained a long story to me about how she was treated by some rebel fighters who took her away to some part of Sierra Leone in one of the villages and was forced to married to a father of one of the Sierra Leonian fighters who was fighting in both countries.

So right now I am meeting with the parents of Patricia [the mother of his children] and some of my relatives, interestingly my mother and my two brothers that are here will help in the process [of traditional divorce].

I will be going to Ivory Coast on tuesday of next week, I learnt there are lots of difficulties in getting to where they are because there are lot of check points where you will have to spend lot of money to get through.But by the grace of God I am surely going to get through.

I am facing a lot of pressure from Patricia's parents about the whereabouts of their daughter [she's in Ivory Coast because she joined him when he fled after rebels tried to kill him - and according to traditional marriage, he has responsibility for her - her parents 'signed her over' to him and to annul the marriage he needs to give her back or she needs to communicate she's happy where she is because she has remarried]. But however, I am taking it very easy with them.

Sorry I do not have a phone, I left my phone because it had screen problem, u can not recognize anything on the screen so, I did not bring it to Monrovia.

I will email you again before I leave for Ivory Coast.

I miss you.

My analysis/reaction:
Wow! His mother is alive and what a story she has to tell! I cannot wait to meet her!

Dayton is her only child, and I know he was really spoiled. His father had 6 wives, hence the brothers. One of the side effects of polygyny (polygamy with multiple wives only) is that the family is fractured - mothers look out for their own children and children gang up against the others from different mothers. He may have felt that way because he was the only one from his mother, so he didn't have brothers to watch his back. (Or sisters - African girls are tough, despite the gendered appropriateness.) He and his mother were very close, and she made tremendous sacrifices to provide him whatever he needed.

So, while I understand that his mother's presence complicates our own relationship significantly (what will she think of me? will she come live with us? how will our relationship be? what sort of grandmother will she be, and will I be able to convince her that corporal punishment is not the best discipline strategy? will he revert to a spoiled teenager in her presence? is she a good cook, and will she make all my favorite foods?), I can only be thrilled that she is now fine, and I can't wait to meet her.

Oh good grief, I just realized I wrote this like an academic text: intro, source, analysis. Man, it's time to finish the damn PhD already - it's distorting everything about me.

an offensive ethnic joke?

So, a Chinese couple (boy-girl), Mexican guy, and German-Irish North American walk into a speakeasy.

And a wedding chapel.

And a Cuban restaurant, and a chocolate factory with botanical gardens and wastewater treatment, and the Bellagio and Mandalay Bay and the Luxor, and Chinese woman's new condo.

No, not some bad ethnic joke - that was my yesterday. Big thanks to Lalo and Gail and Shelton for a very nice time. I always thought I wouldn't like Vegas, but I think it depends on the company (great time had = great company). And less than three hours of driving each way - I've spent less time getting to or from LA.

Lots of other adventures have been had on this vacation - including dim sum and an ILPS get-together.

How do I know I'm back in America? Because I've really overeaten and overspent on food. Time to cut back on both counts.

And time to focus on lots of reading. I had a nightmare last night about my first class of the day being out of control, so I'm not ready to go to get back to teaching yet.

3+ months after Katrina ...

These are pictures my friend Tami in New Orleans just took. JUST took.

Could somebody explain to me how, 3+ months after Hurricane Katrina, this city is still in shambles?

I understand that not everything will be all fixed up and rebuilt by now - but why is there still garbage and debris everywhere?

And why are basic services - like hospitals - not being helped out? Her husband Ahmed lost his job as a lab tech in the hospital (where he was trapped for 8 days after the hurricane) because the hospital closed and didn't reopen. (We met in Jordan - where he's from - where they took a break before returning to New Orleans. No, actually, we met in Egypt but we were all coming from Jordan and then hung out in Jordan when I returned.)

Does our federal government REALLY not have the resources to help with New Orleans?

Hm ... we have thus far spent $227 BILLION dollars on invading a sovereign nation (and killed 30,000 - 100,000 CIVILIANS there) destroying its infrastructure and creating terrorism movements ... but we can't pay unemployed people in New Orleans to clean up their city??

On a much lighter note - there are perks to living behind Stater Bros. parking lot. I see the Oroweat woman is here, so I can go over and get my favorite - their 100% whole wheat.

Vacation is suiting me well, though last night I dreamt about my students and woke up with a seating chart in mind. I hurt my back on Saturday and have been hobbling about ever since - hopefully it heals up soon.

The book count, well, I have 30 books to read over vacation and I've read the beginning of about 6. Having a hard time finishing anything, especially since I can't sit in a comfortable position. Especially good? Wolcott's study of a Kwakiutl Village and Mark Huband's The Liberian Civil War. Those at least I will finish today - and continue on with Lakoff and Johnson's Metaphors We Live By and Bellah et al's Habits of the Heart (a dense, long book - though interesting except I don't care all that much about American culture).

What's really distracting me? Dayton is in Liberia. And this is good, because this is what he needs to do, but I am beyond worried and scared for him. It doesn't help to see sites like this about the Liberian civil war. And in his last email to me, before he left, he brought to my attention that George Weah - the soccer star who almost won the election - is calling on the youth to protest the president (Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf). There was violent rioting in the capital, Monrovia, last week.

So as much as all these books and websites say the conflict is over, I have my doubts. So do the Liberian refugees, who are in no hurry to return home. About 10% of the population was killed - and not just killed. Tortured, raped, disemboweled, decapitated, and organs eaten. It has been a horrific war in so many ways. I don't know how a people moves past that.

still making me chuckle

"You want me to turn off his electricity? How 'bout his water, yeah? You know I have keys to all the gates in town - we can get in."

rich points

Michael Agar, a linguistic anthropologist, describes rich points as those times that make you go, "Hunh?" When something jars because it doesn't make sense. As an anthropologist, that's the kind of thing that makes me want to look more closely, to figure out how it makes sense - what cultural aspects are at play.

Apparently I'm not good at the culture of my university's department. It seems I'm often in conflict with somebody when I ask what seems to me to be a simple question. I asked two of my committee members what they think of Wolcott as an ethnographer, and I get long responses that basically refuse to answer the question and go off on other directions. I ask how long between written and oral exams I have to wait, and the same crap. It's so often like that.

Part of the problem is they want to keep me/us the students here as long possible - and most of us have figured out that there isn't much for us to get here so we want the hell out. But instead of offering us what we can get by sticking around longer, we get ignored or circumvented replies off-topic. It's frustrating. I want out. I will get out. And when I ask for explicit directions about what to do, it's the same crap. They don't tell us what we need to know, and then they want to punish us for not knowing it. The best example of this is when the dean scolded my friend via email for not knowing certain theoretical and methodological things - which I had actually asked about in class and couldn't get straight answers. I just want out!! Unfortunately, each person on my committee worked on their PhD's for many, many years - and are resistant to my hyper-speed plans. But they're the best the school has to offer - the smartest and most willing to actually do work with me. So, I'm kinda stuck.

Anyway, that's not that big of a frustration anymore - just, a rich point. But I reject that rich point's importance. To get the kind of information I want, I would have to develop different strategies which I really refuse to do. Even though I'm not really getting what I want, pushing the envelope as I do has its own benefits. As my advisor says, my complaining could get old, except that I'm trying to make things better instead of easier, so he actually appreciates it.

But another rich point today, more interesting. Sitting at a table with two boys who recently transferred to my continuation school from the high school up the street, one said, "You should teach there." Why? Something about them seeing me as a "real" teacher and cool, and that school being entertaining for all the fights. What's interesting is how they perceive school - this is not a real school? Why not? What makes me a "real" teacher? That is interesting.

I'm drinking masala tea. I first drank it in Ghana - one of the volunteers who left the day I arrived was from Chennai/Madras, India (where I was planning to volunteer in January) and he had brought it. I bought some in my short time in Chennai, and enjoy it. What's my point? Um, it's yummy and halfway gone and I'm crazy to drink the caffeine so late in the day. And how it's interesting that I was going to volunteer someplace that provides volunteers to other places.

new computer

It's a pretty Presario - silver with white keys. Because when speaking of computing, it's style over substance (because I don't understand any of the substance).

Already first problem - couldn't get onto internet. It was the Norton - it blocked everything.

I'm just so damned thrilled to be typing on a keyboard with an "A" key that works properly.

I think my roommate and her boyfriend have been abducted by aliens - what else would explain the packages of ground turkey and frozen vegetables left behind on the counter?

To apply or not to apply, that is the question. The same institute that gave me my life-changing internship fellowship a year and a half ago is offering dissertation fellowships and I haven't missed the deadline yet. It's a major hassle to apply - getting everything together, especially letters of recommendation. But, the real problem is - they don't allow me to work much during that time, and the fellowship is only for $16,000. So, maybe if it were just me I could live on that. But a family of four? Um, no. And why apply for that when I know I can teach next year and make significantly more and still probably be able to get my dissertation done?

On the one hand, it looks good on CV's to get fellowships. On the other, it's a pain in the ass and I already have enough to do. For $16,000 I could probably live in Africa all year and do research for an entire year ... but that would put my life off a year, and it would push my limits. To spend 9 months always sweaty, with never a flush toilet or dependable electricity - I think I can pass on doing that AND going into debt. Hm. It might be good to do the application just to get all my thoughts in order. Or not.

I better go read now. Alan Peshkin's God's Choice - an ethnographic study of fundamentalist Christian school done by a Jew. So far, quite good - much better than the early ethnographies he did in West Africa.

I got almost nothing done today because of computer purchasing and fixing, but I shouldn't get too freaked out about that. Also had a very nice lunch with Jenny, Michele, and Shirley. And even got a to-go order of Templo rice and beans to fuel me through a productive tomorrow.

email

First, money. This email came yesterday:

"We greet u and your friends who have gartherd some sum of money for us.
We do appreciate your effort very much.

From the unset of the School we were sure that things were going to be better 7 of which we re still sure because of ur presence at the start of the School's year.

Our surety was & still is u re a woman of truth potential and accountability who is going to asist us in getting to our expected end with all of us efforts potentials being used for the Liberian Children in Buduburam Camp.

With this in mind [ME], we as Teachers at PCO Refugee School, would like to appeal
to you & your noble friends to continue to be of assistance to us and the Children
as we continue to offer sacrificial services to our Liberian Children.

We again extend our sincere thanks to all of u and it is our fervent prayers that
the Almighty one endowed u wiht wisdom as u continue to render services to humanity.

Hope to hear from u soon.

TEACHERS (list of their names)"
***********
Ugh. I was SO CLEAR that I was not starting MY school, that my responsibilities were to help wtih starting but not supporting. And the organization hasn't fulfilled their responsibility, and now the teachers are guilting me? But I understand why they're asking me - I'm somebody they trust, and I did hire them.

So, I asked Dayton what to do. Glad to have a culturally astute Liberian hunk-o-burnin-love.

Speaking of whom, he has malaria and dental problems. We just talked on the phone and he's hardly been out of bed for days. He did get medication for the malaria and he's recuperating, and he's trying to find "herbs" for the tooth problems. (I can't help but think the dental problems are my fault, that I'm contagious somehow.)

So, second, money. Money is SO TIGHT right now, like I probably can't even go up to Oregon for Christmas, and I want to send him money for dental work and the trip to get the girls and divorce and all that, but it's kind of like do that or pay rent. Sucks.

Second email, not directly about money, came today from the guy I met in the airport in Dubai with "Thankgod":
Hi [my name],compliment of the season.
i'm sorry i've not been able to mail u since we met on dubai transit on ur way to USA. but u're supposed to have mailed and know how i am faring if actually u have me in mind.
honestly,u have been always on my mind but due to time factor i have not been able to communicate u on till now.
so, how are u generally? fine.
right now, i am back in nigeria to pick my football clearance papers from nigeria football governing body (NFA) but i don't think i will go back to kuwait again bcos there weather climate is very hot.
i want to stop till i hear from u.
as soon as i hear from u, i will send christmas/emotional cards to u.
bye n luv u.
from vitalis c.nwachukwu."
****************

How do I know he's Nigerian? First, who the hell knows his real name. Charles (his email address)? Vitalis? Something else? Sketchy.

Second, trying guilt on me.

Third, IM lingo.

Fourth, he sent this to me twice, the first time with an error in location that shows it's a form letter he sent to all the chicks he picked up.

Dammit, Nigerians are probably the only major prejudice I have. Love and appreciate all the other West AFricans but don't trust Nigerians AT ALL.

Now, if I hadn't been in a relationship, I would have done this guy (he had a hotel room in the airport) - he was nice and fun and very hot. Individually, I can like Nigerians just fine, as long as they're adapting to a different way that makes sense to me.

Anyway, crazy crosscultural emails. Gotta wait for Dayton to be better and get his input.

at school

I guess I gotta continue this blog. I called it MEEWT because I'm so fascinated with cultural differences - and I keep running smack-dab into them here, back "home," too. Reading Michael Agar's Language Shock (1996) helps me sort through what I'm experiencing.

Here's how I know I'm in a place so different:

Walking into the office today, I heard a boy talking to another: "Yeah, one of the reasons we broke up is she kept trying to make me that baby's father."

Um, yeah. These kids get more action and are more fertile than most the adults I know.

It's raining here in the sub-desert. Which is so much better than the nasty winds we've been having, but it's still a discontinuity - something I don't expect. At least this year I'm not riding my bicycle everywhere - I just have to stay dry in the dash across the parking lot; no more worrying about horrible splashes of mud puddle all over my pants.

I do like my job, usually. Yesterday was a really good day - kids engaged and on-task, except 4th period where I really yelled at M. for being disengaged. She pouted, but she'll get over it. That class kinda makes me crazy, but it will be combined with 3rd period and hopefully things will sort out better.

But, I worry a little about my steamroller style of teaching - denying kids of their free will. "You WILL succeed because I say so." Will reprint here the long email I sent to Jenny about it.

I really look forward to the weekend - curled up with hot chocolate and lots of books. Then just one more week of teaching, and a two week break - delicious!