Apparently, all hotel 50 miles from Washington, D.C. are completely booked for the week of the inauguration. Which is making people very imaginative and crafty (and desperate). Here's what I found on Craigslist:
Apartment to Swap for Inauguration - Calling all Palin Pals!
Are you a down on your luck oil lobbyist? Or are you a closet Nazi/skin head? Do you think global warming is God giving the world a hug? Do you hate arugula and lattes? Why subject yourself to an endless chant of 'Yes We Can.'
During inauguration week, escape to Akron, Ohio, where 40 percent of the people voted McCain/Palin! Take this once in a life time opportunity to stick your head in the sand while your world falls apart around you.
Apartment located in Highland Square, where only the most conservative gays, lesbians and artists reside.
Room for 2, 01/17, leaving 20th (Capital area)
Looking for a place to stay for 2 queer guys (friends) from Asheville. Looking for in or very near Capital area for the Inauguration; near Metro a plus. Can pay. Arriving by train. We're both easy going, professional, sane, and very excited about the future! Hotels booked for 50 miles. We'll come bearing gifts. :)
Photographer needs accommodation Jan 18-21 for inauguration (DC Area)
Aloha,
I'm a photojournalist coming from Honolulu, HI to cover the inauguration, just found most hotels all booked up. Does anyone have a spare bedroom or apt I could rent for a few days? I can pay around $80-$100/night and will bring the macadamia nuts and anything else you want from Hawaii. Hawaii shirt? You got it. I will just need a place to sleep and keep warm, most of my days will be out working. Internet access is big plus.
Please reply back with your location, how close it is to mass transit, restaurants, etc.
Mahalo!
before Dec 31, 2008 in Orlando Florida for DC inauguration
I have a 2006 year timeshare week (7 days) that I am about to use or loose. It has to be taken before Dec 31, 2008 in Orlando Florida. I want to go to the presidential inauguration in January. If any one is interested in traveling to Florida before the year is out and willing to swap their DC place for about 3 days In January, around inauguration day, please let me know. Thanks
Hum, this makes me think that maybe there's a buck or two in his inauguration as well...
November 17, 2008
November 15, 2008
My sister's pretty talented
Look at what my sister made for our cousin's newborn! I mean, I almost want to get pregnant just to have her make me one of these cute wool sweaters (yikes, just kidding mom).
November 13, 2008
How to Make Indian Chai Tea
So apparently, those Chai tea sacks I buy at Giant, are not the "authentic" way to make Indian tea. Or so my neighbor says. I don't know what makes her such her expert (other than being Gujarati) but I'm a good sport, so I let her show me how to make Chai
Step 1
Get help from a neighbor for this. Bonus points if your neighbor is Indian.
Step 2
Boil water with coarse tea grains (made from dried tea leaves), a couple of cardamom pods, and masala. Masal is Hindi for "spice". You can make chicken masala of course, but I suspect the combination of spices is completely different. I think that this chai masala is a mix of ginger, anise, orange peel, cloves and peppercorn.
Step 3
Add sugar. I think that the myth is that Chai is incredibly sweet, but it doesn't have to be. I like it on the less-sweet side.
Step 4
Pour in a generous amount of milk so that the tea's color is light chocolate brown.
Step 5
Boil the tea longer enough so that the milk boils and rises up three times.
Step 6
Pour tea through a strainer into glass cups.
Step 7
Enjoy!
Step 1
Get help from a neighbor for this. Bonus points if your neighbor is Indian.
Step 2
Boil water with coarse tea grains (made from dried tea leaves), a couple of cardamom pods, and masala. Masal is Hindi for "spice". You can make chicken masala of course, but I suspect the combination of spices is completely different. I think that this chai masala is a mix of ginger, anise, orange peel, cloves and peppercorn.
Step 3
Add sugar. I think that the myth is that Chai is incredibly sweet, but it doesn't have to be. I like it on the less-sweet side.
Step 4
Pour in a generous amount of milk so that the tea's color is light chocolate brown.
Step 5
Boil the tea longer enough so that the milk boils and rises up three times.
Step 6
Pour tea through a strainer into glass cups.
Step 7
Enjoy!
November 06, 2008
Two Vignettes
I know, I know, Obama is a smart man and deserves the Presidency, and people tell me that his skin-color is irrelevant. But is it really? I remember two instances in Congo that make me value his skin-color.
She’s Never Seen Someone Like Us
In Congo two years ago, a colleague and I were walking on a large dirt road connecting patches of jungle to three- or four-hut villages. After walking for a bit, my colleague’s city demeanor, and my whiteness attracted considerable attention, and a group of men with their hunting gear (spears, machetes, shoulder bags, and flip-flops) feel in easy stride along with us, grinning, talking animatedly, and generally keeping pace. My colleague understood the local dialect a little bit, since his mother was from the area.
He started translating what they were saying:
“She’s probably scared of us. She probably thinks we are so uncivilized. Has she ever seen black skin before?”
After 5 minutes of chatter, my colleague answered in their language:
“Actually, you may not know this, but Condoleezza Rice, a black woman, is Secretary of State; and Colin Powell has a high position in the Government as well. There is a large population of black Americans there.”
I was floored that he knew my Government so intimately. I couldn’t have answered as well.
Slavery
A nun who happened to be a nurse, asked me whether I had interacted with a lot of black people in my life. I laughed a little, telling her that there is a large population of minorities in America, including African-Americans, Asians, and Latinos. She was surprised, and asked me why so many Africans ended up in the United States? Did they immigrate there in a large numbers?
I answered that yes, there are quite a few recent immigrants, but really, it was largely due to slavery. Africans were brought in during the 1700 and 1800s as slave laborers.
While obliviously delivering my snapshot of U.S. history, her stern face quickly jerked back like I had slapped her with a leather glove before a duel. She was obviously shocked and dismayed by this fact, and was reacting physically to the notion.
Embarrassed and sheepish, realizing that she had idea about the existence of slavery in the United States, I fervently wished I had lied or said nothing at all. She avoided me for the rest of the day.
These are two little vignettes. They may seem inconsequential, but they have been in my mind for the last two days, and I can’t help reliving them. I am proud we elected a smart, capable, down to earth person to be president. The fact that he is black is icing on the cake.
She’s Never Seen Someone Like Us
In Congo two years ago, a colleague and I were walking on a large dirt road connecting patches of jungle to three- or four-hut villages. After walking for a bit, my colleague’s city demeanor, and my whiteness attracted considerable attention, and a group of men with their hunting gear (spears, machetes, shoulder bags, and flip-flops) feel in easy stride along with us, grinning, talking animatedly, and generally keeping pace. My colleague understood the local dialect a little bit, since his mother was from the area.
He started translating what they were saying:
“She’s probably scared of us. She probably thinks we are so uncivilized. Has she ever seen black skin before?”
After 5 minutes of chatter, my colleague answered in their language:
“Actually, you may not know this, but Condoleezza Rice, a black woman, is Secretary of State; and Colin Powell has a high position in the Government as well. There is a large population of black Americans there.”
I was floored that he knew my Government so intimately. I couldn’t have answered as well.
Slavery
A nun who happened to be a nurse, asked me whether I had interacted with a lot of black people in my life. I laughed a little, telling her that there is a large population of minorities in America, including African-Americans, Asians, and Latinos. She was surprised, and asked me why so many Africans ended up in the United States? Did they immigrate there in a large numbers?
I answered that yes, there are quite a few recent immigrants, but really, it was largely due to slavery. Africans were brought in during the 1700 and 1800s as slave laborers.
While obliviously delivering my snapshot of U.S. history, her stern face quickly jerked back like I had slapped her with a leather glove before a duel. She was obviously shocked and dismayed by this fact, and was reacting physically to the notion.
Embarrassed and sheepish, realizing that she had idea about the existence of slavery in the United States, I fervently wished I had lied or said nothing at all. She avoided me for the rest of the day.
These are two little vignettes. They may seem inconsequential, but they have been in my mind for the last two days, and I can’t help reliving them. I am proud we elected a smart, capable, down to earth person to be president. The fact that he is black is icing on the cake.
November 05, 2008
November 04, 2008
U.S. Elections in Kenya
A friend who knows Kenya pretty well (coming from there, and having parents that still live there), gave me some interesting insight into the U.S. Election, as seen from Kenya*:
Some info you might find funny:
Obama is from the western Luo region; and that's where Kenya's current PM (Odinga) comes from. He (Odinga) won the Presidency in the last election, but the incumbents decided to plunge the country into violence instead of letting him win. That's why Kenya has a power-sharing agreement and a new PM position.
Previous regimes in Kenya have persecuted the Luo and assasinated every politician that even had the slimmest of chances of becoming a national leader over the years. They even tried to assassinate Odinga before the last election, unsurprisingly.
Anyways, this little enclave of persecuted people now have claim to the PM position in Kenya for the first time; and now, they see themselves as being on the verge of 'claiming' the U.S. Presidency. Which is making them go cuckoo... Apparently most people in Kenya only watch CNN now because it has better Obama coverage than Al Jazeera; which used to be number one...
This election is closely followed in Kenya and abroad. Super exciting!
*Note: This is obviously a personal account of the situation and not terribly objective.
Téléchargez le nouveau Windows Live Messenger ! Téléchargez Messenger, c'est gratuit !
Some info you might find funny:
Obama is from the western Luo region; and that's where Kenya's current PM (Odinga) comes from. He (Odinga) won the Presidency in the last election, but the incumbents decided to plunge the country into violence instead of letting him win. That's why Kenya has a power-sharing agreement and a new PM position.
Previous regimes in Kenya have persecuted the Luo and assasinated every politician that even had the slimmest of chances of becoming a national leader over the years. They even tried to assassinate Odinga before the last election, unsurprisingly.
Anyways, this little enclave of persecuted people now have claim to the PM position in Kenya for the first time; and now, they see themselves as being on the verge of 'claiming' the U.S. Presidency. Which is making them go cuckoo... Apparently most people in Kenya only watch CNN now because it has better Obama coverage than Al Jazeera; which used to be number one...
This election is closely followed in Kenya and abroad. Super exciting!
*Note: This is obviously a personal account of the situation and not terribly objective.
Téléchargez le nouveau Windows Live Messenger ! Téléchargez Messenger, c'est gratuit !
The deed is done
Cool poster on one of the restaurants in U Street
Alright, so I left the polling station at 9:50 a.m. which means that a) I'm really late for work, and b) it took me 1.5 hours to get through the line.
Which is crazy because D.C. has tons of polling stations. Guess they're going to have to open up another one in Columbia Heights for the next elections.
It was crowded inside especially when someone with a stroller or in a wheelchair would walk up to the front of the line. They had my name on the list (big relief) and I picked up my voting card.
It's pretty simple to vote in D.C. All you have to do is connect the arrow next to your preferred candidate. The stations were flimsy and you couldn't lean on the table-tops too much or they would collapse.
A lot of people commented on the lack of privacy - imagine a round table, intersected into 4, with short walls (like a pizza with 4 equal parts). Anyone could walk right behind me and see my ballot.
I didn't care, but I could see why some would be bothered by it. Then you place your ballot in a white folder to hide it, and take it out again to slip it into an electronic machine that counts it immediately. Again, there's not much privacy as the ballots are huge and the machine slot pretty small so you have to carefully feed the ballot into it, leaving your fellow voters ample time to peak over.
I asked a voting official if my vote for the presidential candidate would be invalidated if I didn't vote for the other positions. Much to my relief, she said no. Thank God, because I really don't know the other names. I was also suprised to see two other Presidential-Vice-Presidential teams in addition to Obama-Biden and McCain-Palin on the ballot. I have no idea who they are.
I'm inside
I'm inside the station and it's a little chaotic. I love Columbia Heights!
People are selling cheap coffee and donuts for the homeless, two blind people with white canes are trailing a seeing person, an older lady is taking her time reading about the candidates on a chair. I'm in the B (last name) line! Ok gotta go vote now.
People are selling cheap coffee and donuts for the homeless, two blind people with white canes are trailing a seeing person, an older lady is taking her time reading about the candidates on a chair. I'm in the B (last name) line! Ok gotta go vote now.
Young Voters
I'm so close to the station, I could touch the door.
By the way, 95 percent of the people in line are between 25 and 35. Crazy.
Now, I'm touching the door. The guard on the inside is listening to a radio show where a preacher is commenting on Martin Luther King's famous speech. I'm pretty sure it's illegal since it would imply she's endorsing Obama. Oh well, this is D.C., so Obama's gonna win it regardless.
Yikes, people are fired up
So people are taking in line and this guy says he was there when the polling station opened up at 7:00 and the line was just as long. A girl countered that she moved her car this morning at 6:15 a.m. and the line *then* was just as long. Yikes.
The guy responded "I guess we got George Bush to thank for that". The girl asked how he was doing otherwise. He responded "good, except for the economy".
Wow, this election has gotten Americans talking about politics. Kind of exciting.
At least I can see the station now.
The guy responded "I guess we got George Bush to thank for that". The girl asked how he was doing otherwise. He responded "good, except for the economy".
Wow, this election has gotten Americans talking about politics. Kind of exciting.
At least I can see the station now.
Vote!
I had a late night yesterday because I went to Manassas, Virginia to watch the Obama rally.
Of course, he was electrifying, though his grandmother had passed away the night before, and the crowd was 50,000 to 100,000 people strong. There was this mass energy like I've never felt before, except for a crazy rock concert. I've honestly never seen so many people before. It felt almost a little cultish.
We triple parked, just to find a parking spot. Our car battery died, and so we had to leave the car behind and bum a ride with a friend (thanks Eric). It takes a special person to make me excited after 3 hours of driving in traffic, a ride that should have taken us 1 hour.
Anyways, having gone to bed a wee bit late (2:30 a.m.), I was not as early to the polls as I would have wished. Now, I'm standing at the corner of 14th and Irving, in a queue that is 3-blocks long at 8:30 a.m. Le sigh. But I'm so glad to vote!
October 28, 2008
The Obama-McCain Dance-Off!
Alright, OK, so you think you are intellectual and ready to vote because you've watched all three presidential and vice-presidential debates. Well I bet you didn't tune in when Obama and McCain had their Dance-Off.
Before you go to the polls on November 4, 2008, I would highly recommend you check this out to make a clear and informed decision.
Before you go to the polls on November 4, 2008, I would highly recommend you check this out to make a clear and informed decision.
October 24, 2008
My CraigsList Roomate
My friend produced a great short movie about his experiences with finding a roommate off of Craig's List. Check it out! By the way, he's the one with the knife...
October 21, 2008
Psycho Ex-Girlfriend
This is the latest email exchange between my sister and me:
From: 007's sister
To: 007 in Africa
Subject: This is unbelievably hilarious:
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/wdc/848306070.html
From: 007 in Africa
To: 007's sister
Re: This is unbelievably hilarious:
Oh. My. God. That is really frightening. I think I've actually done some of these things (like panicking when someone's cell phone battery goes dead).
Please, please, please let me not be that psycho ex-girlfriend. Let me be able to walk away with dignity when I need to.
Can I post this on my blog?
*****************************************************************
Why I'll be the Best 'Psycho' Ex-Girlfriend You've Ever Had!
Source: Best of Craig's List -->Washington D.C.-->Dupont Circle
Date: 2008-09-20, 12:46PM EDT
I know that all your ex-girlfriends are 'psychos.' I've heard all about them since hardly a day goes by that you don't make some eye-rolling reference to 'that crazy bitch' who practically ruined your life and then went off and married some successful 'douchebag' leaving you to troll local college bars in search of no-strings-attached ass while she enjoys quiet weekends at home with her new in-laws in Connecticut. That selfish, cunt.
I know that you don't think I could ever be as good of a 'psycho ex' as she was. But, I assure you. I can. I'll be such a raving lunatic nutcase - you won't even remember her when I'm through with you. Try me.
For starters - I am great in bed. Isn't that how all the 'crazy' ones start out? You'll meet me at some party through some friend of a friend of a friend who knows I have 'whacko' potential but will fail to mention this to the chain of people through whom we are introduced because...quite frankly, our friends don't really care enough about either of us to keep our best interests in mind. Alternatively, they *do* have our best interests in mind but know that our dramatic personalities and overwhelming egos are forces too powerful for even the most friendly, logical advice. Thus, they abort all attempts to keep us apart and allow us to get drunk and grope each other publicly, shaking their heads all the while because..this shit is gonna' blow up big time.
Meantime, we'll already be upstairs, half undressed where you'll be too drunk to censor yourself so you'll make overly generous blubbering commentary about how 'sexy' I am (as I knock into a table lamp with swanlike grace). You'll also rave on and on about how I have the greatest tits you've ever seen and am 'fucking amazing' on all other fronts (as if I didn't know). Compared to the four other chicks you've banged, this will be the best sex of your life. And as soon as we're done, you'll start forming a mental list of which buddies you are going to text message first about this while at the same time wondering if you could possibly spend the rest of your life with me.
In the sobering light of morning, you'll forget that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me and instead opt for a "two-night stand" but you'll quickly realize that I am having none of that and somehow weasle my way into staying over, cooking breakfast and reading your newspaper. I will also have conveniently brought my toothbrush and some sanitary products which I quickly store in your bathroom cabinets since 'I'm going to be spending a lot of time at your place.' Your Maxim magazines will go from the top of the toilet to the bottom of the wastebasket because I find them 'offensive' and 'immature.'
Later that day, you'll log onto Facebook and find out that I'm 'in a relationship'...with you. Yay! At first, you'll think it's creepy but then (due to your inferiority complex) you'll take it as a compliment and change your relationship status too.
Within an hour, you'll receive 57 new notifications which indicate that I've commented on every photo in your album in which you appear with an unidentified female. Your relationships with these family members, college friends and co-workers will quickly disintegrate as you mistake my obsession for passion and declare your undying commitment to me and stop returning other people's calls.
Friends will caution you but you'll be too blinded by my mind-blowing felatio technique to notice anything. Besides, I've explained that they're just jealous of our love. Together, our poor self images will have us each convinced that the other is cheating. We'll fight about it all the time. Non-stop.
On our 'good days' we'll shower each other with undeserved gifts and sexual favors and the accusatory banter will be minimal - though still prevalent.
Things will be going 'pretty well' for a while until one night your phone battery dies and you fall asleep early - forcing me into an incoherent panic. Six unreturned voicemails and text messages will lead me to believe only the worst - you ARE cheating on me! To confirm my suspicions, I will immediately log into all your personal accounts - since you are so technologically oblivious you left your passwords saved on my computer - and find a message to be mad about. It will likely be a harmless flirtation from a platonic friend who lives six states away that pushes me over the edge.
Unable to reach her or you - I will scramble into my car and drive barefoot to your apartment where I will ride up on the curb knocking over an unsuspecting potted plant. The commotion outside will rouse you from your slumber and you'll stumble bleary- eyed to the window just in time to see me throw the car in reverse and plow into your beloved Huyndai Elantra.
In short order, the police will come, I will cry, you will shout, your landlord will evict you and your insurance company will drop you. On the bright side, our names will be forever emblazoned together onto a county police report.
Despite all this, it will take another several months for you to come to your senses and break-up with me. Knowing that I am a ticking bomb, you will execute this in the kindest, most reasonable way possible. You will make every effort to lift my spirits by explaning that "It's not you, it's me." and that "I deserve someone better."
All this, to no avail. The only way you can truly be rid of me is to change your phone number and move across the country where you'll make new friends and find a new insecure girlfriend to emotionally abuse for months until she finally reaches her psychological breaking point and throws a wine glass at you and storms out of a restaurant.
Everyone will be looking at you, dripping in Pinot Noir with an astonished look on your face. In your head you'll be thinking, "Ha. That was nothing. You should see my Huyndai Elantra." And, that, is why I'll be the best psycho ex-girlfriend you've ever had.
From: 007's sister
To: 007 in Africa
Subject: This is unbelievably hilarious:
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/wdc/848306070.html
From: 007 in Africa
To: 007's sister
Re: This is unbelievably hilarious:
Oh. My. God. That is really frightening. I think I've actually done some of these things (like panicking when someone's cell phone battery goes dead).
Please, please, please let me not be that psycho ex-girlfriend. Let me be able to walk away with dignity when I need to.
Can I post this on my blog?
*****************************************************************
Why I'll be the Best 'Psycho' Ex-Girlfriend You've Ever Had!
Source: Best of Craig's List -->Washington D.C.-->Dupont Circle
Date: 2008-09-20, 12:46PM EDT
I know that all your ex-girlfriends are 'psychos.' I've heard all about them since hardly a day goes by that you don't make some eye-rolling reference to 'that crazy bitch' who practically ruined your life and then went off and married some successful 'douchebag' leaving you to troll local college bars in search of no-strings-attached ass while she enjoys quiet weekends at home with her new in-laws in Connecticut. That selfish, cunt.
I know that you don't think I could ever be as good of a 'psycho ex' as she was. But, I assure you. I can. I'll be such a raving lunatic nutcase - you won't even remember her when I'm through with you. Try me.
For starters - I am great in bed. Isn't that how all the 'crazy' ones start out? You'll meet me at some party through some friend of a friend of a friend who knows I have 'whacko' potential but will fail to mention this to the chain of people through whom we are introduced because...quite frankly, our friends don't really care enough about either of us to keep our best interests in mind. Alternatively, they *do* have our best interests in mind but know that our dramatic personalities and overwhelming egos are forces too powerful for even the most friendly, logical advice. Thus, they abort all attempts to keep us apart and allow us to get drunk and grope each other publicly, shaking their heads all the while because..this shit is gonna' blow up big time.
Meantime, we'll already be upstairs, half undressed where you'll be too drunk to censor yourself so you'll make overly generous blubbering commentary about how 'sexy' I am (as I knock into a table lamp with swanlike grace). You'll also rave on and on about how I have the greatest tits you've ever seen and am 'fucking amazing' on all other fronts (as if I didn't know). Compared to the four other chicks you've banged, this will be the best sex of your life. And as soon as we're done, you'll start forming a mental list of which buddies you are going to text message first about this while at the same time wondering if you could possibly spend the rest of your life with me.
In the sobering light of morning, you'll forget that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me and instead opt for a "two-night stand" but you'll quickly realize that I am having none of that and somehow weasle my way into staying over, cooking breakfast and reading your newspaper. I will also have conveniently brought my toothbrush and some sanitary products which I quickly store in your bathroom cabinets since 'I'm going to be spending a lot of time at your place.' Your Maxim magazines will go from the top of the toilet to the bottom of the wastebasket because I find them 'offensive' and 'immature.'
Later that day, you'll log onto Facebook and find out that I'm 'in a relationship'...with you. Yay! At first, you'll think it's creepy but then (due to your inferiority complex) you'll take it as a compliment and change your relationship status too.
Within an hour, you'll receive 57 new notifications which indicate that I've commented on every photo in your album in which you appear with an unidentified female. Your relationships with these family members, college friends and co-workers will quickly disintegrate as you mistake my obsession for passion and declare your undying commitment to me and stop returning other people's calls.
Friends will caution you but you'll be too blinded by my mind-blowing felatio technique to notice anything. Besides, I've explained that they're just jealous of our love. Together, our poor self images will have us each convinced that the other is cheating. We'll fight about it all the time. Non-stop.
On our 'good days' we'll shower each other with undeserved gifts and sexual favors and the accusatory banter will be minimal - though still prevalent.
Things will be going 'pretty well' for a while until one night your phone battery dies and you fall asleep early - forcing me into an incoherent panic. Six unreturned voicemails and text messages will lead me to believe only the worst - you ARE cheating on me! To confirm my suspicions, I will immediately log into all your personal accounts - since you are so technologically oblivious you left your passwords saved on my computer - and find a message to be mad about. It will likely be a harmless flirtation from a platonic friend who lives six states away that pushes me over the edge.
Unable to reach her or you - I will scramble into my car and drive barefoot to your apartment where I will ride up on the curb knocking over an unsuspecting potted plant. The commotion outside will rouse you from your slumber and you'll stumble bleary- eyed to the window just in time to see me throw the car in reverse and plow into your beloved Huyndai Elantra.
In short order, the police will come, I will cry, you will shout, your landlord will evict you and your insurance company will drop you. On the bright side, our names will be forever emblazoned together onto a county police report.
Despite all this, it will take another several months for you to come to your senses and break-up with me. Knowing that I am a ticking bomb, you will execute this in the kindest, most reasonable way possible. You will make every effort to lift my spirits by explaning that "It's not you, it's me." and that "I deserve someone better."
All this, to no avail. The only way you can truly be rid of me is to change your phone number and move across the country where you'll make new friends and find a new insecure girlfriend to emotionally abuse for months until she finally reaches her psychological breaking point and throws a wine glass at you and storms out of a restaurant.
Everyone will be looking at you, dripping in Pinot Noir with an astonished look on your face. In your head you'll be thinking, "Ha. That was nothing. You should see my Huyndai Elantra." And, that, is why I'll be the best psycho ex-girlfriend you've ever had.
October 16, 2008
I got quoted in a news article!
Yesterday, we went to a restaurant in Virginia called Summers Grill and Sports Bar to watch the last of the presidential debates between Mr. Obama and Mr. McCain.
It was kind of cool because one half of the restaurant was reserved for Republican, and the other for Democrats. Independent voters were scattered here and there but mainly over the bar on the Republican side, drinking their sorrows away.
My side was watching CNN, while the Republican side was glued to Fox News. Anyways, it was an interesting experience. But instead of retelling the tale, I will post an article, as written in Spanish, by a friend of mine.
He even quoted me!
As anticipated, at the end of the party, the fans did not agree in the winner. "McCain and Joe the Plumber are winners" , it affirms Michael Calsetta, a retired private consultant in a leather jacket in which reads “Another for Democrat McCain". [007 in Africa], a thirty year old young adult who works for the Ministry of Health, differs: "Obama has won. He was more eloquent, and specific". However, they both agree on something: it is not over. " In spite of the polls, I am not confident [he will win], because this country has a history of making blunders " , Dorothee confesses.
*******************************************************************
A day later... Here is the full article:
Un derby electoral en Arlington Ricard González
Washington.-Joe Javidara, el propietario del bar de deportes Summers Grill, decidió que su establecimiento cambiara de eje temático ayer por la noche. En lugar de ofrecer el Argentina-Chile, como habría hecho habitualmente, prefirió que la veintena de televisores de su bar sintonizaran el debate presidencial. De hecho, el espectáculo no fue tan diferente, pues tanto las rencillas entre demócratas y republicanos, como entre chilenos y argentinos son históricas.
Según los camareros del bar, Joe no se equivocó, y se llenó la caja. Ahora bien, no tanto como en el debate de los vicepresidentes, cuando el bar estuvo a rebosar.
Como en los grandes derbys, se habilitó una de las dos grandes salas para los seguidores cada equipo. Ambas salas son simétricas, pero había una importante diferencia ayer. La republicana siguió el debate por la cadena de televisión Fox News, y la demócrata por la CNN. Y es que nada fastidia tanto como seguir un derby con un locutor con comentarios sesgados a favor del equipo rival.
En teoría, en el Summers Grill debería predominar la hinchada demócrata, pues está situada en Arlington, un suburbio de Washington DC en el que los demócratas necesitan vapulear a McCain para imponerse en Virginia. No obstante, sorprendentemente, en los cristales del bar sólo hay carteles de "McCain-Palin 2008". Encima, la sala republicana parece estar más concurrida que la demócrata. Mal augurio para Obama.
Más allá de algunas camisetas y pins, no existían grandes diferencias en las apariencias de ambas hinchadas. Predominan los jóvenes entre 20 y 30 años, con atuendo informal. Sin embargo, mientras hay un silencio sepulcral entre los republicanos, en la sala hay un ambiente más festivo. Se jalea a Obama cuando hace alguna internada por la banda izquierda, y se silban los disparos de McCain.
Quizás el contraste se debe a la moral de unos y otros. O al hecho de que muchos demócratas están sentados en mesas de unas diez personas, mientras los republicanos miran el partido solos, o en parejas. Será un reflejo de los instintos individualistas, o bien colectivistas de cada grupo?
Como era de esperar, al final del partido, las hinchadas no coincidieron en el ganador. "McCain y Joe el lampista son los ganadores", afirma Michael Calsetta, un consultor privado ya jubilado enfundado en una chaqueta de cuero en la que se lee "Another Democrat for McCain". [007 in Africa], una joven de treinta años que trabaja para el Ministerio de Salud, discrepa: "Obama ha ganado. Ha sido más elocuente, y espcífico". En cambio, ambos sí coinciden en algo: aún falta mucha liga. "A pesar de las encuestas, no estoy tranquila, porque este país tiene un historial rciente de de errores garrafales", confiesa [007].
El bar se vacía rápidamente tras la contienda. Massa, una periodista china está decepcionada. No ha encontrado ningún republicano de corazón. Parece que la sala republicana estaba llena de independientes que acabarán votando Obama. Así pues, el demócrata también ganó la batalla del Summers Grill.
It was kind of cool because one half of the restaurant was reserved for Republican, and the other for Democrats. Independent voters were scattered here and there but mainly over the bar on the Republican side, drinking their sorrows away.
My side was watching CNN, while the Republican side was glued to Fox News. Anyways, it was an interesting experience. But instead of retelling the tale, I will post an article, as written in Spanish, by a friend of mine.
He even quoted me!
As anticipated, at the end of the party, the fans did not agree in the winner. "McCain and Joe the Plumber are winners" , it affirms Michael Calsetta, a retired private consultant in a leather jacket in which reads “Another for Democrat McCain". [007 in Africa], a thirty year old young adult who works for the Ministry of Health, differs: "Obama has won. He was more eloquent, and specific". However, they both agree on something: it is not over. " In spite of the polls, I am not confident [he will win], because this country has a history of making blunders " , Dorothee confesses.
*******************************************************************
A day later... Here is the full article:
Un derby electoral en Arlington Ricard González
Washington.-Joe Javidara, el propietario del bar de deportes Summers Grill, decidió que su establecimiento cambiara de eje temático ayer por la noche. En lugar de ofrecer el Argentina-Chile, como habría hecho habitualmente, prefirió que la veintena de televisores de su bar sintonizaran el debate presidencial. De hecho, el espectáculo no fue tan diferente, pues tanto las rencillas entre demócratas y republicanos, como entre chilenos y argentinos son históricas.
Según los camareros del bar, Joe no se equivocó, y se llenó la caja. Ahora bien, no tanto como en el debate de los vicepresidentes, cuando el bar estuvo a rebosar.
Como en los grandes derbys, se habilitó una de las dos grandes salas para los seguidores cada equipo. Ambas salas son simétricas, pero había una importante diferencia ayer. La republicana siguió el debate por la cadena de televisión Fox News, y la demócrata por la CNN. Y es que nada fastidia tanto como seguir un derby con un locutor con comentarios sesgados a favor del equipo rival.
En teoría, en el Summers Grill debería predominar la hinchada demócrata, pues está situada en Arlington, un suburbio de Washington DC en el que los demócratas necesitan vapulear a McCain para imponerse en Virginia. No obstante, sorprendentemente, en los cristales del bar sólo hay carteles de "McCain-Palin 2008". Encima, la sala republicana parece estar más concurrida que la demócrata. Mal augurio para Obama.
Más allá de algunas camisetas y pins, no existían grandes diferencias en las apariencias de ambas hinchadas. Predominan los jóvenes entre 20 y 30 años, con atuendo informal. Sin embargo, mientras hay un silencio sepulcral entre los republicanos, en la sala hay un ambiente más festivo. Se jalea a Obama cuando hace alguna internada por la banda izquierda, y se silban los disparos de McCain.
Quizás el contraste se debe a la moral de unos y otros. O al hecho de que muchos demócratas están sentados en mesas de unas diez personas, mientras los republicanos miran el partido solos, o en parejas. Será un reflejo de los instintos individualistas, o bien colectivistas de cada grupo?
Como era de esperar, al final del partido, las hinchadas no coincidieron en el ganador. "McCain y Joe el lampista son los ganadores", afirma Michael Calsetta, un consultor privado ya jubilado enfundado en una chaqueta de cuero en la que se lee "Another Democrat for McCain". [007 in Africa], una joven de treinta años que trabaja para el Ministerio de Salud, discrepa: "Obama ha ganado. Ha sido más elocuente, y espcífico". En cambio, ambos sí coinciden en algo: aún falta mucha liga. "A pesar de las encuestas, no estoy tranquila, porque este país tiene un historial rciente de de errores garrafales", confiesa [007].
El bar se vacía rápidamente tras la contienda. Massa, una periodista china está decepcionada. No ha encontrado ningún republicano de corazón. Parece que la sala republicana estaba llena de independientes que acabarán votando Obama. Así pues, el demócrata también ganó la batalla del Summers Grill.
I mean really, how can you not know who to choose? Just look at them!
October 01, 2008
Something Artistic
I am itching to do something more artistic in my life. I am a big fan of graphic novels and wish I could draw so I could write a novel of my experiences abroad. It's a little narcissistic I know, but it would be fun nonetheless.
One of my favorite novels is Fun Home a graphic novel by Alison Bechdel. In it, she recalls her childhood in a large, Victorian house, with a father that, in hindsight, was probably trying hard to deny his homosexuality. It's a really great story, with a lot of interesting and insightful references to literature. I highly recommend it.
One of my favorite novels is Fun Home a graphic novel by Alison Bechdel. In it, she recalls her childhood in a large, Victorian house, with a father that, in hindsight, was probably trying hard to deny his homosexuality. It's a really great story, with a lot of interesting and insightful references to literature. I highly recommend it.
Enjoy in a book store near you...
PS: If you're looking for good stories for your graphic novel, write me!
September 24, 2008
Barong Tagalog
My barong kind of looks like this but more feminineI found a great website on the Barong. Here is more information on the national dress of the Philippines.
There’s really something about the Barong Tagalog that appeals to unassuming, low-key personalities with a penchant for subtle elegance. [...]
HOW PINA FABRIC IS MADE
Ever wondered what makes the pina fabric so expensive? Here’s an eye-opener on how much tedious work comes with every meter of this elegant craft.
-The Spanish Red or Native Philippine Red, the kind that has leaves spanning an average of 2 meters in length, takes about one and a half years to mature. As soon as the fruit is just about ripe, the leaves are likewise ready for harvesting.
-The leaves are snapped off the plant with a sharp tug on the tip and the thorny edges are pulled off.
-During extraction, which could be as long as three days, the workers squat on a long board where the leaves are placed. The leaves are then scraped using a broken china plate. (Some suggest the use of antique porcelain to be the best). This is done by folding over a few inches of the leaf base and striking it with the heel of the hands to reveal the first set of fibres called bastos or coarse fibres. These are extracted and set aside.
-The leaf is then scraped once more with a coconut shell to bring out a finer fibre called the linawan. This, too, is extracted and set aside.
-An average pineapple leaf could produce 75% of the coarse or Bastos fibre and 25% of the finer linawan fibre.
[...]
-When the extractors come to scrape a quantity of about 1,000 leaves, the bundles of fibres are washed, usually at a nearby stream. It is scraped again gently with the use of a seashell to remove remaining unwanted impurities making the strands whiter in appearance.
-The strands are then partially sun-dried on the grass and beaten with a bamboo stick to separate the fibres.
-It is then hung on a line to dry, combed and tied upside-down to a slim bamboo pole for knotting.
-The ends are cut off with a sharp piece of bamboo and the threads are coiled around a clay pot. The pot is placed with sand to prevent tangles. The fibres are then taken to traders for weighing.
-A loom made of coco lumber with bamboo foot treadles are used to weave the fabric. The thread is coiled on cylindrical frames and the thread for weft is wound on bobbins made out of small pieces of bamboo.
-The average production of a weaver is about half a meter/day. The process is painstakingly slow and broken threads need constant knotting.
-After weaving, the off-white colored cloth with a rather smoky smell is washed with rice water or citrus juice.
-The cloth is then sent out for embroidery.
To sum up, the whole process from leaf plucking to the finished woven cloth, would take about four months of continuous work to produce only about 20 meters of the precious fabric. That’s why several attempts have been made to develop a machine that would do the work but the thread being so fine and prone to breaking made this impossible.
STEPS IN BARONG TAGALOG EMBROIDERY
Much as the pina fabric is tediously woven for that elegant texture, the embroidery is done with an equally delicate and painstaking process. The old-world craft has been handed down from generation to generation and have evolved to adapt to the times. However, the innate skill remains intact and the subtle elegance is preserved.
-First, embroidery pattern is chalked on the cloth
-The cloth is stretched using a round or rectangular frame called bastador.
-With the cloth ready for embroidery, they proceed with using a variety of thread from white or colored, cotton, silk, or pina.
-After embroidery is done, they are lightly stretched between two rectangular frames and cleaned from the underside using a washcloth and detergent.
-After drying, the cloth is ironed before delivery to contractors.
Wow, it does sound like a painstaking process! There is one pararagraph that distress me to no end though:
Barong Tagalog Care Tips:
-Do not dry clean it. It contains chemicals that may make the Barong Tagalog brittle and therefore shorten its life span.
-Using washing machine for Barong Tagalog is a crime.
Hand washing is still the best way to clean the barong. When washing Barong Tagalog made of Jusi or Pina, one mixes a calculated amount of detergent with water and mixes it thoroughly until the detergent is completely dissolved in the basin. Then soak the Barong Tagalog on one whole day or do it overnight. After this step, use a soft brittle toothbrush with a tiny amount of detergent to brush off the stubborn dirt on the Barong Tagalog especially on collar, underneath the cuffs, arm holes, etc. and then rinses it with an upward and downward motion on water. However, hand-embroidered Barong Tagalog should not be scrubbed. A cardinal rule when one rinses the Barong Tagalog, one does not squeeze nor twist the fabric. Drip it dry by laying it flat so it will not create too much crease. The less sunlight for the Barong Tagalog , the better to avoid discoloration. One must iron the Barong Tagalog while it is still damp in a moderate heat to retain its original shape.
You have to be kidding right? This is wrong piece of clothing to give to someone who throw in her darks and her lights in a hot washing machine, and stuffs dry-clean only item in there as an after-thought.
I am in the Philippines
I am probably the world's worst blogger with the best adventures to talk about. My job has me pretty beat so I'm not really good about updating this blog. Though it causes me a large amount of anxiety to talk about my travels out of order (after all, I still haven't finished my blog on Timbuktu, or started the one on the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands), I will have to give you some information on the country I am in now.
I am in the Philippines, and came here via Detroit and Tokyo. Having just come back from a 25-hour flight from the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (or CNMI in short-form) via Detroit, Hawaii and Guam, I was told by the office to turn right back around the attend an important meeting in Manila, Philippines. I'm all for frequent flying miles, but having to sit on another 20-some hours of airplane rides is plain ridiculous. And I hate turbulence.
Manila is pretty cool: it's a city full of little streets, loud beeping cars, odd-looking metal buses, bike-taxis, SUV, sea and palms lining the boulevards, dirty water trailing along the side walks, and Japanese, Italian, French, and Chinese restaurants everywhere. People crowd the parking lots and small parks that offer a little bit of space to play badmington on weekends. It's a cross between the busy-ness of Japan, and the grittiness of Bamako. A sort of dirty blade runner.
I am attending meeting attended by a number of countries from Asia and the Pacific, such as Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, Japan, but also small islands like Tuvalu, Nauru and a bunch of others you've never heard about (no offense, but my French school never taught me about the difference between American Samoa and Samoa).
Meeting organizers gave us gifts of barong tagalog (pronounced BAH-rong tah-GAH-lawg), a traditional, embroidered, transparent outer shirt. It has collars, mid-length sleeves and mid-thigh horizontal hemline with side slits. It is made from pina (pineapple fibers), jusi (raw silk) or ramie (grass fibers). Very awesome. I can't wait to wear it, no matter that it's unsuited for the dark suits and conservative suits of Washington D.C.
I am in the Philippines, and came here via Detroit and Tokyo. Having just come back from a 25-hour flight from the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (or CNMI in short-form) via Detroit, Hawaii and Guam, I was told by the office to turn right back around the attend an important meeting in Manila, Philippines. I'm all for frequent flying miles, but having to sit on another 20-some hours of airplane rides is plain ridiculous. And I hate turbulence.
Manila is pretty cool: it's a city full of little streets, loud beeping cars, odd-looking metal buses, bike-taxis, SUV, sea and palms lining the boulevards, dirty water trailing along the side walks, and Japanese, Italian, French, and Chinese restaurants everywhere. People crowd the parking lots and small parks that offer a little bit of space to play badmington on weekends. It's a cross between the busy-ness of Japan, and the grittiness of Bamako. A sort of dirty blade runner.
I am attending meeting attended by a number of countries from Asia and the Pacific, such as Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, Japan, but also small islands like Tuvalu, Nauru and a bunch of others you've never heard about (no offense, but my French school never taught me about the difference between American Samoa and Samoa).
Meeting organizers gave us gifts of barong tagalog (pronounced BAH-rong tah-GAH-lawg), a traditional, embroidered, transparent outer shirt. It has collars, mid-length sleeves and mid-thigh horizontal hemline with side slits. It is made from pina (pineapple fibers), jusi (raw silk) or ramie (grass fibers). Very awesome. I can't wait to wear it, no matter that it's unsuited for the dark suits and conservative suits of Washington D.C.
September 02, 2008
Getting there is half the work - Saipan
I am going to Saipan to lead a Summit on Diabetes for 120 Pacific and federal participants. While it's going to be a lot of work, I feel like the trip there and back is half the battle:
Washington DC - Houston - 3 hours, 10 minutes
Houston - Honolulu - 8 hours, 10 minutes
Honolulu - Guam - 7 hours, 40 minutes
Guam - Saipan (in the Northern Mariana Islands) - 50 minutes.
I thought I was finally getting over my fear of flights (I only pray 3 or 4 times in an 8 hours flight instead of 20 times), but I feel asleep and dreamt we were crashing into the beautiful Hawaii ocean. We were crashing at low speed and really close to the coast so I was hoping that there would be a lot of survivors, me amongst them...I also just checked my email, and a friend from Congo wrote a quick mass email to reassure us that he was not part of the flight full of people going to Bukavu that just crashed. Yikes!
Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI)
The Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (or CNMI for short) is a small island nation in the South Pacific. It consists of 14 islands, three of which are the main inhabited ones: Saipan, Tinian, and Rota. It is a U.S. territory, and as such, benefits from a number of U.S. services, much like a State would.
You may not know it, but it was an important area during the second World War. From the U.S. Department of the Interior, here is a little bit more on its history:
The first people to come to the Marianas arrived over 3500 years ago, probably from Southeast Asia through the Philippines. The ancient people evolved into Chamorro people. The first European to arrive in these islands was the Portuguese navigator, Ferdinand Magellan, who came to Guam and Rota in 1521 during his circumnavigation of the world in an attempt to find a route across the Pacific. Spain took possession of the archipelago in 1565 and ruled it for more than 300 years. The first permanent Spanish colony was established in 1668. Spain ceded Guam to the United States following the Spanish-American War, then sold the Northern Mariana Islands to Germany in 1899. Germany acquired these islands primarily to increase their international prestige. German economic development was based on the copra industry. Japan took control of the Northern Mariana Islands in 1914, the first year of World War I. By ratification of the League of Nations in 1920, Japan received a mandate over the islands. This mandate lasted until 1945 with 30,000 Japanese nationals residing on Saipan. The Japanese developed the island largely for sugar production and processing. World War II came to the Marianas in 1941. Major American battles occurred in the Northern Marianas in 1944, including the pivotal Marianas campaign which signaled the end of the War in the Pacific. The Emperor of Japan surrendered to the Allied Forces on August 15, 1945, ending World War II, and a U.S. military government was instituted in the Northern Mariana Islands.
Saipan’s main attractions are snorkeling, and various sites of war. When the Japanese knew the American would come to the Island and win the war for example, a lot of them jumped off the highest cliff in Saipan, now renamed “suicide cliff”. It now harbors a number of bats that hang in its carved out caves. Snorkeling is great too since they are old sunken ships and tanks surrounded by plant life and fish.
View from Manahaga Island, a small piece of land off the coast of Saipan
A sunken Japanese Ship of the coast of Manahaga Island
View of the Ship from Afar - a rusted hull pokes out from the light green water
There are island cats everwhere. A little undernourished but cute nonetheless.
A downed tank along the shore
Amazing grotto with shallow diving and plant roots hanging from its ceiling
Typical palm tree. Just to make you jealous.
Saipan is also a great lover of Betelnut. While in Saipan, I was perplexed to see tons of signs about Betelnut saying "absolutely no betelnut spitting" or "betelenuts and cell phones no allowed beyond this point". So of course, I had to find me some betelnut, from the corner store.
From my trusty old wikipedia friend, this is what I know about the betelnut:
The Areca nut is the seed of the Areca palm, a straight and graceful palm tree growing in most tropical countries. […] It is commercially available in dried, cured and fresh forms. While fresh, the husk is green and the nut inside is so soft that it can easily be cut with an average knife. In the ripe fruit the husk becomes yellow or orange and, as it dries, the fruit inside hardens to a wood-like consistency. […] Usually a few slices of the nut are wrapped in a Betel leaf along with lime and may include clove, cardamom, catechu (kattha), etc. for extra flavouring. Betel leaf has a fresh, peppery taste, but it can be bitter depending on the variety.
Areca nuts are chewed with betel leaf for their effects as a mild stimulant, causing a hot sensation in the body, heightened alertness and sweating, although the effects vary from person to person. The areca nut contains tannin, gallic acid, a fixed oil gum, a little terpineol, lignin, various saline substances and three main alkaloids, which have vasocontricting properties. Many chewers also add small pieces of tobacco leaf to the mixture, thereby adding the effect of the nicotine, which causes greater addiction than the drugs contained in the nut and the betel. The effect of chewing betel nut is relatively mild and could be compared to drinking a strong cup of coffee.
Areca nuts are chewed with betel leaf for their effects as a mild stimulant, causing a hot sensation in the body, heightened alertness and sweating, although the effects vary from person to person. The areca nut contains tannin, gallic acid, a fixed oil gum, a little terpineol, lignin, various saline substances and three main alkaloids, which have vasocontricting properties. Many chewers also add small pieces of tobacco leaf to the mixture, thereby adding the effect of the nicotine, which causes greater addiction than the drugs contained in the nut and the betel. The effect of chewing betel nut is relatively mild and could be compared to drinking a strong cup of coffee.
Steps to Enjoying Betelnuts:
1-Gather all the equipment
This is: a ripe betelnut, a leaf, and some lye.
This is: a ripe betelnut, a leaf, and some lye.
2-Chew the betelnut in two to expose it's soft, pink interior
3-Use a toothpick to spread a little bit of lye on the interior (warning: lye is a corrosive substance, often used in biodiesel preparation or as an oven cleaner or drain opener)
4-Wrap the whole thing up in the leaf
5-Chew, and spit profusely. Ensure that your red saliva stains the walls and floors of major public places. As in my case, you can follow up with feeling nauseous, and almost throwing up.
3-Use a toothpick to spread a little bit of lye on the interior (warning: lye is a corrosive substance, often used in biodiesel preparation or as an oven cleaner or drain opener)
4-Wrap the whole thing up in the leaf
5-Chew, and spit profusely. Ensure that your red saliva stains the walls and floors of major public places. As in my case, you can follow up with feeling nauseous, and almost throwing up.
August 05, 2008
This is very exciting news about the Congo...for once!
More than 100,000 rare gorillas found in Congo
Source
An estimated 125,000 Western lowland gorillas are living in a swamp in equatorial
'It
The last census on the species, carried out during the 1980s, estimated that there were only 100,000 of the gorillas left worldwide. Since then, the researchers estimated, the numbers had been cut in half.
WCS survey teams conducted the research in 2006 and 2007, traveling to the remote Lac Tele Community Reserve in northern
Acting on a tip from hunters who indicated the presence of gorillas, Rainey said that the researchers trekked on foot through mud for three days to the outskirts of Lac Tele, about 80 kilometers (50 miles) from the nearest road.
'When we went there, we found an astonishing amount of gorillas,' said Rainey, speaking from the International Primatological Society Congress in
Though researchers did spot some gorillas, they based their estimate on the number of gorilla nests found at the site, Rainey said. Each gorilla makes a nest to sleep in at night.
'This is the highest-known density of gorillas that
Western lowland gorillas are listed as critically endangered, the highest threat category for a species. Their populations are declining rapidly because of hunting and diseases like Ebola hemorrhagic fever, whose symptoms include diarrhea, vomiting and internal and external bleeding.
While the discovery in northern
'We know very little about Ebola and how it spreads,' he said. 'We don
The goal now, Rainey said, is to work with the Congolese government and donors to protect the areas in which the gorillas are known to be living.
[…]
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