Friday, September 24, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
monopoly
Last night, a couple of comrades came over, decided to stay a night as they were making their way to Montreal. Arriving late, I had dinner made and ready to eat, the wine opened, breathing, and sipping on a little of it myself. After dinner, we busted out Monopoly!, a game most everyone enjoys (except myself.) Over rolling dice and mortgaged homes, we talked about more important things like what the couple planned to do in Montreal, where they were staying, when they were coming back. They reminded us that this trip was not for business or pleasure, but necessity. They were headed east in search of something: semi-privatized healthcare.
The husband of the pair is a British citizen married to a Canadian. He has been having knee problems since their engagement, just over a year ago, and surgery after surgery, he still walks with crutches. Residing in Ontario has been relatively kind to the couple, except when it came down to medical attention. Because Ontario is on a public system, the husband cannot receive knee-surgery as he does not have an OHIP card. Instead, because healthcare is a provincial jurisdiction, he and his wife have to travel to Montreal, where, despite being a staunchly socialist province, it has private facilities to perform operations.
Now, I know it's dangerous to say, but it's just something to think about. Personally, I think universal healthcare should be accessible to everyone, no matter his or her income, nationality, beliefs, etc. If you have doctors around, someone's health should not come down to the petty details of tax-brackets and insurance payments. That being said, I know it is not the reality of things.
I find it irritating that, as Canadians, we take pride in our healthcare system -- we proudly proclaim, no one has to pay to see a doctor! Yet, we discriminate upon those that, not only can pay, but need to pay because they do not have Canadian citizenry. What is also frustrating is the bureaucracy of citizenship in this country. It is confusing and extensive. It has been close to a year that this couple has been married and the husband is still "going through the process". I have many migrating friends that have/had been in Canada for close to 15 years and were still considered landed-immigrants.
Having a coffee this morning at the Brazilian Bakery in Little Portugal, we got to talking about the diversity that Toronto offers, especially now that the World Cup is happening. The husband of the couple asked how many different cultures there are in the city, to which my answer was: 285, a random number I picked from the tip of my brain. The point is, there are a lot. It's what defines Toronto and builds its identity, makes it the most culturally beautiful place in the world.
And then, I think about the government and its lackadaisical approach to addressing immigration issues and the difficulty some must face in receiving healthcare. It seems as though politics has shifted from the people to the material -- essentially, the economy. I feel like political platforms used to be built upon core issues, deep-seeded problems that needed to be uprooted and changed. Right now, the focus is on the G20 and the harmonized sales tax (HST), two very superficial and fleeting issues when it comes to the bigger picture. These two controversies are minute, little bumps in the road to the progress of humanity, but are given a lot of attention because it distracts people from pervasive problems, like immigrants' access to necessary healthcare.
Like crows to a silver-spoon, we are caught up in the shininess of it all.
Although superficial developments are interesting to watch -- like quarreling lovers in the street -- we should maintain focus: to change things for the better, not for the instant. Rallying and protesting is good to get a message out there, some publicity to a voice, and, perhaps, to coerce a quick executive decision, but then what?
In reality, change is, and should be, a slow process. It's something that should not happen in an instant. Taking the time to enact change, through letters or secret meetings over monopoly or inspiring one another or creating contesting subject matter, is worth the effort.
However, the youth live in a time of "now", demanding for things to happen instantly. For example, when we need to find out information, we Google or Wikipedia it.
We require immediate satisfaction, yet we are creatures that are never sated.
Personally, satisfaction is a superficial sentiment. One can be satisfied with the way things are, but what about striving for something greater? This "greater" thing may not be realized in our lifetime, or ever, but one can still enjoy the pursuit of it, no? We may not ever see accessible, universal healthcare in the province of Ontario, but wouldn't it be nice if our great-grandchildren could?
Such were my thoughts over our cordial game of Monopoly!, the thoughts that may have distracted me from winning, made me the first one out. Either that or I am just a bad business owner. Probably the latter. Doesn't matter, there are other things on my mind.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
BAFICI: Jaffa, The Orange´s Clockwork
Despite the witty-title, this documentary about the demolition and evolution of the Jaffa Oranges in Palestine/Israel is heart-wrenching. I don´t know if it was using the orange-business as the symbolic/literal axis for dispute between the Palestinians and Israelis or whether it was the old, Palestinian orchard mechanic that began to weep in his interview, but this doc was simply powerful.
Most documentaries following the Middle-Eastern (referred to as the Oriental conflict in the film) have become cliché: Yes, we know about 1948, Zionism, atrocities, extermination, suicide-bombings, etc. These occurrences are devastating to the soul, but people stop paying attention to things that are on repeat. Jaffa, however, told a different side of the story.
It started with scenes of prosperous orange-orchards where Jews and Muslims worked side-by-side cultivating some of the most delicious citrus fruit in the World -- Queen Victoria could attest to it with her order of 3 boxes. After 1948, the life in Jaffa changed. With the Zionist Exodus came an inundation of Europeans, reclaiming land and orchards that had been owned and operated, by Muslims and Jews, for decades. Since the rise in the population, the port-town´s water supply could no longer support keep the people and the oranges hydrated. Most of the groves were levelled.
¨You just don´t do that to a land that you love,¨ said a Palestinian historian and writer.
And so it goes for many living in the divided and occupied territories. It´s something that must be seen with our own eyes to understand the devastating effects the occupation has had.
Not only was the film incredible and informative, the situation was surreal. It was being screened at the Abasto Shopping Centre, in the Jewish-barrio called Almagro in Buenos Aires. Over-generalizing, I thought there might be some scoffing, despite the films balance of Israeli and Palestinian intellectuals discussing the issue. Instead, at the end of the film, there was a round of applause.
Most documentaries following the Middle-Eastern (referred to as the Oriental conflict in the film) have become cliché: Yes, we know about 1948, Zionism, atrocities, extermination, suicide-bombings, etc. These occurrences are devastating to the soul, but people stop paying attention to things that are on repeat. Jaffa, however, told a different side of the story.
It started with scenes of prosperous orange-orchards where Jews and Muslims worked side-by-side cultivating some of the most delicious citrus fruit in the World -- Queen Victoria could attest to it with her order of 3 boxes. After 1948, the life in Jaffa changed. With the Zionist Exodus came an inundation of Europeans, reclaiming land and orchards that had been owned and operated, by Muslims and Jews, for decades. Since the rise in the population, the port-town´s water supply could no longer support keep the people and the oranges hydrated. Most of the groves were levelled.
¨You just don´t do that to a land that you love,¨ said a Palestinian historian and writer.
And so it goes for many living in the divided and occupied territories. It´s something that must be seen with our own eyes to understand the devastating effects the occupation has had.
Not only was the film incredible and informative, the situation was surreal. It was being screened at the Abasto Shopping Centre, in the Jewish-barrio called Almagro in Buenos Aires. Over-generalizing, I thought there might be some scoffing, despite the films balance of Israeli and Palestinian intellectuals discussing the issue. Instead, at the end of the film, there was a round of applause.
Monday, April 12, 2010
rogue
Watching X-Men: The Last Stand, I got very aggravated with the character Rogue. As a kid, growing up, she was my favourite. I wanted to be her: to have red-hair, to be able to fly, to absorb mutants´powers, to have her boyfriend (the Frenchie named Gambit), etc. She was a very strong character, torn by her past, frustrated by her present (as she could not touch anybody) and terrified of her future. She was tough on the outside, but tender on the inside. Hm, interesting.
Nevertheless, the third movie to the X-men trilogy was a disappointment in that Rogue, who from the get-go was poorly slated, chose the have a procedure so that she would lose her mutant power. I understand why her character did that -- everyone just wants to be loved -- but, really? At such a young age? Maybe Bobby would up and leave her for Kitty, leaving Rogue alone anyways.
It seems as though normalcy is what some people strive for today. Perhaps it´s because there are just too many people in the world for each one to be extraordinary. In the end, I guess what appears as normalcy is just that, superficial.
To me, every person I have ever met has had something extra-ordinary about them. Although some people are deceived, thrown off, by the appearance of things, what lies beneath is that amazing human potential at greatness. I look at many of my friends and think, they are just so wonderful. Even strangers or new acquaintances who have a slight quirk fascinate me. Although we all look alike, for the most part, want to belong to a common group, for the most part, as individuals we are so unique.
I believe that more and more people are beginning to wake up to this reality. Now, what we must consider, is how to make each individual work within a society or community. I do not believe that the North American independent society is a bad thing. Great things have developed and flourished there. However, I do believe that we can combine forces and thoughts with other societies, to learn from, on amore holistic level.
For instance, here in Buenos Aires, I have met extra-ordinary people, however they maintain their sociality (is that a word?). They greet one another with besos on the cheek, they have coffee all afternoon with family, stand in circles and sip mate with friends. The strangest thing I saw at a beach was the way that the families set-up their chairs and blankets. In North America, everyone points their blankets and chairs either towards the water or the sun. In Latin America, they form circles so that they can sit and have conversations all day long. Bizarre, but refreshing.
As I rant and nearly forget where I was going with this, my point is that we can still embrace our differences within and look for those who will accept us back. We are humans and need constant love and attention from others. We need a community because we are social creatures. We are social creatures because we are unique individuals who contribute unique gifts to a group. Normalcy should not be the answer. Pretending you are something you not should not even cross your mind. We shouldn´t try to fix ourselves to be accepted in the opinions of others. If you are everything you want to be, your group will find you.
Nevertheless, the third movie to the X-men trilogy was a disappointment in that Rogue, who from the get-go was poorly slated, chose the have a procedure so that she would lose her mutant power. I understand why her character did that -- everyone just wants to be loved -- but, really? At such a young age? Maybe Bobby would up and leave her for Kitty, leaving Rogue alone anyways.
It seems as though normalcy is what some people strive for today. Perhaps it´s because there are just too many people in the world for each one to be extraordinary. In the end, I guess what appears as normalcy is just that, superficial.
To me, every person I have ever met has had something extra-ordinary about them. Although some people are deceived, thrown off, by the appearance of things, what lies beneath is that amazing human potential at greatness. I look at many of my friends and think, they are just so wonderful. Even strangers or new acquaintances who have a slight quirk fascinate me. Although we all look alike, for the most part, want to belong to a common group, for the most part, as individuals we are so unique.
I believe that more and more people are beginning to wake up to this reality. Now, what we must consider, is how to make each individual work within a society or community. I do not believe that the North American independent society is a bad thing. Great things have developed and flourished there. However, I do believe that we can combine forces and thoughts with other societies, to learn from, on amore holistic level.
For instance, here in Buenos Aires, I have met extra-ordinary people, however they maintain their sociality (is that a word?). They greet one another with besos on the cheek, they have coffee all afternoon with family, stand in circles and sip mate with friends. The strangest thing I saw at a beach was the way that the families set-up their chairs and blankets. In North America, everyone points their blankets and chairs either towards the water or the sun. In Latin America, they form circles so that they can sit and have conversations all day long. Bizarre, but refreshing.
As I rant and nearly forget where I was going with this, my point is that we can still embrace our differences within and look for those who will accept us back. We are humans and need constant love and attention from others. We need a community because we are social creatures. We are social creatures because we are unique individuals who contribute unique gifts to a group. Normalcy should not be the answer. Pretending you are something you not should not even cross your mind. We shouldn´t try to fix ourselves to be accepted in the opinions of others. If you are everything you want to be, your group will find you.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
evolving ideas: private property
The most important part of philosophy is to put it into practice. This was one of Marx´s biggest criticisms of his inspiration, Hegel. Hegel lived in the mind, in logic, whereas Marx understood that humans are sensient beings who actualize themselves as a species by experiencing and doing things (different from labouring at things). Thus, he took Hegels Idea and evolved it into his own formulation: an Ideation of a universal man, the proletariat, a society of communism. As a result, Marx is followed more than any other Hegelian-philosopher. Obviously.
Howevever, my problem with philosophy, an ideology in fact, is devotion. Although I am a firm supporter, more like understander, of the Marxist Idea, much of the the components of Marxist thought does not apply today. The times have changed -- so must we.
Marx´s ideas on labour and property are outdated. What might have been applicable 150 years ago is no longer relevant. Instead, we need to take these ideas, change them and make them adapt to our situation.
Let´s take private property. Much of the arguments against private property are relevant for a time where men were subjected and enslaved as pieces of property themselves. Although I have no doubts that some sort of secretive-serf servitude still exists, at times private property can save your livelihood. Take for example the First-Nations´ Land Rights or the Northern-Canadian disputed land claims. In both cases, not only is the State trying to breach contractual agreements, but, with help from multinational corporate interests, also natural-being agreements. Although I am not a devoted fan of Locke, his principles of private property are dead-on.
If you live on the land and work the land to support yourself and your family, what gives the government or business the right to come in and take it away? The most important part of Locke´s idea is the working of land as how one sees fit. It produces a means for one´s self and one´s family, whether you have a small vegetable patch or a corner-store, that land is being worked by the owner so that the owner may live and provide for his or her family.
In today´s society, despite my dreamy hopes of a world where everyone holds hands and shares, the exchange of goods and services is a necessity. Thus, one who grows vegetables on his land should have the right to exchange, or sell, it to the other man working his corner store. The existence of exchange, usually performed through money, is a modern reality. So, for now, property is a reality.
Until we reach that utopia, or eutopia, an indivdual´s property must be protected. [The word ¨individual¨ is highlighted because property should be the right of man, not the right of conglomerates and most certainly not the right of government.] Once an individual enters into the private- (business) or public- (government) sphere, where he or she must oversee other people´s lives and jobs, his or her right to property should only exist in his or her home, not through or where he or she works. The business and government, as a representative of a group with hidden interests, should have no claim to an individual´s property.
Currently, people are being forced -- physically, mentally, financially -- from their homes as a result of disputed State and Corporation land claims. It is for this reason that First Nations protest on the 400-highways, why Caledonia is such a controversial issue, why the people in Parry Sound and Muskoka region are forced from their homes that have been passed down from generations due to rising land-taxes (because the government re-values these families´property according to business development).
In the end, all I am trying to say is that, right now, my dear Marx, an individual needs his or her property as a safe-haven from economic enslavement. Everyone needs a place to call home. Interesting research has pointed out that the homeless who have found a home, a roof over their heads, become better adjusted and are able to become financially independent. They become individuals.
Even Marx believed that society can only function if people are able to be themselves, to be individuals. Therefore, with the rich getting richer, and the State becoming more powerful, and these two forces combining to run humanity into the ground, private property is a necessity. Hopefully, in a better future, things will change and private property will adapt, evolve, into people joining hands and sharing.
Howevever, my problem with philosophy, an ideology in fact, is devotion. Although I am a firm supporter, more like understander, of the Marxist Idea, much of the the components of Marxist thought does not apply today. The times have changed -- so must we.
Marx´s ideas on labour and property are outdated. What might have been applicable 150 years ago is no longer relevant. Instead, we need to take these ideas, change them and make them adapt to our situation.
Let´s take private property. Much of the arguments against private property are relevant for a time where men were subjected and enslaved as pieces of property themselves. Although I have no doubts that some sort of secretive-serf servitude still exists, at times private property can save your livelihood. Take for example the First-Nations´ Land Rights or the Northern-Canadian disputed land claims. In both cases, not only is the State trying to breach contractual agreements, but, with help from multinational corporate interests, also natural-being agreements. Although I am not a devoted fan of Locke, his principles of private property are dead-on.
If you live on the land and work the land to support yourself and your family, what gives the government or business the right to come in and take it away? The most important part of Locke´s idea is the working of land as how one sees fit. It produces a means for one´s self and one´s family, whether you have a small vegetable patch or a corner-store, that land is being worked by the owner so that the owner may live and provide for his or her family.
In today´s society, despite my dreamy hopes of a world where everyone holds hands and shares, the exchange of goods and services is a necessity. Thus, one who grows vegetables on his land should have the right to exchange, or sell, it to the other man working his corner store. The existence of exchange, usually performed through money, is a modern reality. So, for now, property is a reality.
Until we reach that utopia, or eutopia, an indivdual´s property must be protected. [The word ¨individual¨ is highlighted because property should be the right of man, not the right of conglomerates and most certainly not the right of government.] Once an individual enters into the private- (business) or public- (government) sphere, where he or she must oversee other people´s lives and jobs, his or her right to property should only exist in his or her home, not through or where he or she works. The business and government, as a representative of a group with hidden interests, should have no claim to an individual´s property.
Currently, people are being forced -- physically, mentally, financially -- from their homes as a result of disputed State and Corporation land claims. It is for this reason that First Nations protest on the 400-highways, why Caledonia is such a controversial issue, why the people in Parry Sound and Muskoka region are forced from their homes that have been passed down from generations due to rising land-taxes (because the government re-values these families´property according to business development).
In the end, all I am trying to say is that, right now, my dear Marx, an individual needs his or her property as a safe-haven from economic enslavement. Everyone needs a place to call home. Interesting research has pointed out that the homeless who have found a home, a roof over their heads, become better adjusted and are able to become financially independent. They become individuals.
Even Marx believed that society can only function if people are able to be themselves, to be individuals. Therefore, with the rich getting richer, and the State becoming more powerful, and these two forces combining to run humanity into the ground, private property is a necessity. Hopefully, in a better future, things will change and private property will adapt, evolve, into people joining hands and sharing.
Friday, April 9, 2010
recommended reading
As an addict of many things there is only one man who has been able to leave me satisfied with 10-page doses at a time: Marx. Obviously.
There is something in the way he writes (although I am aware that it is an English-translation) that stirs the embers in my core and make me want to end something he started over a hundred-and-fifty years ago.
Recently, I have dabbling in his Manuscripts on Economy and Philosophy, of which one of the chapters is called, you guessed it again, Money. Although I find the literature fascinating, it is a complex, interwoven, Hegelian-based dialectic that is hard to reinterpret onto paper (or a computer screen). It deals with man being alienated away from his product due to laborious hours as he is always in the pursuit to obtain another man's product. Unfortunately, my writing is not as concise and organized as Marx's philosophical, yet practical, prose.
Thus, I recommend the read for those who are interested in feeling better about working part-time, or feel like there is more to life than putting in 50+ hours of work a week in a job you hate. It truly is enlightening.
There is something in the way he writes (although I am aware that it is an English-translation) that stirs the embers in my core and make me want to end something he started over a hundred-and-fifty years ago.
Recently, I have dabbling in his Manuscripts on Economy and Philosophy, of which one of the chapters is called, you guessed it again, Money. Although I find the literature fascinating, it is a complex, interwoven, Hegelian-based dialectic that is hard to reinterpret onto paper (or a computer screen). It deals with man being alienated away from his product due to laborious hours as he is always in the pursuit to obtain another man's product. Unfortunately, my writing is not as concise and organized as Marx's philosophical, yet practical, prose.
Thus, I recommend the read for those who are interested in feeling better about working part-time, or feel like there is more to life than putting in 50+ hours of work a week in a job you hate. It truly is enlightening.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
evolution, not revolution
Last night, I experienced the closest thing to the Enlightenment's Parisian-salons, where philosophy and politics were discussed in order to hypothesize about a greater future. Normally, when discussing politics or the philosophy behind it, I find myself talking in circles about what we ought to do, of course drawing from Marx, Nietzsche and JJ Rousseau. The Three Kings.
Then, like a slap in the face, I realized that those kings wrote in a different age with different problems, with different ways of fixing them. Today, we live in a time that was unforseen: the virtual age of the internet.
More and more, people are able to educate themselves through this forum. They are able to search out information, ideas, discussion groups, hilarious YouTube videos and relevant blogs. The potential for intellectual growth is astounding. However, we must be aware of the potential consequences.
The Industrial Revolution was supposed to open doors for the people (according to Marx). It was supposed to leave menial labour up the machines so that people would have more free-time to do whatever truly made them happy. Art, writing, riding, hilarious YouTube videos, there is a market for it all.
Nevertheless, as forseen by Marx, the IR enslaved the working-class because of the increased interest in consumption. Instead of machines freeing the worker, they compelled the worker to create more in less time to feed hungry consumers. Instead of the machine releasing man from obligation, it incorporated him, made them into cogs of the wheel.
The virtual revolution is no different.
In a discussion last night, I realized that revolution means to start at one point, typically a low-point, commence a change, rotate, pivot and come full circle, back to the low-point. What we need to learn from all of history's revolutions is the need to change, to move forward, to evolve. We can do this by taking ideas of great philosophers, from Kings and common folk, changing them, adapting them to fit our environment. The only way we can do this is through free-speech, liberdad de expresion, through discussion and critical analysis of opinions and ideas. We need to synthesize thoughts and create relative theories of our own.
Hopefully, the people, especially in Canada, will see the need to step away from the hindrance of censorship. No good can come of the State telling you what to say or what to think. How could our thoughts ever evolve if they are not subjected to criticism and discussion?
That is what the internet should provide: a forum to discuss and criticize Ideas. We do not have to revolve into darkness, reading online gossip magazines or corporate-bought media, whose only job is to spread fear of Swine Flu or market-crashes.
These things, this spreading of fear, endenture man as the worker, makes him think that the only reason to live is just to coast through life, to follow the straight path of complacency.
The inernet has that potential to tear man's soul away from him. However, it also has to potential to show him the light, change him, and allow him to evolve.
Then, like a slap in the face, I realized that those kings wrote in a different age with different problems, with different ways of fixing them. Today, we live in a time that was unforseen: the virtual age of the internet.
More and more, people are able to educate themselves through this forum. They are able to search out information, ideas, discussion groups, hilarious YouTube videos and relevant blogs. The potential for intellectual growth is astounding. However, we must be aware of the potential consequences.
The Industrial Revolution was supposed to open doors for the people (according to Marx). It was supposed to leave menial labour up the machines so that people would have more free-time to do whatever truly made them happy. Art, writing, riding, hilarious YouTube videos, there is a market for it all.
Nevertheless, as forseen by Marx, the IR enslaved the working-class because of the increased interest in consumption. Instead of machines freeing the worker, they compelled the worker to create more in less time to feed hungry consumers. Instead of the machine releasing man from obligation, it incorporated him, made them into cogs of the wheel.
The virtual revolution is no different.
In a discussion last night, I realized that revolution means to start at one point, typically a low-point, commence a change, rotate, pivot and come full circle, back to the low-point. What we need to learn from all of history's revolutions is the need to change, to move forward, to evolve. We can do this by taking ideas of great philosophers, from Kings and common folk, changing them, adapting them to fit our environment. The only way we can do this is through free-speech, liberdad de expresion, through discussion and critical analysis of opinions and ideas. We need to synthesize thoughts and create relative theories of our own.
Hopefully, the people, especially in Canada, will see the need to step away from the hindrance of censorship. No good can come of the State telling you what to say or what to think. How could our thoughts ever evolve if they are not subjected to criticism and discussion?
That is what the internet should provide: a forum to discuss and criticize Ideas. We do not have to revolve into darkness, reading online gossip magazines or corporate-bought media, whose only job is to spread fear of Swine Flu or market-crashes.
These things, this spreading of fear, endenture man as the worker, makes him think that the only reason to live is just to coast through life, to follow the straight path of complacency.
The inernet has that potential to tear man's soul away from him. However, it also has to potential to show him the light, change him, and allow him to evolve.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
the question of god and free speech
Recently, an article in The Toronto Star has exposed the controversial banners (advertisements?) posted along the side of TTC streetcars. The banners provoke passer-bys to deal with common questions surrounding religion and to procede to a website, a discussion forum, to read and contribute to the questions at hand. The most recent polemic question posed: "Does God care if I'm gay?" The "answers" were removed from the website.
Toronto has the most homosexuals per capita than any other city in the world, so I understand when the banners border on offensive. I also do not think that the "answers" provided by "God" are legitimate markers of logic or reason: Instead, it should be looked at as an opinion, a very mighty opinion, mind you.
However, Canada is one of those "forward-thinking" countries who believe in censoring hateful comments. Like an overprotective mother, it cuddles and cradles all those who are "defenseless". In all seriousness, I think it's more offensive for the State to think that a woman, a gay, an ethnic minority, or a religious minority as "defenseless" creatures who need protection. That just sends out the wrong message.
In order to defend these weak, sub-sections of humans, the government, of all levels, has taken it upon itself to form our society's opinions. This is outrageous. I have been reading some of Marx's thoughts on freedom of the press and freedom of speech, and not even J.S. Mills could put it so eloquently:
- [The Leading Article in No. 179 of the Kolnische Zeitung: Religion, Free Press and Philosophy]
Although this sentence was referring to philosophy as an idea, the same applies to thoughts and ideas, which in themselves are a form of informal philosphy. Not only does the question "Does God care if I'm gay?" bring to the public's attention the ever-current tension between homosexuality and the Church, it brings about thoughts about the validity of God's opinion: Why should a homosexual care what God thinks? Why should anyone care about insuring their place in God's good books if we aren't even sure he exists? Why not, like the banners of before questioned, just enjoy the life we have now?
This is what debate forums and chat groups should be about, as long as relevancy prevails. Personal attacks and emotionally driven anger have no place in rounds of discussion in the search of truth, but if the "answers" are rlevant, and we can question those answers, then question those questions, why are they being removed?
This is a tough spot for me because, as I begin to get the ball rolling, I would like TIP to become a debate forum without censorship. It will remain respectful and anything that is not relevant, especially personal attacks, would be removed (more because it's a waste of time to read something uneducated and unintelligent). I want it to become a forum for people to discuss relevant issues, like the elite did in salons during the Enlightenment, but current and accessible to all.
Freedom of Speech is one of those ideas, at the same time practical, that pushes and compels humanity to move forward: To rise against the oppression that is now verbalized which, before, was just a latent feeling lashed out in passive-agreesive manners. Without free speech, we cannot see nor understand nor comprehend the other side's view. We cannot fight back because we do not know their ammunition. We cannot take their "facts" or opinions, research them and then find them false. Without free speech, we live in a war with loaded guns and blindfolds.
Toronto has the most homosexuals per capita than any other city in the world, so I understand when the banners border on offensive. I also do not think that the "answers" provided by "God" are legitimate markers of logic or reason: Instead, it should be looked at as an opinion, a very mighty opinion, mind you.
However, Canada is one of those "forward-thinking" countries who believe in censoring hateful comments. Like an overprotective mother, it cuddles and cradles all those who are "defenseless". In all seriousness, I think it's more offensive for the State to think that a woman, a gay, an ethnic minority, or a religious minority as "defenseless" creatures who need protection. That just sends out the wrong message.
In order to defend these weak, sub-sections of humans, the government, of all levels, has taken it upon itself to form our society's opinions. This is outrageous. I have been reading some of Marx's thoughts on freedom of the press and freedom of speech, and not even J.S. Mills could put it so eloquently:
We can answer this question only by criticizing it.
- [The Leading Article in No. 179 of the Kolnische Zeitung: Religion, Free Press and Philosophy]
Although this sentence was referring to philosophy as an idea, the same applies to thoughts and ideas, which in themselves are a form of informal philosphy. Not only does the question "Does God care if I'm gay?" bring to the public's attention the ever-current tension between homosexuality and the Church, it brings about thoughts about the validity of God's opinion: Why should a homosexual care what God thinks? Why should anyone care about insuring their place in God's good books if we aren't even sure he exists? Why not, like the banners of before questioned, just enjoy the life we have now?
This is what debate forums and chat groups should be about, as long as relevancy prevails. Personal attacks and emotionally driven anger have no place in rounds of discussion in the search of truth, but if the "answers" are rlevant, and we can question those answers, then question those questions, why are they being removed?
This is a tough spot for me because, as I begin to get the ball rolling, I would like TIP to become a debate forum without censorship. It will remain respectful and anything that is not relevant, especially personal attacks, would be removed (more because it's a waste of time to read something uneducated and unintelligent). I want it to become a forum for people to discuss relevant issues, like the elite did in salons during the Enlightenment, but current and accessible to all.
Freedom of Speech is one of those ideas, at the same time practical, that pushes and compels humanity to move forward: To rise against the oppression that is now verbalized which, before, was just a latent feeling lashed out in passive-agreesive manners. Without free speech, we cannot see nor understand nor comprehend the other side's view. We cannot fight back because we do not know their ammunition. We cannot take their "facts" or opinions, research them and then find them false. Without free speech, we live in a war with loaded guns and blindfolds.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
can't get off the "ought"
We are always torn between our want and ought, the bad and good, emotion and reason, impulse and restraint, desire and duty, selfishness and obligation.
It leads to an overall feeling of discontent and sacrifice, compromising our lives for the benefit of others, negotiating terms with god and the devil, existing in the opinion of others, created in their image.
I wonder what a world of want would look like?
We do what we ought to do because we do all things out of love and fear, we rationalize these emotions by acting for and through them, when in truth, the only love and fear one ought to want is for oneself. If you love and fear only yourself, you can choose actions based on an internal sense of well-being.
For example, I ride horses becasue I love to. I love calling some freinds and not others. I fear that I would love cocaine, so I never tried it. I fear not being in love with myself so I try to be the best peron I can be -- although mistakes are rampant in my life, but that's how I have learned the things I never want to do or say again.
The attachment to things outside of yourself, love and fear of others and other things, will tear your soul apart.
To paraphrase Marx, once we restore human dignity, only then can we truly abolish the class-system and become universally equal.
In order to restore human dignity, we should be able to work and create the things we want to.
(As long as it does not infringe on another person's freedom or life.)
REVITALIZE HUMAN DIGNITY.
It leads to an overall feeling of discontent and sacrifice, compromising our lives for the benefit of others, negotiating terms with god and the devil, existing in the opinion of others, created in their image.
I wonder what a world of want would look like?
We do what we ought to do because we do all things out of love and fear, we rationalize these emotions by acting for and through them, when in truth, the only love and fear one ought to want is for oneself. If you love and fear only yourself, you can choose actions based on an internal sense of well-being.
For example, I ride horses becasue I love to. I love calling some freinds and not others. I fear that I would love cocaine, so I never tried it. I fear not being in love with myself so I try to be the best peron I can be -- although mistakes are rampant in my life, but that's how I have learned the things I never want to do or say again.
The attachment to things outside of yourself, love and fear of others and other things, will tear your soul apart.
To paraphrase Marx, once we restore human dignity, only then can we truly abolish the class-system and become universally equal.
In order to restore human dignity, we should be able to work and create the things we want to.
(As long as it does not infringe on another person's freedom or life.)
REVITALIZE HUMAN DIGNITY.
Monday, March 29, 2010
bookstore basics
My mind is watering, salivating, to digest the new-to-me used books that I purchased at my local bookstore, here in San Telmo. Walrus Bookstore, run by an American named Geoffrey and his wife, whom I have not met. Quaint and perfect.
The two books I picked up were none other than the Early Political Writings of Karl Marx and a couple of combo-shorts by Nietzsche. What before seemed like a task, an obligation for school, now feels like an opportunity. Already delving into Marx, making my heart swell with admiration, and hoping to draw from his ideas even more now than before.
Reading the Introduction was a moment of enlightenment -- an epiphanic eureka-moment. For so long, I have been trying to explain to people how Marx was not a Communist, invoking quotes from Capital and Political Economy. When reading Easton and Guddat's intro, who summarize the three earliest periods of Marx's pensive dialectic, I noticed that Marx often uses the term universal when explaining his Idea. As he describes: "the capacity of the universal class to be actually universal, that is, to be the class of every citizen", meaning removing the fictitious value of money, the value as an ends as opposed to a means, which would eliminate the current class-system. Marx's argument is that the obsession with money, materialism, alienates man from his potential, almost endenturing him as a slave to the system. He calls for a revitalization of human dignity. My heart swells and my eyes well-up.
Can he be considered a universalist? No. In all honesty, I don't even think he would have considered himself a Marxist -- ideologies act as a form of religion, alienating man from his true purpose. Eureka!
Do you ever have excitement bubble in your belly for sudden realizations? Perhaps not the belly, perhaps a flutter in the heart or a bounce in the step, a patter of a foot or a fist-pump in the air.
This fine piece of political prose has not only gained a permanent place on my bookshelf, but in my heart, a swell. Such is the importance of a basic bookstore principles.
The two books I picked up were none other than the Early Political Writings of Karl Marx and a couple of combo-shorts by Nietzsche. What before seemed like a task, an obligation for school, now feels like an opportunity. Already delving into Marx, making my heart swell with admiration, and hoping to draw from his ideas even more now than before.
Reading the Introduction was a moment of enlightenment -- an epiphanic eureka-moment. For so long, I have been trying to explain to people how Marx was not a Communist, invoking quotes from Capital and Political Economy. When reading Easton and Guddat's intro, who summarize the three earliest periods of Marx's pensive dialectic, I noticed that Marx often uses the term universal when explaining his Idea. As he describes: "the capacity of the universal class to be actually universal, that is, to be the class of every citizen", meaning removing the fictitious value of money, the value as an ends as opposed to a means, which would eliminate the current class-system. Marx's argument is that the obsession with money, materialism, alienates man from his potential, almost endenturing him as a slave to the system. He calls for a revitalization of human dignity. My heart swells and my eyes well-up.
Can he be considered a universalist? No. In all honesty, I don't even think he would have considered himself a Marxist -- ideologies act as a form of religion, alienating man from his true purpose. Eureka!
Do you ever have excitement bubble in your belly for sudden realizations? Perhaps not the belly, perhaps a flutter in the heart or a bounce in the step, a patter of a foot or a fist-pump in the air.
This fine piece of political prose has not only gained a permanent place on my bookshelf, but in my heart, a swell. Such is the importance of a basic bookstore principles.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
dill & pb, iron & rotisserie
Traveling to a new country is all about the give and take. You miss out on luxuries from back home, but you gain new luxuries in whatever place you land. A basic trade-off would be expensive fast food, but cheap steak. In all honesty, I prefer the latter option and I don't know one person that wouldn't agree.
Good coffee and bicycles for fresh fruit and cheap, comprehensive transit.
Dark music for tango.
Etc.
For these reasons, the information I am about to share is necessary for any North American who wants to venture to Argentina for any prolonged period: I have never craved dill nor peanut butter the way I do now. The reason for my cravings is because I can't have it, or it is difficult to have it. Back home, I would occassionally nibble on some dill, usually satisfied by the odd Vlask, but here, here, I need it. As if a mission for pickles, or some sort of dill by-product, makes me travel to the ends of the universe -- being the other side of the city -- in search for a tiny bushel of eneldo. The Chinatown market sold-out. Of course. Because it's dillicious.
Peanut butter is also a rarity. Back home, maybe once a week, I would dip a spoon into an extra-crunchy and satisfy the craving until the next weekly dip. The peanut butter sweet and smooth, one spoon fills as a semi-meal. Here, nada mucho. In health foodstores they sell pb that is purely pureed peanuts. Although it has been sustaining me for the past 5 months, I still crave Kraft, despite the company's notorious reputation. In Bariloche, a girl had a jar of peanut butter that she got in Chile. I grabbed a spoon and for a moment was, as my comrade Maggy would say, "talking to God".
Nevertheless, these are minor luxuries when it comes to things that, ethically, account for more. Walking into a pharmacy, you don't need a prescription from a doctor for some pills. Now, I'm not talking about hard stuff, but I wanted pills of iron and it was the easiest thing to purchase. It did frighten me, slightly, reading the "Method of Dosage". It said to consult a physician, which is almost impossible to do quickly here, because you can overdose. Obvio, tonta, smacking my head. It's a metal. So, although I was impressed with the lack of bureaucracy around pharmaceuticals, I still need to see a doctor to be recommended a dosage. In Argentina: First prescription, then medical consultation. I see.
Another luxuriant mentionable is the way people do business here, for the most part. It is a rarity to find big-box stores and major corporations, although there are some. When you go to a rotiseria for some chicken, odds are that it won't be Swiss Chalet. What is amazing about small mom&pop shops is that they are usually run by mom&pop, not some pissed-off, hormonal teenager who wants to go home and hang-out with friends.
Last night, we ventured to the rotiseria to grab some chicken (because we are having beef tonight). The spot was closed, protective grate down, but the door was still open with the owner looking out onto the street. Maggy asked the man what times he closed at. He had been closed for nearly half-an-hour. Nevertheless, he asked what we wanted and we told him, "a whole chicken". Well, he had half a chicken but would throw in two chicken breasts. Come in, come in.
He unlocked the grate's tiny door and we ducked in. He closed the Alice In Wonderland-sized door and locked it, then loaded up a tray full of chicken, then came back around, unlocked the grate-door, wished as well and "No, no. Gracias a vos", and locked the rabbit-hole back up. If this was back home, this would not have happened.
Point of the many stories is I traded dill and pb for iron and chicken. It was the give and take that goes with changing cultures and countries. Some may enjoy their native culture so much and wish to stay. That I understand. For example, getting a doctor's appointment would be nice and, maybe at times, necessary. But, when it comes to the litte things, the food and drink things, the shopping and transport things, one shouldn't be bothered.
Instead, if it is truly an issue, stock-up or get boxes delievered. Noted.
Good coffee and bicycles for fresh fruit and cheap, comprehensive transit.
Dark music for tango.
Etc.
For these reasons, the information I am about to share is necessary for any North American who wants to venture to Argentina for any prolonged period: I have never craved dill nor peanut butter the way I do now. The reason for my cravings is because I can't have it, or it is difficult to have it. Back home, I would occassionally nibble on some dill, usually satisfied by the odd Vlask, but here, here, I need it. As if a mission for pickles, or some sort of dill by-product, makes me travel to the ends of the universe -- being the other side of the city -- in search for a tiny bushel of eneldo. The Chinatown market sold-out. Of course. Because it's dillicious.
Peanut butter is also a rarity. Back home, maybe once a week, I would dip a spoon into an extra-crunchy and satisfy the craving until the next weekly dip. The peanut butter sweet and smooth, one spoon fills as a semi-meal. Here, nada mucho. In health foodstores they sell pb that is purely pureed peanuts. Although it has been sustaining me for the past 5 months, I still crave Kraft, despite the company's notorious reputation. In Bariloche, a girl had a jar of peanut butter that she got in Chile. I grabbed a spoon and for a moment was, as my comrade Maggy would say, "talking to God".
Nevertheless, these are minor luxuries when it comes to things that, ethically, account for more. Walking into a pharmacy, you don't need a prescription from a doctor for some pills. Now, I'm not talking about hard stuff, but I wanted pills of iron and it was the easiest thing to purchase. It did frighten me, slightly, reading the "Method of Dosage". It said to consult a physician, which is almost impossible to do quickly here, because you can overdose. Obvio, tonta, smacking my head. It's a metal. So, although I was impressed with the lack of bureaucracy around pharmaceuticals, I still need to see a doctor to be recommended a dosage. In Argentina: First prescription, then medical consultation. I see.
Another luxuriant mentionable is the way people do business here, for the most part. It is a rarity to find big-box stores and major corporations, although there are some. When you go to a rotiseria for some chicken, odds are that it won't be Swiss Chalet. What is amazing about small mom&pop shops is that they are usually run by mom&pop, not some pissed-off, hormonal teenager who wants to go home and hang-out with friends.
Last night, we ventured to the rotiseria to grab some chicken (because we are having beef tonight). The spot was closed, protective grate down, but the door was still open with the owner looking out onto the street. Maggy asked the man what times he closed at. He had been closed for nearly half-an-hour. Nevertheless, he asked what we wanted and we told him, "a whole chicken". Well, he had half a chicken but would throw in two chicken breasts. Come in, come in.
He unlocked the grate's tiny door and we ducked in. He closed the Alice In Wonderland-sized door and locked it, then loaded up a tray full of chicken, then came back around, unlocked the grate-door, wished as well and "No, no. Gracias a vos", and locked the rabbit-hole back up. If this was back home, this would not have happened.
Point of the many stories is I traded dill and pb for iron and chicken. It was the give and take that goes with changing cultures and countries. Some may enjoy their native culture so much and wish to stay. That I understand. For example, getting a doctor's appointment would be nice and, maybe at times, necessary. But, when it comes to the litte things, the food and drink things, the shopping and transport things, one shouldn't be bothered.
Instead, if it is truly an issue, stock-up or get boxes delievered. Noted.
Friday, March 26, 2010
when you start thinking about home
It sucks to be thinking about it, but rather than be stressed, I am going to flow. In fact, I tried to stress myself out, just to see if I could, and I couldn´t.
Checking for flights with the realization that I am on my last leg of life in Buenos Aires. At least for now. What is exciting is that I am not sad, mad, or happy. I have come to accept it as an ¨is¨, living where my hands are, in the present with an awareness of the past and what is to come.
The other day, I picked up Paulo Coehlo´s, The Valkyries. Despite my consideration to become a born-again atheist, I am swept with Coehlo´s fascination and romanticization of magic and God. The story is a semi-non-fiction, which means he merely embellishes his experiences with his wife in the Mojave Desert. The couple journeys through the desert to find a band of lesbians who call themselves the Valkyries so that the women can help Coehlo and his wife meet their resprective angels. Throughtout the process, they feel their ¨souls grow¨.
The growth of the soul coincides with the ability to be in the present and to be in the present, one must look to the horizon, look outside one´s immediate space. Perhaps in the past I would have laughed, cynically, at such nonsense. You can´t even see the horizon in a city. But, then I thought to myself: This change of mood, my elation, it happened in the South. Maybe I saw the horizon. Maybe my soul has grown.
Recommended read.
Checking for flights with the realization that I am on my last leg of life in Buenos Aires. At least for now. What is exciting is that I am not sad, mad, or happy. I have come to accept it as an ¨is¨, living where my hands are, in the present with an awareness of the past and what is to come.
The other day, I picked up Paulo Coehlo´s, The Valkyries. Despite my consideration to become a born-again atheist, I am swept with Coehlo´s fascination and romanticization of magic and God. The story is a semi-non-fiction, which means he merely embellishes his experiences with his wife in the Mojave Desert. The couple journeys through the desert to find a band of lesbians who call themselves the Valkyries so that the women can help Coehlo and his wife meet their resprective angels. Throughtout the process, they feel their ¨souls grow¨.
The growth of the soul coincides with the ability to be in the present and to be in the present, one must look to the horizon, look outside one´s immediate space. Perhaps in the past I would have laughed, cynically, at such nonsense. You can´t even see the horizon in a city. But, then I thought to myself: This change of mood, my elation, it happened in the South. Maybe I saw the horizon. Maybe my soul has grown.
Recommended read.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
where to go for health
Now that some personal health issues have arised, which do not need to be stressed about but need to be confronted, I have been on a mission to discover the Argentine health system. I am fortunate to have an Argentine friend who hooks me up with information whenever I am in need. She is a saviour.
Not only did I want to check out the hospitals or sanitarios but I wanted to see what "natural" options Buenos Aires offered as well. The truth is, not much for the latter. Compared to Toronto, with its crazy black-market for FDA-banned natural products, Buenos Aires is a little behind in the health revolution. Toronto has a natural practioner on every corner and for everything from muscle spasms to pinky toe pains to toxin reduction. It's almost epidemic for the GTA.
Buenos Aires has its barrio chino, Chinatown, that has no homeopathic doctors, a couple reflexologists, and 3 supermarkets where you can buy herbs and sweet bread. The kind of sweet bread that reminds me of the ones you could buy in Taiwan and Chinatown in Toronto. The supermarkets carry some herbs but not enough to constitute an adequate movement towards healthier living. They carry a lot of anti-celulite pills and intestinal-balancing teas for this carnivorous culture, but lacking in pretty much every other aspect of health. I wonder if the treatments don't exist because there are no ailments to address or if those ailments are best treated with modern medicine. I have met a lot of students in school for medicine (and why not? It's free.)
I was given a bunch of links for hospitals and sanitarios by my friend and was happy to see that it costs between $100AR and $180AR ($27CA - $50CA) for private healthcare, depending on where you go. Of course, health insurance can reimburse you, but it's good to know that a consultation won't cost one an arm and a leg, literally, at the desk. My friend also explained that you can go to the University's clinic, which is free, but you will be attended by a student (who is supervised by a licensed practioner). She also said that any emergencies are treated as so, without the harrassment of signing papers to get health insurance information or if the comatose, perhaps fatally wounded, person will be able to pay for treatment.
This country is a lot more advanced than most Western countries when it comes to social programming, -- despite government corruption being pervasive, as it is everywhere. At least here, they know about it. It's a model Canada can truly learn from, the only obstacle is, what they call here, la plata (cash).
The only problem with the Canadian Health Care System is the greediness of our most gifted, usually opting to move south to make more money. Money, money, money. What we are left with are some lengthy waiting times, but not as bad as people think they are, and half-present doctors who dispense prescriptions like candy-machines so that they can get more plata from the system. (Pharma gives them compensation for every prescription filled.) Instead of wanting to heal a patient, with my lengthy experience with healthcare professionals, they are brainwashed to just perform treatments, of no fault of their own. Treatments mean more visits to the doctor which means more plata but less healthy people.
Looks like this is a battle for Briz Wevera, taking what she has learned from the outside and using it inside-out.
Not only did I want to check out the hospitals or sanitarios but I wanted to see what "natural" options Buenos Aires offered as well. The truth is, not much for the latter. Compared to Toronto, with its crazy black-market for FDA-banned natural products, Buenos Aires is a little behind in the health revolution. Toronto has a natural practioner on every corner and for everything from muscle spasms to pinky toe pains to toxin reduction. It's almost epidemic for the GTA.
Buenos Aires has its barrio chino, Chinatown, that has no homeopathic doctors, a couple reflexologists, and 3 supermarkets where you can buy herbs and sweet bread. The kind of sweet bread that reminds me of the ones you could buy in Taiwan and Chinatown in Toronto. The supermarkets carry some herbs but not enough to constitute an adequate movement towards healthier living. They carry a lot of anti-celulite pills and intestinal-balancing teas for this carnivorous culture, but lacking in pretty much every other aspect of health. I wonder if the treatments don't exist because there are no ailments to address or if those ailments are best treated with modern medicine. I have met a lot of students in school for medicine (and why not? It's free.)
I was given a bunch of links for hospitals and sanitarios by my friend and was happy to see that it costs between $100AR and $180AR ($27CA - $50CA) for private healthcare, depending on where you go. Of course, health insurance can reimburse you, but it's good to know that a consultation won't cost one an arm and a leg, literally, at the desk. My friend also explained that you can go to the University's clinic, which is free, but you will be attended by a student (who is supervised by a licensed practioner). She also said that any emergencies are treated as so, without the harrassment of signing papers to get health insurance information or if the comatose, perhaps fatally wounded, person will be able to pay for treatment.
This country is a lot more advanced than most Western countries when it comes to social programming, -- despite government corruption being pervasive, as it is everywhere. At least here, they know about it. It's a model Canada can truly learn from, the only obstacle is, what they call here, la plata (cash).
The only problem with the Canadian Health Care System is the greediness of our most gifted, usually opting to move south to make more money. Money, money, money. What we are left with are some lengthy waiting times, but not as bad as people think they are, and half-present doctors who dispense prescriptions like candy-machines so that they can get more plata from the system. (Pharma gives them compensation for every prescription filled.) Instead of wanting to heal a patient, with my lengthy experience with healthcare professionals, they are brainwashed to just perform treatments, of no fault of their own. Treatments mean more visits to the doctor which means more plata but less healthy people.
Looks like this is a battle for Briz Wevera, taking what she has learned from the outside and using it inside-out.
Friday, March 19, 2010
dilemma drama
The most important thing to note about learning a language is that you will never know it all.
The other day it hit me, kind of hard, that I will be leaving Argentina in just over a month. Tears kind of welled up, not just because the weather is great or that I have met some pretty wonderful people that I will miss dearly, but because I won't get to keep talking Spanish everyday. Actually, I don't even talk Spanish now, it's porteno castellano with funny accents and lisps. I love it.
Moving back means regressing into the habit of speaking English with everyone. It means that, not only will my vocabulary not be expanding, but from the lack of use I will lose it. It makes wells of water under my eyes just thinking about it.
Some people have suggested that I stay here and keep learning more of the language, keep practising until I am fluent, can dream in castellano, involuntarily count in castellano. In all seriousness, I gave this idea a lot of thought. I bounced it around, corner to corner in my brain, wishing an easy answer would come. I have had moments where I said to myself,
"No. Not going back." Then, I would have moments of nostalgia for delicious coffee and bike rides with friends, Vietnamese subs and Kensington Market's natural-food selection. Will that stuff always be there? Will it wait for me?
Probably not. Like any modern city, changes happen quickly. Independent bookstores and run-down cafes disappear. New ones take their place. Perhaps I can return for a short while, stock on supplies and bring them with me.
My dilemma has been resolved, for now. I have compromised the decision in my mind, a little give and take between two wants. What is most comforting is knowing I can always get back to Buenos Aires. I have had a little taste, know the neighbourhoods well enough, know where to look for places to stay, know where to look for jobs. If the burning desire to return ignites, then I will know for sure where my home is and what language it speaks.
The other day it hit me, kind of hard, that I will be leaving Argentina in just over a month. Tears kind of welled up, not just because the weather is great or that I have met some pretty wonderful people that I will miss dearly, but because I won't get to keep talking Spanish everyday. Actually, I don't even talk Spanish now, it's porteno castellano with funny accents and lisps. I love it.
Moving back means regressing into the habit of speaking English with everyone. It means that, not only will my vocabulary not be expanding, but from the lack of use I will lose it. It makes wells of water under my eyes just thinking about it.
Some people have suggested that I stay here and keep learning more of the language, keep practising until I am fluent, can dream in castellano, involuntarily count in castellano. In all seriousness, I gave this idea a lot of thought. I bounced it around, corner to corner in my brain, wishing an easy answer would come. I have had moments where I said to myself,
"No. Not going back." Then, I would have moments of nostalgia for delicious coffee and bike rides with friends, Vietnamese subs and Kensington Market's natural-food selection. Will that stuff always be there? Will it wait for me?
Probably not. Like any modern city, changes happen quickly. Independent bookstores and run-down cafes disappear. New ones take their place. Perhaps I can return for a short while, stock on supplies and bring them with me.
My dilemma has been resolved, for now. I have compromised the decision in my mind, a little give and take between two wants. What is most comforting is knowing I can always get back to Buenos Aires. I have had a little taste, know the neighbourhoods well enough, know where to look for places to stay, know where to look for jobs. If the burning desire to return ignites, then I will know for sure where my home is and what language it speaks.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
st patty in baires
Neat night in Buenos Aires with the comrades. Since on of my comrades is or Irish decent, Irish-Canadian to be politically correct, we headed to a St. Patty´s street party located in B.A.´s Microcentro.
The roads were blocked off, steel gates sectioning off the drunks, cops standing around chain-smoking, porteños dressed in green, none of who had the faintest glimmer of Irish-blood. So neat to see others celebrating for others. Kind of like Canada. Kind of like Christman, actually.
We arrived around 2AM to commence beer-drinking. That´s how it goes here, and we don´t do it often, but when we do, I take a nap at 11PM in order to prepare.
All in all, the experience was interesting to see because the area was highly policed, yet people were obviously publicly intoxicated and still drinking on the streets. And it was approaching 4AM.
Why not?
Pure happy beer buzzes.
The roads were blocked off, steel gates sectioning off the drunks, cops standing around chain-smoking, porteños dressed in green, none of who had the faintest glimmer of Irish-blood. So neat to see others celebrating for others. Kind of like Canada. Kind of like Christman, actually.
We arrived around 2AM to commence beer-drinking. That´s how it goes here, and we don´t do it often, but when we do, I take a nap at 11PM in order to prepare.
All in all, the experience was interesting to see because the area was highly policed, yet people were obviously publicly intoxicated and still drinking on the streets. And it was approaching 4AM.
Why not?
Pure happy beer buzzes.
Monday, March 15, 2010
change
The other day I sipped some mate with a friend whom I hadn't seen in a couple of months. Both of us have been busy and found it difficult to find a common time to meet. She had gotten a new number not too long ago which also made it difficult to arrange a get together, as some poor pibe was receiving my texts for a little while.
My friend is from Louisianna. She moved to Buenos Aires a couple of years ago and has made a very good life for herself here. She speaks Spanish fluently and has picked up on porteno preferences like mate and Fernet - a stronger, medicinal Argentine Jagremeister made from artichoke hearts.
We were chatting about whether I would consider moving here permanently, if I could find some work, expand my Spanish, get a Master's at the University of Buenos Aires, all things that I have considered over the past month. This moved us onto discussing the difference between people who can adapt to a new place and those who cannot. She brought up the question of whether those who cannot adapt to a new place were just not given the opportunity to live like the locals.
In particular, we were discussing a group of ladies she had recently met that have been living in Buenos Aires for up to 3 years. They are stay-at-home moms and mothers whose husbands were transferred from the U.S. to Buenos Aires for a limited contract. After 3 years of living in an area in the city set-up by the company, where all the families are from the States supporting the husbands on contract work, the ladies barely speak any Spanish. On top of that, their children who take Spanish lessons in private, English-speaking schools, do not speak Spanish.
How, my friend asked, can a kid, a sponge, soak up another language, a language that is the native-tongue of the city the family lives in?
She then suggested, maybe it's because the families are put into these compounds, suburbs with no Argentine culture. The suburb is more like a little America, away and secluded from the real life of the city. Perhaps, if the families were better integrated they would like the city more.
Apparently, when my friend asked the ladies if they liked Buenos Aires, they said "no". Essentially, they were counting down the days until they could return to their American suburbs. They looked at their time in Buenos Aires more as a prison sentence, their luxuries taken from them, as opposed to a neat experience. The question we asked each other was, could they adapt if they were forced to? If they were put in the middle of a downtown barrio with an indefinite time-period, could they fall in love with this city, the same way her and I have.
My answer is this: In all honesty, the first 3 months here was hell. I would compare everything that I lacked here to the things I had at home. However, eventually I discovered that there were things I had here that I could never get at home. I realized that things that held me back from fully experiencing this place were the strings that I never thought I could cut. Strings are dangerous things if you are living abroad. I have a friend who went to Asia to teach English. He had some attachments to a life once lived at home. He even went back after a couple of months because the change in culture was so shocking. When he went back, he realized that the knots, the basis of his relationships with family and friends would always be there, even if the strings were cut: They can always be retied. So, he traveled back to Asia where he has since been living for 2 years, learning Mandarin and has a lovely lady.
The short answer is, yes, I do think everyone can adapt and fall in love with a place wherever they are, warzones excluded. You may always call one place home, but can be able to enjoy the experience given to you. The amazing thing about people is their ability to change, not only their selves, but their perception of the space around them. Everyone can do it, but not everyone has the desire to cut strings. It doesn't make one better over the other. It just makes different outcomes.
My friend is from Louisianna. She moved to Buenos Aires a couple of years ago and has made a very good life for herself here. She speaks Spanish fluently and has picked up on porteno preferences like mate and Fernet - a stronger, medicinal Argentine Jagremeister made from artichoke hearts.
We were chatting about whether I would consider moving here permanently, if I could find some work, expand my Spanish, get a Master's at the University of Buenos Aires, all things that I have considered over the past month. This moved us onto discussing the difference between people who can adapt to a new place and those who cannot. She brought up the question of whether those who cannot adapt to a new place were just not given the opportunity to live like the locals.
In particular, we were discussing a group of ladies she had recently met that have been living in Buenos Aires for up to 3 years. They are stay-at-home moms and mothers whose husbands were transferred from the U.S. to Buenos Aires for a limited contract. After 3 years of living in an area in the city set-up by the company, where all the families are from the States supporting the husbands on contract work, the ladies barely speak any Spanish. On top of that, their children who take Spanish lessons in private, English-speaking schools, do not speak Spanish.
How, my friend asked, can a kid, a sponge, soak up another language, a language that is the native-tongue of the city the family lives in?
She then suggested, maybe it's because the families are put into these compounds, suburbs with no Argentine culture. The suburb is more like a little America, away and secluded from the real life of the city. Perhaps, if the families were better integrated they would like the city more.
Apparently, when my friend asked the ladies if they liked Buenos Aires, they said "no". Essentially, they were counting down the days until they could return to their American suburbs. They looked at their time in Buenos Aires more as a prison sentence, their luxuries taken from them, as opposed to a neat experience. The question we asked each other was, could they adapt if they were forced to? If they were put in the middle of a downtown barrio with an indefinite time-period, could they fall in love with this city, the same way her and I have.
My answer is this: In all honesty, the first 3 months here was hell. I would compare everything that I lacked here to the things I had at home. However, eventually I discovered that there were things I had here that I could never get at home. I realized that things that held me back from fully experiencing this place were the strings that I never thought I could cut. Strings are dangerous things if you are living abroad. I have a friend who went to Asia to teach English. He had some attachments to a life once lived at home. He even went back after a couple of months because the change in culture was so shocking. When he went back, he realized that the knots, the basis of his relationships with family and friends would always be there, even if the strings were cut: They can always be retied. So, he traveled back to Asia where he has since been living for 2 years, learning Mandarin and has a lovely lady.
The short answer is, yes, I do think everyone can adapt and fall in love with a place wherever they are, warzones excluded. You may always call one place home, but can be able to enjoy the experience given to you. The amazing thing about people is their ability to change, not only their selves, but their perception of the space around them. Everyone can do it, but not everyone has the desire to cut strings. It doesn't make one better over the other. It just makes different outcomes.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
my first encounter with a thief
It has been almost 5 months since being in Argentina and, despite being repeatedly warned, I have yet to experience any danger. I travelled to Patagonia on my own, walk the streets solo at 3AM, enter the "roughest" neighbourhoods and do not feel frightened.
Danger, here, means something different. When someone tells you to keep an eye, it means that you might be robbed. There is a very small rate of violent crimes, despite Buenos Aires being one of the top-ten largest cities in the world. As I previously stated, since being here I have not need to keep-an-eye. Until Saturday night.
I was waiting for a friend on the corner of the Plaza Dorrego in San Telmo, the barrio we are currently living in. A drunked local approached me and tried chatting me up: asked me if I like Argentine boys, asked me for a kiss. The men are very forward even when sober. I laughed and turned away, telling him I was waiting for a friend. He moved on a little up the street, so I took my phone out and, jokingly, told my friend to hurry up because there were shady characters about the plaza. As I was texting, the drunken local jogged towards me and, in a half-fluid, half-drunken motion, tried to jack my phone. He failed miserably at the task, mumbled mierda and continued to jog away and down the street. I laughed and yelled en serio, seriously? What a joke. He should change his profession. A couple sitting on the wall asked if I was ok, and that they saw everything, and that the guy was an asshole. I just kept chuckling and saying it was fine, the whole time thinking to myself, that was a half-assed robbery.
Danger, here, means something different. When someone tells you to keep an eye, it means that you might be robbed. There is a very small rate of violent crimes, despite Buenos Aires being one of the top-ten largest cities in the world. As I previously stated, since being here I have not need to keep-an-eye. Until Saturday night.
I was waiting for a friend on the corner of the Plaza Dorrego in San Telmo, the barrio we are currently living in. A drunked local approached me and tried chatting me up: asked me if I like Argentine boys, asked me for a kiss. The men are very forward even when sober. I laughed and turned away, telling him I was waiting for a friend. He moved on a little up the street, so I took my phone out and, jokingly, told my friend to hurry up because there were shady characters about the plaza. As I was texting, the drunken local jogged towards me and, in a half-fluid, half-drunken motion, tried to jack my phone. He failed miserably at the task, mumbled mierda and continued to jog away and down the street. I laughed and yelled en serio, seriously? What a joke. He should change his profession. A couple sitting on the wall asked if I was ok, and that they saw everything, and that the guy was an asshole. I just kept chuckling and saying it was fine, the whole time thinking to myself, that was a half-assed robbery.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
righteous rant, or something to think about?
With the world borders becoming increasingly porous, some are questioning what will happen to culture. More specifically, the other night I discussed this issue over asado and vino tinto with my friend.
She is an Argentine from Santa Fe, currently living in Buenos Aires and has been for the past 5 years. She wants to learn how to cook typical Argentine-cuisine and decided to take some classes. She called up a spot in her barrio, neighbourhood, that had a good reputation from many foreigners who had taken classes there. The instructor was an American guy who taught classes out of his home. He told my friend that she had to speak English in the class and that he couldn't teach her in Spanish. My friend was slightly flabbergasted at the pre-requisites to enter a cooking class to learn Argentine cuisine in Buenos Aires in English. She did not have the proper requirements for that class.
She told me it, not only frustrated her, but that it hurt to have someone enter her country, teach classes in a foreign language, and tell her that she couldn't take classes on how to cook her own country's food. I agreed that there was something wrong about that picture.
With people ebbing and flowing through borders, usually the middle- to upper-middle class of the West, people are becoming frustrated. For Argentines, who were once referred to as the richest people in the world, it is tough to see one's country and culture torn away from their hands. Now, especially since 2001, it is tough for Argentines to travel as they don't have that luxury the way Westerners do. Instead, they hold onto their country with pride and a little bit of contempt.
Is it not a little crazy for people to enter a country, impose only the things that they know, not accomodate to the best of their ability the very people who call the place home? Is it not ignorant and selfish to think that we, as Westerners, are the only ones who have anything to contribute? In all honesty, I have learned much more about life from the Argentines than I have taught them. That's why I came here: to learn.
We moved onto the topic of tourism in Argentina and how backwards it can be. This country is beautiful, not unlike Canada in landscape, and many want to see all the sights: Iguazu Falls, the red deserts of Salta, the Perito Moreno glacier, the end of the world in Ushuaia... the list is endless. I also wanted to see some of these sights, which I got to do just over a week ago. I can say, without a flutter, that this country is beautiful. However, I revel in my experience, my journey through Patagonia as opposed to the postcard places I saw.
I traveled by bus, which was tedious and exhausting, but I met some really fascinating Argentines on the bus. An old man who had never left the province of Santa Cruz, a young man in his last year of free-med school, a seatmate from La Plata who had the thickest accent I have heard since being here... 95% of the people riding the bus were from Argentina. The flights to anywhere are just too expensive for them.
Whilst in my various tourist hot-spots, I hung out with Argentines and Chileans, speaking in choppy Spanish the entire time. The Argentines would correct me, "no, pozsho" for chicken, then the Chileans would, later, correct me, "no, poyo". Why couldn't I just say pollo the way it was spelled? A member of the entourage was French whose Spanish was better than his English and my Spanish better than my French. So, when in Argentina...
The trip was a humbling experience that I hold dearly because of the people. The places were more of a let-down than I had anticipated. I got to see a beautiful things, but I met even more beautiful people. We talked about politics and art and music while grilling fresh trout from the stream. Que lindo.
At the Perito Moreno Glacier, there were a lot of Dutch and French tourists. Most of them who I talked to had just taken a flight from Ushuaia or Buenos Aires, were staying a few days and then flying onto wherever else. They just kept bouncing and hopping, seeing the things but not knowing the people. To top it off, a lot of the older tourists, which is the majority in El Calafate where the glacier lays, stay in the hotels. The very hotels owned by the very corrupt Argentine government. It's what they call a barbara, here. Hypocritical. A double-intentioned joke.
I don't want to sound preachy, nor come off as righteous. I think travel is important, but important to learn from. A lot of people travel to find themselves, or love, or a new home, and they bounce around borders, chasing after some ideal. They may change their scenery, but does it change anything inside, whatever lies in their chest, their gut, their mind?
Hopefully.
She is an Argentine from Santa Fe, currently living in Buenos Aires and has been for the past 5 years. She wants to learn how to cook typical Argentine-cuisine and decided to take some classes. She called up a spot in her barrio, neighbourhood, that had a good reputation from many foreigners who had taken classes there. The instructor was an American guy who taught classes out of his home. He told my friend that she had to speak English in the class and that he couldn't teach her in Spanish. My friend was slightly flabbergasted at the pre-requisites to enter a cooking class to learn Argentine cuisine in Buenos Aires in English. She did not have the proper requirements for that class.
She told me it, not only frustrated her, but that it hurt to have someone enter her country, teach classes in a foreign language, and tell her that she couldn't take classes on how to cook her own country's food. I agreed that there was something wrong about that picture.
With people ebbing and flowing through borders, usually the middle- to upper-middle class of the West, people are becoming frustrated. For Argentines, who were once referred to as the richest people in the world, it is tough to see one's country and culture torn away from their hands. Now, especially since 2001, it is tough for Argentines to travel as they don't have that luxury the way Westerners do. Instead, they hold onto their country with pride and a little bit of contempt.
Is it not a little crazy for people to enter a country, impose only the things that they know, not accomodate to the best of their ability the very people who call the place home? Is it not ignorant and selfish to think that we, as Westerners, are the only ones who have anything to contribute? In all honesty, I have learned much more about life from the Argentines than I have taught them. That's why I came here: to learn.
We moved onto the topic of tourism in Argentina and how backwards it can be. This country is beautiful, not unlike Canada in landscape, and many want to see all the sights: Iguazu Falls, the red deserts of Salta, the Perito Moreno glacier, the end of the world in Ushuaia... the list is endless. I also wanted to see some of these sights, which I got to do just over a week ago. I can say, without a flutter, that this country is beautiful. However, I revel in my experience, my journey through Patagonia as opposed to the postcard places I saw.
I traveled by bus, which was tedious and exhausting, but I met some really fascinating Argentines on the bus. An old man who had never left the province of Santa Cruz, a young man in his last year of free-med school, a seatmate from La Plata who had the thickest accent I have heard since being here... 95% of the people riding the bus were from Argentina. The flights to anywhere are just too expensive for them.
Whilst in my various tourist hot-spots, I hung out with Argentines and Chileans, speaking in choppy Spanish the entire time. The Argentines would correct me, "no, pozsho" for chicken, then the Chileans would, later, correct me, "no, poyo". Why couldn't I just say pollo the way it was spelled? A member of the entourage was French whose Spanish was better than his English and my Spanish better than my French. So, when in Argentina...
The trip was a humbling experience that I hold dearly because of the people. The places were more of a let-down than I had anticipated. I got to see a beautiful things, but I met even more beautiful people. We talked about politics and art and music while grilling fresh trout from the stream. Que lindo.
At the Perito Moreno Glacier, there were a lot of Dutch and French tourists. Most of them who I talked to had just taken a flight from Ushuaia or Buenos Aires, were staying a few days and then flying onto wherever else. They just kept bouncing and hopping, seeing the things but not knowing the people. To top it off, a lot of the older tourists, which is the majority in El Calafate where the glacier lays, stay in the hotels. The very hotels owned by the very corrupt Argentine government. It's what they call a barbara, here. Hypocritical. A double-intentioned joke.
I don't want to sound preachy, nor come off as righteous. I think travel is important, but important to learn from. A lot of people travel to find themselves, or love, or a new home, and they bounce around borders, chasing after some ideal. They may change their scenery, but does it change anything inside, whatever lies in their chest, their gut, their mind?
Hopefully.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
worth considering
Alright, I bite my tongue. Yesterday's post about the fear of getting teeth done in Argentina was an impulsive move, mostly driven by the pain in my lower left jaw.
Last night I had the pleasure of chatting with my Argentine friend about education and healthcare here, in Buenos Aires. What an eye-opener.
Although Argentina is rifed with corrupt politicians and thieving presidents, it does have two of the most important tools any society should not be without: free education and free medical care. The free education includes everything up to and including one's doctorate as long as you attend a State University like UBA or Universidad de Cordoba. You literally pay nothing, other than for books and materials, for as long as you are in school. I have met students studying architecture, law and medicine who are in school for 6 to 7 years with no tuition costs. Not only will they leave school with a skill, but debt-free, able to save whatever scrimpings they can to buy a home (with money, not with credit) or have a family (with money, not with credit).
Free medical costs cover everything as well, up to and including dentistry, a huge oversight in Canada's healthcare system. A healthy mouth is a healthy body. If you get into an accident, you are treated. If you are sick, you are treated. I have a friend who knows someone with HIV and he just walks into a hospital, they run tests, give him his medication and he goes home within an hour. For some reason, despite this public-system, there are no ardurous wait times. If you want to get a "cosmetic", dental surgery, like removing painful wisdom-teeth, it costs nothing if you go to the Dentistry School and, literally, a fraction of one's earnings if you don't. Here, in Argentina, there are options.
What was more impressive was being told that foreigners can have these "luxuries" (Iprefer to call them basic human rights) as well. I am looking at Master's programs here at UBA which could entitle me to a little piece of the basic-human-rights-pie. It is an affordable post-grad program and, if I am a student, as I was told, I could get access to the social programs offered here.
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world.
Last night I had the pleasure of chatting with my Argentine friend about education and healthcare here, in Buenos Aires. What an eye-opener.
Although Argentina is rifed with corrupt politicians and thieving presidents, it does have two of the most important tools any society should not be without: free education and free medical care. The free education includes everything up to and including one's doctorate as long as you attend a State University like UBA or Universidad de Cordoba. You literally pay nothing, other than for books and materials, for as long as you are in school. I have met students studying architecture, law and medicine who are in school for 6 to 7 years with no tuition costs. Not only will they leave school with a skill, but debt-free, able to save whatever scrimpings they can to buy a home (with money, not with credit) or have a family (with money, not with credit).
Free medical costs cover everything as well, up to and including dentistry, a huge oversight in Canada's healthcare system. A healthy mouth is a healthy body. If you get into an accident, you are treated. If you are sick, you are treated. I have a friend who knows someone with HIV and he just walks into a hospital, they run tests, give him his medication and he goes home within an hour. For some reason, despite this public-system, there are no ardurous wait times. If you want to get a "cosmetic", dental surgery, like removing painful wisdom-teeth, it costs nothing if you go to the Dentistry School and, literally, a fraction of one's earnings if you don't. Here, in Argentina, there are options.
What was more impressive was being told that foreigners can have these "luxuries" (Iprefer to call them basic human rights) as well. I am looking at Master's programs here at UBA which could entitle me to a little piece of the basic-human-rights-pie. It is an affordable post-grad program and, if I am a student, as I was told, I could get access to the social programs offered here.
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world.
Monday, March 8, 2010
pain in the ear
Last night I woke with a sudden urge to dig out my ear. It wasn't an offensive urge, merely annoyance at the fact that my lower wisdom-teeth are growing in. Or tying to.
My lower jaw has become a bit swollen from their valiant effort to rise and mash up some delicious, Argentine steak, and the pain is bearable. Nonetheless, I know they need to come out and the question isn't when, but where?
I have just under two months that I have allotted myself in beautiful Buenos Aires, and I could stay longer if I wanted. However, I want to see my family and friends, share some good coffee and hop on my bike, Blue Velvet, whom I miss terribly. Within this two-month allotment, I have the option of getting my teeth pulled, instantly relieving the discomfort and allowing my gums to heal before I go home. In Buenos Aires, it is an affordable procedure but I still have some concerns: would the procedure be done to my Canadian standards?
Since moving here, I have noticed similarities between Argentina and Canada. These countries share similar terrain, the people are nice, they are multicultural (in a European-mix sense), they have MTV, hipsters and corrupt politicians, eating disorders and big slabs of beef. Nonetheless, I have noticed one pervasive difference: half-assedness. If such a word exists.
Don't get me wrong. I believe that some things don't need to be done to perfection, especially when you have bigger problems like a thieving president. However, the streets are dirty, there is dog-shit everywhere, the people litter, and have a general air of "je ne care pas". Although rates of plastic surgery are high - boob jobs and botox - I am a little concerned when it comes to my teeth. I had been told by some Argentine friends that I should just go for it, but my overall concern isn't my mouth getting messed up. The repercussions that make me hesitant. Having to deal with the half-assed aftermath dental surgery is manageable in Canada. I am a citizen there and HealthCare can save me. Although travel insurance can covers costs here, the convenience of having a system dedicated to its citizens is a bonus (if we could straighten out the administration of our taxes and make the system more transparent, well, that would be utopia).
So, I will see how it goes, weigh some more pros and cons, see where the pain goes and, as always, keep you posted.
My lower jaw has become a bit swollen from their valiant effort to rise and mash up some delicious, Argentine steak, and the pain is bearable. Nonetheless, I know they need to come out and the question isn't when, but where?
I have just under two months that I have allotted myself in beautiful Buenos Aires, and I could stay longer if I wanted. However, I want to see my family and friends, share some good coffee and hop on my bike, Blue Velvet, whom I miss terribly. Within this two-month allotment, I have the option of getting my teeth pulled, instantly relieving the discomfort and allowing my gums to heal before I go home. In Buenos Aires, it is an affordable procedure but I still have some concerns: would the procedure be done to my Canadian standards?
Since moving here, I have noticed similarities between Argentina and Canada. These countries share similar terrain, the people are nice, they are multicultural (in a European-mix sense), they have MTV, hipsters and corrupt politicians, eating disorders and big slabs of beef. Nonetheless, I have noticed one pervasive difference: half-assedness. If such a word exists.
Don't get me wrong. I believe that some things don't need to be done to perfection, especially when you have bigger problems like a thieving president. However, the streets are dirty, there is dog-shit everywhere, the people litter, and have a general air of "je ne care pas". Although rates of plastic surgery are high - boob jobs and botox - I am a little concerned when it comes to my teeth. I had been told by some Argentine friends that I should just go for it, but my overall concern isn't my mouth getting messed up. The repercussions that make me hesitant. Having to deal with the half-assed aftermath dental surgery is manageable in Canada. I am a citizen there and HealthCare can save me. Although travel insurance can covers costs here, the convenience of having a system dedicated to its citizens is a bonus (if we could straighten out the administration of our taxes and make the system more transparent, well, that would be utopia).
So, I will see how it goes, weigh some more pros and cons, see where the pain goes and, as always, keep you posted.
Friday, March 5, 2010
the difference between "ought" and "want"
As Westerners, we are trained and encouraged to act, and then feel, based on what we "ought" to do. We ought to be good to our neighbours, we ought to volunteer at the local shelter, we ought to be selfless and altruistic. In the same stroke, when we feel compelled to ought to do something, we are eliminating our capacity to want, a word we have learned is synonomous with greed and selfishness. This is what we are taught, but it is not how humans actually think.
I would argue that we focus on the wrong kind of want - I want that new Fall jacket, I want that mansion, I want that Ferrari - instead of truly digging deeper and discovering what we really want in life - like love, meaningful relationships, freedom from tyrrany, fulfilling our inherent potential. To counter balance our materialistic, superficial wants, we beign to perform acts of "ought", feeling socially and morally compelled to do so. This has, at least on a personal level, been the struggle. After feeling guilty for doing these acts of materialistic-want, we pay penitence through acts of ought. We feel good about these acts of ought and treat ourselves, reward ourselves, with more acts of materialistic-want. And so the cycle continues.
But, what would happen if everyone was able to do what they truly wanted to do? Would we step into the dark realms of a Hobbesian society where life is nasty, cruel, brutish and short? Or, could we, as human beings, transcend into the utopia of Marx's dreams? Before we can even begin to imagine what could be, we have to look at what is.
I would argue that what people truly want is a prescribed fiction of the State, the Corporation and the Church: to live as tax-paying, consuming, God-fearing creatures. To live just above sustenance in order to live as long as possible in a life of mediocrity. The only benefactors of this system are the Leviathans listed above. They have created this world, one where the individual is barely living, so that you can live longer, not better, making you pay taxes longer, but not better, making you consume more things, not better things, and prolong your inevitable meeting with a rathful God, but not a better God. They have created these false idols of want which alienate people from their souls. In the end, for penitence, people "choose" an altruistic output to deflect the shame of their imposed selfishness.
However, I believe that, inherently, people are good. In general, we want to help those in been because, one day, we will need to be helped, too. We enjoy seeing people succeed because it inspires us to do the same. Just below the superficial skin, we want everyone to experience freedom from oppression and disease because it is part of our species survival.
In the end, it turns out, what we ought to do is exactly what we want to do, we have just been fooling ourselves into thinking that we are independent creatures who do not want, nor require, anybody else. Our creativity is individual, yet our evolution is a group effort. The truth is, we do not have fur to keep us warm, nor sharp teeth to rip hyde from our prey. We move on two legs, disabling our speed to hunt. Some of us are great at math whilst others excel at drawing. Some of us have an aptitude for cooking whilst others are better drivers. If we could being to see our personal strengths, make them better, and bring them to the community, people could start working as a team, each player a valuable asset. We would want to help those in need or want to teach others because it would benefit the whole. Instead of many cogs in a machine, we could develop a living, breathing, growing organism of progress.
In the end, what I am trying to say is: the difference between "ought" and "want" is that "ought" ought not exist.
I would argue that we focus on the wrong kind of want - I want that new Fall jacket, I want that mansion, I want that Ferrari - instead of truly digging deeper and discovering what we really want in life - like love, meaningful relationships, freedom from tyrrany, fulfilling our inherent potential. To counter balance our materialistic, superficial wants, we beign to perform acts of "ought", feeling socially and morally compelled to do so. This has, at least on a personal level, been the struggle. After feeling guilty for doing these acts of materialistic-want, we pay penitence through acts of ought. We feel good about these acts of ought and treat ourselves, reward ourselves, with more acts of materialistic-want. And so the cycle continues.
But, what would happen if everyone was able to do what they truly wanted to do? Would we step into the dark realms of a Hobbesian society where life is nasty, cruel, brutish and short? Or, could we, as human beings, transcend into the utopia of Marx's dreams? Before we can even begin to imagine what could be, we have to look at what is.
I would argue that what people truly want is a prescribed fiction of the State, the Corporation and the Church: to live as tax-paying, consuming, God-fearing creatures. To live just above sustenance in order to live as long as possible in a life of mediocrity. The only benefactors of this system are the Leviathans listed above. They have created this world, one where the individual is barely living, so that you can live longer, not better, making you pay taxes longer, but not better, making you consume more things, not better things, and prolong your inevitable meeting with a rathful God, but not a better God. They have created these false idols of want which alienate people from their souls. In the end, for penitence, people "choose" an altruistic output to deflect the shame of their imposed selfishness.
However, I believe that, inherently, people are good. In general, we want to help those in been because, one day, we will need to be helped, too. We enjoy seeing people succeed because it inspires us to do the same. Just below the superficial skin, we want everyone to experience freedom from oppression and disease because it is part of our species survival.
In the end, it turns out, what we ought to do is exactly what we want to do, we have just been fooling ourselves into thinking that we are independent creatures who do not want, nor require, anybody else. Our creativity is individual, yet our evolution is a group effort. The truth is, we do not have fur to keep us warm, nor sharp teeth to rip hyde from our prey. We move on two legs, disabling our speed to hunt. Some of us are great at math whilst others excel at drawing. Some of us have an aptitude for cooking whilst others are better drivers. If we could being to see our personal strengths, make them better, and bring them to the community, people could start working as a team, each player a valuable asset. We would want to help those in need or want to teach others because it would benefit the whole. Instead of many cogs in a machine, we could develop a living, breathing, growing organism of progress.
In the end, what I am trying to say is: the difference between "ought" and "want" is that "ought" ought not exist.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
off topic
One of the most difficult questions I have had to answer, more frequently due to my travels south, is: "what do you do?" In all seriousness, I have no idea how to answer the question. I even started making things up like, "I'm studying Spanish" (which is partially true), or "I write for a magazine" (also, partially true).
Nevertheless, there is still a sense of grittiness I get from stretching the truth. In truth, I do nothing, which, at times, can be just as pressing as doing everything.
One Californian named Ryan asked me how it was possible to live in Buenos Aires for 6 months without working or going to school. Those were the words he used, but deep down I knew he was asking how much money I was worth. This was a rather forward question, as well as embarrassing as I was sitting next to an Argentine (most really don't have any money and are quite aware of this fact), but I bucked-up and tried to answer as appropriately as possible, given the circumstances. I casually explained that I had worked my ass off saving money for a year and that I lived on a very tight budget (ok, also partially true). The reality is that Buenos Aires, when you rent an apartment, cook at home and not travel, is very affordable by North American standards. But, how could I say that sitting next to an Argentine guy from the bustling city who just told me that 50 pesos (U$S15) was way too much to pay for dinner.
The resounding conclusion is that Argentina has poverty, as most Argentines keep telling me. Most of the people from the country have told me it is impossible for them to travel as it is so expensive. When there is a girl working at a hostel 6 graveyard shifts a week for $2000AR pesos (U$S600) a month, I can believe it. Life does not have luxuries here, in Argentina, but the people's spirits are admirable. They seem to take the state-imposed poverty with a graceful frustration. For example, in El Calafate I saw Kirchner's hotel and mansion, built with whose money no one knows. But there is no vandalism, no graffiti on the buildings (probably from fear of disappearing), and there seems to be a quiet acceptance.
So, needless to say, I felt a sting. Here I am, doing nothing because I can and Argentines working relentlessly hoping for a change to come. Do I feel sorry? Hell no. Now, I can spend some time stirring the pot, enacting a change. I am grateful to be where I am and how I am living. Now, all I need is to choose to spend my time wisely instead of frivolously.
In the end, I believe this is the way Argentina will go until the people realize that they are the many and the corrupt politicians are the few. After all, this is Che Guevara's country.
Nevertheless, there is still a sense of grittiness I get from stretching the truth. In truth, I do nothing, which, at times, can be just as pressing as doing everything.
One Californian named Ryan asked me how it was possible to live in Buenos Aires for 6 months without working or going to school. Those were the words he used, but deep down I knew he was asking how much money I was worth. This was a rather forward question, as well as embarrassing as I was sitting next to an Argentine (most really don't have any money and are quite aware of this fact), but I bucked-up and tried to answer as appropriately as possible, given the circumstances. I casually explained that I had worked my ass off saving money for a year and that I lived on a very tight budget (ok, also partially true). The reality is that Buenos Aires, when you rent an apartment, cook at home and not travel, is very affordable by North American standards. But, how could I say that sitting next to an Argentine guy from the bustling city who just told me that 50 pesos (U$S15) was way too much to pay for dinner.
The resounding conclusion is that Argentina has poverty, as most Argentines keep telling me. Most of the people from the country have told me it is impossible for them to travel as it is so expensive. When there is a girl working at a hostel 6 graveyard shifts a week for $2000AR pesos (U$S600) a month, I can believe it. Life does not have luxuries here, in Argentina, but the people's spirits are admirable. They seem to take the state-imposed poverty with a graceful frustration. For example, in El Calafate I saw Kirchner's hotel and mansion, built with whose money no one knows. But there is no vandalism, no graffiti on the buildings (probably from fear of disappearing), and there seems to be a quiet acceptance.
So, needless to say, I felt a sting. Here I am, doing nothing because I can and Argentines working relentlessly hoping for a change to come. Do I feel sorry? Hell no. Now, I can spend some time stirring the pot, enacting a change. I am grateful to be where I am and how I am living. Now, all I need is to choose to spend my time wisely instead of frivolously.
In the end, I believe this is the way Argentina will go until the people realize that they are the many and the corrupt politicians are the few. After all, this is Che Guevara's country.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
contraband ibuprofen
I had my list of purchases that I needed to make for the day: film, toothpaste, a small towel and ibuprofeno (Buscapina gave me an allergic reaction last time).
I forgot that it was Sunday in San Telmo, as I often tend to forget what day it is, but today was definitely Sunday as the streets were packed for the fair. Vendors and artists lined the streets which meant that most businesses would be closed. I couldn´t buy film or a towel. I found toothpaste at the supermarket, but, for some reason, the supermarket did not carry ibuprofene. I went to a kiosco to buy some pain-killers and the guy told me it didn´t sell them anymore. That was fine, so I went to another kiosco that I knew sold them because I had bought them there before.
I went into the kiosco and asked for 10 capsules, the worker waited for the other customers to pay and leave. Once it was just the two of use, he shuffled behind the counter and presented my with a tiny, brown-paper baggy with 10 pills inside. Confused and a little nervous, I asked why the pain-killers were so hard to find. He could sense that I didn´t know yet. He looked around and explained that a law had been passed 2 weeks ago that disallowed the sale of ibuprofeno. I wanted to ask if the law applied to every business including pharmacies. However, some customers came in to buy some pop and water. The worker wished me a good day with an edge in his manner and I took that as a sign to get my contraband drugs out of the dealer´s backyard as quickly as possible.
Strange to think that a North American staple, for headache and cramp sufferers, could become the next item of prohibition. What are all the hungover porteños going to do?
I forgot that it was Sunday in San Telmo, as I often tend to forget what day it is, but today was definitely Sunday as the streets were packed for the fair. Vendors and artists lined the streets which meant that most businesses would be closed. I couldn´t buy film or a towel. I found toothpaste at the supermarket, but, for some reason, the supermarket did not carry ibuprofene. I went to a kiosco to buy some pain-killers and the guy told me it didn´t sell them anymore. That was fine, so I went to another kiosco that I knew sold them because I had bought them there before.
I went into the kiosco and asked for 10 capsules, the worker waited for the other customers to pay and leave. Once it was just the two of use, he shuffled behind the counter and presented my with a tiny, brown-paper baggy with 10 pills inside. Confused and a little nervous, I asked why the pain-killers were so hard to find. He could sense that I didn´t know yet. He looked around and explained that a law had been passed 2 weeks ago that disallowed the sale of ibuprofeno. I wanted to ask if the law applied to every business including pharmacies. However, some customers came in to buy some pop and water. The worker wished me a good day with an edge in his manner and I took that as a sign to get my contraband drugs out of the dealer´s backyard as quickly as possible.
Strange to think that a North American staple, for headache and cramp sufferers, could become the next item of prohibition. What are all the hungover porteños going to do?
theory of relativity
I´m not exactly knowledgable about this theory but I do want to use it in a general point. Einstein´s theory, that had something to do with equal gravitational forces on different points of something that was a result of space and time and math, can be applied to all aspects of life, including politics.
Not unlike physics, politics reflects the social, emotive phenomena of relativity. Yesterday, whilst nibbling on miga, sitting under a shady tree in a park in Buenos Aires, my friend and I tried to compare political structures. He, a native of Buenos Aires, tried to argue that the Argentine government is the worst government in the world (a lot of Argentines tell me this all the time). I told him, being a Canadian, and thus, neighbour with the US, that America had the worst government in the world. After arguing back and forth, pros and cons, English an dSpanish, we settled on the American government being the second worst in the world right behind Argentina.
The reason was this: America´s middle-class is bigger which means more people can afford a step-above necessities. However, I pointed out that the gap between the rich and poor in America was larger in the US where there exist bajillionaires (a term he didn´t understand) and pervasive poverty issues. When asked how much a poor person would make, I shrugged my shoulders and guessed $10,000 to $15,000 per year. My friend laughed and said that is ow much the clase medio makes per year in Buenos Aires.
I tried explaining that the cost of living is so much more expensive and that people could barely eat on that, let alone pay rent. However, it did make me curious on whether someone from Argentina, if he saw the cities and the ¨ghettos¨, would persistenly claim that America is better off. If he sawNew Orleans, post-Katrina, or the Harlem-side of Central Park at night, Compton of Mexican-border towns, would he be so quick in his generalizations?
What is portayed in the media to the world is a glamourous fabulousness of middle-class life contentment, where most of our problems consist of whether we feel actualized or skinny or lazy or heartbroken. Unfortunately, this is not the case for some in America who are, instead, concerned of where to live of how to eat.
My friend continued to tell me that poverty, la pobreza, is not the same in America as it is here, in Bs. As. He said, ¨we have villas (slums and shanty-towns) and people without homes, people sleeping on the streets under overhangs with only a mattress and some basic belongings. You don´t have that in America.¨
Although I am not American, I have seen some of its cities and believe that Canadian cities are much the same. I explained to my friend that there are homeless people and they don´t even have mattresses, just cardboard, if they are ¨lucky¨. I added that violence in a Toronto or New York ¨ghetto¨ seems to be more ruthless. Guns, knives, drugs, gangs, theft, murder are everyday realities that we have, too.
Even on the news here, La Plata, one of the more violent villas, experiences robbaries and kidnappings regularly, but more on the side of neighbourhood and family disputes. A guy will kidnap his kids from his in-laws but he hangs out with them at his own house until the polic show up. A man in a wheelchair slams into someone else and steals her bag, wheeling away. There are also moments that seem, to me, markers of a higher community standard as opposed to the way ghettos are portrayed back home. For example, a man in La Plata was molesting local children. Once a few neighbours found out, they rallied, pulled him out of his house, beat the shit out of him and launched rocks through his windows, sending a message to him and any other pervs thinking about touching little children. Recently, I was told that a villa in La Boca, close to where we live now, acts more like a commune. Everyone chips in their earnings to purchase food and basic necessities for the community. Now, I do know that Toronto´s Regent Park has a weekend market where residents can sell food or crafts, but I don´t know if they share the profits.
With all of this information backing up my points, my friend still looked at me a bit sideways with a twinkle of doubt in his eyes. I told him that if he ever goes to Toronto I would show him our version of villas, just to understand it better.
I guess he has to see it to believe it.
Not unlike physics, politics reflects the social, emotive phenomena of relativity. Yesterday, whilst nibbling on miga, sitting under a shady tree in a park in Buenos Aires, my friend and I tried to compare political structures. He, a native of Buenos Aires, tried to argue that the Argentine government is the worst government in the world (a lot of Argentines tell me this all the time). I told him, being a Canadian, and thus, neighbour with the US, that America had the worst government in the world. After arguing back and forth, pros and cons, English an dSpanish, we settled on the American government being the second worst in the world right behind Argentina.
The reason was this: America´s middle-class is bigger which means more people can afford a step-above necessities. However, I pointed out that the gap between the rich and poor in America was larger in the US where there exist bajillionaires (a term he didn´t understand) and pervasive poverty issues. When asked how much a poor person would make, I shrugged my shoulders and guessed $10,000 to $15,000 per year. My friend laughed and said that is ow much the clase medio makes per year in Buenos Aires.
I tried explaining that the cost of living is so much more expensive and that people could barely eat on that, let alone pay rent. However, it did make me curious on whether someone from Argentina, if he saw the cities and the ¨ghettos¨, would persistenly claim that America is better off. If he sawNew Orleans, post-Katrina, or the Harlem-side of Central Park at night, Compton of Mexican-border towns, would he be so quick in his generalizations?
What is portayed in the media to the world is a glamourous fabulousness of middle-class life contentment, where most of our problems consist of whether we feel actualized or skinny or lazy or heartbroken. Unfortunately, this is not the case for some in America who are, instead, concerned of where to live of how to eat.
My friend continued to tell me that poverty, la pobreza, is not the same in America as it is here, in Bs. As. He said, ¨we have villas (slums and shanty-towns) and people without homes, people sleeping on the streets under overhangs with only a mattress and some basic belongings. You don´t have that in America.¨
Although I am not American, I have seen some of its cities and believe that Canadian cities are much the same. I explained to my friend that there are homeless people and they don´t even have mattresses, just cardboard, if they are ¨lucky¨. I added that violence in a Toronto or New York ¨ghetto¨ seems to be more ruthless. Guns, knives, drugs, gangs, theft, murder are everyday realities that we have, too.
Even on the news here, La Plata, one of the more violent villas, experiences robbaries and kidnappings regularly, but more on the side of neighbourhood and family disputes. A guy will kidnap his kids from his in-laws but he hangs out with them at his own house until the polic show up. A man in a wheelchair slams into someone else and steals her bag, wheeling away. There are also moments that seem, to me, markers of a higher community standard as opposed to the way ghettos are portrayed back home. For example, a man in La Plata was molesting local children. Once a few neighbours found out, they rallied, pulled him out of his house, beat the shit out of him and launched rocks through his windows, sending a message to him and any other pervs thinking about touching little children. Recently, I was told that a villa in La Boca, close to where we live now, acts more like a commune. Everyone chips in their earnings to purchase food and basic necessities for the community. Now, I do know that Toronto´s Regent Park has a weekend market where residents can sell food or crafts, but I don´t know if they share the profits.
With all of this information backing up my points, my friend still looked at me a bit sideways with a twinkle of doubt in his eyes. I told him that if he ever goes to Toronto I would show him our version of villas, just to understand it better.
I guess he has to see it to believe it.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
why argentines are not getting into bar brawls
Last weekend, the comrades and I headed out to 'interview' an Irish pub in Buenos Aires. We need to check out all the candidates before St. Patty's day falls upon us. We must be ready.
We decided to check out The Shamrock, relatively closeby, about 10 blocks or 1 kilometre away. We left FOR the bar at 2. In the the morning.
When we arrived the bar was pretty full and people were casually standing around sipping on Imperial or Quilmes. A lot of people were foreigners, like us, just wanting to have a decent pub at hand. I guess it might have been the amount of time we have been here, or maybe it's the overall Argentine vibe, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. People, even the Irish, were calmly drinking and chatting to one another. Comrade to comrade.
The 4 of us sat down at a table and decided to chat amongst ourselves. The entire time, or at least until 5:30AM when we decided to leave, the bar was steady and there was no ruckus. Why?
We finished off the night with some pizza for dinner, eating amongst the working-men, having their morning coffee before they went to their jobs. We watched the sunrise over some grapefruit pop and cheese pizza, grande. Still, no ruckus. I don't even know how to spell ruckus.
Why?
Well, we discussed the answer the following day: because no one needs to make a ruckus. They are not forced to get wasted before a certain time, thus, proceeding to the bar to order round after round of shots. There is no need to have a good time fast because you want to go all night. No need for last call. No need to cut people off. No need for unnecessary police force to keep the peace. Just people, living, having a good time, doing what they want to do without imposing on anyone else. Always thought it was a possibility. Never thought I would live to see it.
Well, I lived to see it, had a good time, did what I wanted to do without imposing on anyone else.
We decided to check out The Shamrock, relatively closeby, about 10 blocks or 1 kilometre away. We left FOR the bar at 2. In the the morning.
When we arrived the bar was pretty full and people were casually standing around sipping on Imperial or Quilmes. A lot of people were foreigners, like us, just wanting to have a decent pub at hand. I guess it might have been the amount of time we have been here, or maybe it's the overall Argentine vibe, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. People, even the Irish, were calmly drinking and chatting to one another. Comrade to comrade.
The 4 of us sat down at a table and decided to chat amongst ourselves. The entire time, or at least until 5:30AM when we decided to leave, the bar was steady and there was no ruckus. Why?
We finished off the night with some pizza for dinner, eating amongst the working-men, having their morning coffee before they went to their jobs. We watched the sunrise over some grapefruit pop and cheese pizza, grande. Still, no ruckus. I don't even know how to spell ruckus.
Why?
Well, we discussed the answer the following day: because no one needs to make a ruckus. They are not forced to get wasted before a certain time, thus, proceeding to the bar to order round after round of shots. There is no need to have a good time fast because you want to go all night. No need for last call. No need to cut people off. No need for unnecessary police force to keep the peace. Just people, living, having a good time, doing what they want to do without imposing on anyone else. Always thought it was a possibility. Never thought I would live to see it.
Well, I lived to see it, had a good time, did what I wanted to do without imposing on anyone else.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
so what do you do?
The battle, the struggle, is for the many. On the student-debt note, I would like to share some tips of how to live of the radar. In the end, even if you don't want to live off the radar, it can truly save a lot of calls from collection agencies, and, therefore, a lot of headaches.
There is a credit card that you can get from Money Mart that acts like an American debit account. So, you put money on it, and whenever you use your Visa, it just takes the money off the balance. By doing this, you alleviate any falsely-created debt. Wouldn't it be liberating to know that you don't have to pay a credit card bill every month, but you get all the "luxuries" of having a credit card. You can book plane tickets, hotel rooms, or if you don't have the cash on you, buy a new piece of techmology.
Some may find this hard to pursue as they don't have the funds to put anything onto the "credit card" anyways. My thoughts are, why wouldn't you try to? There is instant freedom when you do not have to pay another bill. One thing I learned, here in Argentina, is that North Americans are obsessed with debt. It's the "buy now, pay later" effect that is encouraged, not only when buying a house, or a car, but furniture and even clothing. I think you have to be able to step out of that box, eliminate your debt, and live the free life. Once you discover the innerworkings of the system, I won't say it is easy, but it is a relief to step away from.
A very close comrade of mine has set-up a MetaWealth website where you can go and figure out some help on how we look at money. I, myself, am a recovering money-oholic. I am still trying to take the baby steps to expand my obsessive-compulsive, North-American, hoarding and consuming syndrome (OCNAHCS). The website is a forum in which to expand one's thoughts about the ebb and flow of energy in the form of money. It may just open one's sleepy eyes a little, or it may be the very spark one needs to ignite a change.
There is a credit card that you can get from Money Mart that acts like an American debit account. So, you put money on it, and whenever you use your Visa, it just takes the money off the balance. By doing this, you alleviate any falsely-created debt. Wouldn't it be liberating to know that you don't have to pay a credit card bill every month, but you get all the "luxuries" of having a credit card. You can book plane tickets, hotel rooms, or if you don't have the cash on you, buy a new piece of techmology.
Some may find this hard to pursue as they don't have the funds to put anything onto the "credit card" anyways. My thoughts are, why wouldn't you try to? There is instant freedom when you do not have to pay another bill. One thing I learned, here in Argentina, is that North Americans are obsessed with debt. It's the "buy now, pay later" effect that is encouraged, not only when buying a house, or a car, but furniture and even clothing. I think you have to be able to step out of that box, eliminate your debt, and live the free life. Once you discover the innerworkings of the system, I won't say it is easy, but it is a relief to step away from.
A very close comrade of mine has set-up a MetaWealth website where you can go and figure out some help on how we look at money. I, myself, am a recovering money-oholic. I am still trying to take the baby steps to expand my obsessive-compulsive, North-American, hoarding and consuming syndrome (OCNAHCS). The website is a forum in which to expand one's thoughts about the ebb and flow of energy in the form of money. It may just open one's sleepy eyes a little, or it may be the very spark one needs to ignite a change.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
baby steps
Today has been a eyes-wide opener. When you realize that some of the most important people around are making those steps toward a complete paradigm shift, you can't help but glow a little. Recently, I read my friend's blog about the steps she and her husband are taking to ensure that their child does not grow up in the same world we are living in. She is expecting in a few months, and the steps she has taken on her research of products is inspiring. She has truly bloomed into a grounded, educated, soon-to-be-mama.
The big issue was diapers. She and her husband have just put a deposit on a diaper-cleaning service so that they do not have to use disposable ones. What a savvy pair. They found that, although the downpayment is a lot up front, the total money saved, in the long term, outweighed the current cost. Cost included the diapers and the environmental factors. Apparently, as she wrote, it takes 250+ years for disposable diapers to break down. Not so good for this fragile planet of ours. They took it upon temselves to do the necessary research and penny-saving in order to benefit their child, not to mention their grandchildren down the line.
I am always fascinated and moved when people close to me choose to take the path that may be right, but a little more difficult. Of course, buying Pampers would be easier in the short term, just a quick step away to your nearest cornerstore for some diapers, but these two actually researched their options and made the decision to do it differently. Well, differently to modern standards as even I grew up on cloth diapers.
We can change things, the course of the world, if we all took these baby steps. Little by little, things can change I have friends that boycott Nestle based on the company's unethical practice of bottling a town's water, running the town dry, then selling them bottles of their own natural water. Whatever we can all do to help in this slow, but sure, process of change.
Kudos to all those that may not be ready to make a whole life change, but are taking the necessary steps in educating themselves in hopes for a brighter future.
The big issue was diapers. She and her husband have just put a deposit on a diaper-cleaning service so that they do not have to use disposable ones. What a savvy pair. They found that, although the downpayment is a lot up front, the total money saved, in the long term, outweighed the current cost. Cost included the diapers and the environmental factors. Apparently, as she wrote, it takes 250+ years for disposable diapers to break down. Not so good for this fragile planet of ours. They took it upon temselves to do the necessary research and penny-saving in order to benefit their child, not to mention their grandchildren down the line.
I am always fascinated and moved when people close to me choose to take the path that may be right, but a little more difficult. Of course, buying Pampers would be easier in the short term, just a quick step away to your nearest cornerstore for some diapers, but these two actually researched their options and made the decision to do it differently. Well, differently to modern standards as even I grew up on cloth diapers.
We can change things, the course of the world, if we all took these baby steps. Little by little, things can change I have friends that boycott Nestle based on the company's unethical practice of bottling a town's water, running the town dry, then selling them bottles of their own natural water. Whatever we can all do to help in this slow, but sure, process of change.
Kudos to all those that may not be ready to make a whole life change, but are taking the necessary steps in educating themselves in hopes for a brighter future.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
these people do exist
One of the common questions I get asked is: if this is an option, why don't more people know about it? The answer is that many people already know about it and live it. The person who passed you on the street, or who sold you your last used-book, or the Minsiter of Finance himself, already all know about it. However, like any good working machine, it tries to get rid of the jam in the wheel.
Now, I'm not talking about secret, covert operations where they whisk you away to some forlorn interogation cell. There would be an uproar and the media would/could be all over it. But, in addition to the above answer is: just because you don't hear about it doesn't mean it's not happening. Remember, secrets happen aall over the world and throughout history. All that matters is what's written in the books. I never thought I would say this, but thanks to the internet, the victors can be your everyday man, woman, even child.
My thoughts are to get online and start looking. Start to become aware of what is really going on. There are some key words you can look into like Admiral Law, Occupied Territories, Economic Apartheid. The list is truly endless. I'm not saying that you have to do anything or accept what some of these theories throw out there. However, I believe upon reading anything, even if you don't agree with it, provides some useful, intellectual ammunition.
There are people who live in Canada, mostly on the West coast, those hippies, who have been living as free-, natural-persons for some time. They now take the time to share the information they have discovered on this fascinating forum the internet.
So, when people wonder why they haven't heard anything about this stuff all I have to say is: you weren't listening. It would be like people denying that apartheid or racism doesn't exist, or that people are unlawfully evicted from their homelands in order to create naval bases. People in the 1930s and 40s didn't believe that millions of people were being sent to gas chambers. Boy, were they wrong.
I think we are coming upon an age where the people are getting educated and, as a result, getting restless. They are tired of putting up with the same crap the State has not offered and the Corporation has taken away. I think the most recent financial crisis is a key marker in these two bodies trying to hold onto what power they have left.
They are beginning to realize that "we are the many, they are the few".
Now, I'm not talking about secret, covert operations where they whisk you away to some forlorn interogation cell. There would be an uproar and the media would/could be all over it. But, in addition to the above answer is: just because you don't hear about it doesn't mean it's not happening. Remember, secrets happen aall over the world and throughout history. All that matters is what's written in the books. I never thought I would say this, but thanks to the internet, the victors can be your everyday man, woman, even child.
My thoughts are to get online and start looking. Start to become aware of what is really going on. There are some key words you can look into like Admiral Law, Occupied Territories, Economic Apartheid. The list is truly endless. I'm not saying that you have to do anything or accept what some of these theories throw out there. However, I believe upon reading anything, even if you don't agree with it, provides some useful, intellectual ammunition.
There are people who live in Canada, mostly on the West coast, those hippies, who have been living as free-, natural-persons for some time. They now take the time to share the information they have discovered on this fascinating forum the internet.
So, when people wonder why they haven't heard anything about this stuff all I have to say is: you weren't listening. It would be like people denying that apartheid or racism doesn't exist, or that people are unlawfully evicted from their homelands in order to create naval bases. People in the 1930s and 40s didn't believe that millions of people were being sent to gas chambers. Boy, were they wrong.
I think we are coming upon an age where the people are getting educated and, as a result, getting restless. They are tired of putting up with the same crap the State has not offered and the Corporation has taken away. I think the most recent financial crisis is a key marker in these two bodies trying to hold onto what power they have left.
They are beginning to realize that "we are the many, they are the few".
Sunday, January 17, 2010
fight it
As promised, I have reserved this space as an outlet, functioning forum, for the free trade of thought on how to fight the man. As an endentured slave of the State, through high tuition costs and student loans, I have been doing a little research on the topic. You must be forewarned that the following information is not for everyone, it is merely an introduction to the things I have come across in a butt-ton of reading. I still have a butt-ton more to read.
As I have already stated, the man is trying to keep me (and others) down by making them into cogs of a complex, hierarchical wheel. Even though most of us believe that we are a part of a middle class, I would beg to differ. We think we have medicare, welfare, and minimum wages when in reality all we have is complacency. We are taught from a very young age to work hard to get to university or college and then work hard to pay off our loans and then work hard to contribute as much as possible to consuming or accumulating. This is the lifeline which we tacitly subscribed to. Therefore, what I am about to write is for those who don't want to follow a formula, but to live without the shackles of the oppressor. It is completely your choice to do what is right or what is easy.
When a student has $40,000 of student loan debt, what is he or she supposed to do? I was told many times not to worry and that everyone has debt. This is false. People all over the world may not live in half-a-million dollar houses, they may not have brand-name clothing, but they get by, save their money, and buy the things they need. Some people I have met in Buenos Aires are absolutely shocked that people take out hundreds of thousands of dollars just to buy houses or cars or to pay off even more debt. I tried to explain to them that it's because everything is so expensive (comparatively) and that some everyday things just cost too much. What is interesting is that they were also shocked that North Americans work 40+ hours per week and that they don't really get to enjoy the things that they bought. I kept wondering how on Earth can people work only 25 hours a week, doing things they love like painting, interior design, drawing, teaching yoga, and still be able to afford multiple apartments and cars? I guess the answer is relativity.
Living in Argentina, in the 10th largest city in the world, has put some things into perspective. It's true it is hard for a foreigner to find work here, but if you can find a job that is portable - like art, writing, music, design - you could comfortably live here on the equivalent of minimum wage back home. So, why is Canada so expensive?
Well, like all governments, including the Argentine government, they have linked up with the Corporation to borrow money from the population without any intention of ever giving it back. Despite what it says, the government is stinking rich. The problem is that it has a hoarding problem. For generations, Canadians have paid taxes on everything in order for the State to pay off its own debt. It should be giving back to its people, right? Herein lies the problem: it doesn't give back, not proportionately anyways. It creates the population's debt, puts people into near poverty, to try and put itself back in the black. The thing is, it never will, and, as a result, Canadians have to endure some humbling experiences. This is not the way a government is supposed to work. Civil servants are supposed to do everything in their power to serve the people. It should not be a glamorous life with designer suits, 23-chamber mansions, and multiple estates, but one of altruistic selflessness.
Let's use the example of student debt to see the crumbling corruption. In 1967, Canada signed and ratified the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, entry into force as of January 3rd, 1976. In it, Article 13 specifically stipulates that primary education is a right and should be provided free of charge. That we have, although sometimes the ethical nature of the educational institution can be called into question. Thank whatever-it-is that there are some good teachers out there. Article 13 also stipulates that secondary education - in this case university, college and trade schools - should be subsidized, which we also have. However, it also says that the government will ensure that fees for secondary education will eventually be reduced to nothing. That, the State has not done. Instead, it has increased tuition by 1000%. It explains that the hike is to cover inflation. If inflation was this exponential, the cost of bread should be, approximately, $250.
As tuition increased, student loans increased, not only in monetary significance, but in dispension. Some people attest that the increase in loans was due to the growing middle class. In fact, it was the working class that was growing. People were ripped from convocation to be thrown into the immediate pit of the workforce, made to work their loans off as quickly as possible. I have felt the tension and apprehension when in the classroom. Students in their last year of school are terrified of graduation because they may not get a good enough job to pay back their loans. Usually, these people were the ones who were unable to volunteer at career-oriented placements to improve their resume or able to wholly focus on academics because they needed a part-time job just to survive. The fear ends up making us animals: we will grab any opportunity we can no matter what happens or who gets hurt. It's the fear of surviving.
So, the State increased tuition. What are we supposed to do about it? Well, we fight it. There is a process of writing letters to your MP, MPP, Minister of Finance, the head of the National Student Loans... the list is endless, to raise awareness of this issue. It's a lot of work. It's overwhelming at times. Again, it's your choice to continue. If you want more information, I suggest that you look some stuff up first. For example, an impertinent thing to read, although tedious and tiresome, is The Canada Student Financial Assistance Act. Article 16.1 explicitly states that there is a limitation period of 6 years to which, at the end of the 6 years, the State may not go after you for your student loans. There is an unknown catch: the 6 year limitation period 'resets' itself everytime you contact the student loan services, even if you call them to tell them you cannot make payments. That's why they call you all the time, to keep resetting the clock, hoping, in the end, that you will pay the loan back, plus years of accumulated interest. It's a pretty sound investment for them and absolutely debilitating for us.
So, now, you have to think about whether it is worth it. To flee, fight, or fall on your knees and beg for mercy. What they don't tell you is that the choice is yours. You may not end up living the 'normal' life, but I think that a life of working a thousand hours at a thankless job, the stress of even more debt, the shere misery of being considered a powerless subject is no life at all.
If the idea of living an abnormal life freaks anyone out, I understand. I had/have those moments all the time. But, if you truly think about the consequences to not doing something, not enacting some sort of change, then you not only relinquish your power as a human being with the right to live, you perpetuate the machine, you roll the wheel into the future where it ruins the lives of our children and grandchildren.
It most definitely will not be easy, but I wouldn't mind devoting myself to a life worth fighting for. The question is: would you?
As I have already stated, the man is trying to keep me (and others) down by making them into cogs of a complex, hierarchical wheel. Even though most of us believe that we are a part of a middle class, I would beg to differ. We think we have medicare, welfare, and minimum wages when in reality all we have is complacency. We are taught from a very young age to work hard to get to university or college and then work hard to pay off our loans and then work hard to contribute as much as possible to consuming or accumulating. This is the lifeline which we tacitly subscribed to. Therefore, what I am about to write is for those who don't want to follow a formula, but to live without the shackles of the oppressor. It is completely your choice to do what is right or what is easy.
When a student has $40,000 of student loan debt, what is he or she supposed to do? I was told many times not to worry and that everyone has debt. This is false. People all over the world may not live in half-a-million dollar houses, they may not have brand-name clothing, but they get by, save their money, and buy the things they need. Some people I have met in Buenos Aires are absolutely shocked that people take out hundreds of thousands of dollars just to buy houses or cars or to pay off even more debt. I tried to explain to them that it's because everything is so expensive (comparatively) and that some everyday things just cost too much. What is interesting is that they were also shocked that North Americans work 40+ hours per week and that they don't really get to enjoy the things that they bought. I kept wondering how on Earth can people work only 25 hours a week, doing things they love like painting, interior design, drawing, teaching yoga, and still be able to afford multiple apartments and cars? I guess the answer is relativity.
Living in Argentina, in the 10th largest city in the world, has put some things into perspective. It's true it is hard for a foreigner to find work here, but if you can find a job that is portable - like art, writing, music, design - you could comfortably live here on the equivalent of minimum wage back home. So, why is Canada so expensive?
Well, like all governments, including the Argentine government, they have linked up with the Corporation to borrow money from the population without any intention of ever giving it back. Despite what it says, the government is stinking rich. The problem is that it has a hoarding problem. For generations, Canadians have paid taxes on everything in order for the State to pay off its own debt. It should be giving back to its people, right? Herein lies the problem: it doesn't give back, not proportionately anyways. It creates the population's debt, puts people into near poverty, to try and put itself back in the black. The thing is, it never will, and, as a result, Canadians have to endure some humbling experiences. This is not the way a government is supposed to work. Civil servants are supposed to do everything in their power to serve the people. It should not be a glamorous life with designer suits, 23-chamber mansions, and multiple estates, but one of altruistic selflessness.
Let's use the example of student debt to see the crumbling corruption. In 1967, Canada signed and ratified the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, entry into force as of January 3rd, 1976. In it, Article 13 specifically stipulates that primary education is a right and should be provided free of charge. That we have, although sometimes the ethical nature of the educational institution can be called into question. Thank whatever-it-is that there are some good teachers out there. Article 13 also stipulates that secondary education - in this case university, college and trade schools - should be subsidized, which we also have. However, it also says that the government will ensure that fees for secondary education will eventually be reduced to nothing. That, the State has not done. Instead, it has increased tuition by 1000%. It explains that the hike is to cover inflation. If inflation was this exponential, the cost of bread should be, approximately, $250.
As tuition increased, student loans increased, not only in monetary significance, but in dispension. Some people attest that the increase in loans was due to the growing middle class. In fact, it was the working class that was growing. People were ripped from convocation to be thrown into the immediate pit of the workforce, made to work their loans off as quickly as possible. I have felt the tension and apprehension when in the classroom. Students in their last year of school are terrified of graduation because they may not get a good enough job to pay back their loans. Usually, these people were the ones who were unable to volunteer at career-oriented placements to improve their resume or able to wholly focus on academics because they needed a part-time job just to survive. The fear ends up making us animals: we will grab any opportunity we can no matter what happens or who gets hurt. It's the fear of surviving.
So, the State increased tuition. What are we supposed to do about it? Well, we fight it. There is a process of writing letters to your MP, MPP, Minister of Finance, the head of the National Student Loans... the list is endless, to raise awareness of this issue. It's a lot of work. It's overwhelming at times. Again, it's your choice to continue. If you want more information, I suggest that you look some stuff up first. For example, an impertinent thing to read, although tedious and tiresome, is The Canada Student Financial Assistance Act. Article 16.1 explicitly states that there is a limitation period of 6 years to which, at the end of the 6 years, the State may not go after you for your student loans. There is an unknown catch: the 6 year limitation period 'resets' itself everytime you contact the student loan services, even if you call them to tell them you cannot make payments. That's why they call you all the time, to keep resetting the clock, hoping, in the end, that you will pay the loan back, plus years of accumulated interest. It's a pretty sound investment for them and absolutely debilitating for us.
So, now, you have to think about whether it is worth it. To flee, fight, or fall on your knees and beg for mercy. What they don't tell you is that the choice is yours. You may not end up living the 'normal' life, but I think that a life of working a thousand hours at a thankless job, the stress of even more debt, the shere misery of being considered a powerless subject is no life at all.
If the idea of living an abnormal life freaks anyone out, I understand. I had/have those moments all the time. But, if you truly think about the consequences to not doing something, not enacting some sort of change, then you not only relinquish your power as a human being with the right to live, you perpetuate the machine, you roll the wheel into the future where it ruins the lives of our children and grandchildren.
It most definitely will not be easy, but I wouldn't mind devoting myself to a life worth fighting for. The question is: would you?
Monday, January 11, 2010
To Mari Marcel: the conscience is the hands of the people
A couple of months go, I read Raging Against The Machine, the New Internationalist's compilation of shorts and essays that have been published over the past 30-years in its thought-provoking, politically-charged, independent magazine. The content is emotional and at times, disturbing, because it is all true: the Man working against the people, leaving them in financial and physical ruin.
One article that stood out was written by Mari Marcel Thekaekara called, Where has all he conscience gone? In it, she questions the path that international development has taken. She argues that what once was barely recognized as a reputable profession has become a career of glamorous travel and 5-star hotels. I don't disagree. The ID students that I met in university wore 5-inch heels to class and sported the latest Dior sunglasses, their $3,000 word-processors in hand, cruising facebook between boring interjections of intellect.
Indeed, what did happen to international development?
Well, it became a business. The Corporations capitalized on the human condition of compassion. We no longer have bare-foot basic-essentialists running through "Third World" countries, nails torn, hair dirty, with a smile plastered over their faces. No. There seems to be more money in it than we thought. Now, development is about pushing papers, bureaucratic meetings, deals being dealt between unauthorized representatives of 'the cause'.
The reason it happened is simple: the game changed, but not the paradigm. The illusion of change came from a re-focusing of fiscal flow. Instead of investing in sweatshops, the almight and powerful invested in World Vision and Habitat For Humanity. With a facetious facade of altruism, the business and state were able to extract charitable donations to feed its never ending hunger of economic prosperity. This paradism did not change: it is still all about accumulation.
For development to have any actual effect, the paradigm needs to shift, permanently, from a culture of consuming and hoarding to a community of holistic sharing. We all need to realize that an individual's unique talents is a gift to the group. He or she should not be forced to do that which he or she is not good at. But, you are thinking, that person should work hard in order to reap any rewards. You see, you are not changing. Why does someone have to work his or her self to the ground in order to live? Is living really a privilege? If so, that we would have the absolute right to take it away from anyone who did not fall in line with a prescribed way of living. You only work 20 hours a week? Dead.
What is good for the individual is good for society, the only problem is that the current paradigm dictates that what is good is big houses, with a bank account to match and fast cars. If we shift those thoughts to a more organice, genuine sense of goodness, then we can change the system.
However, it is a two-way street. What is good for the group is also good for the individual. If everyone is healthy, educated and able to perform his or her specific task, how is the individual not benefitted?
Humans have created a parasictic ecosystem where they believe that success is measured from how well one person is doing. That person takes and takes, leeches resources from his or her surroundings, from the environment, from animals, from other PEOPLE, just to grow bigger and stronger. It kills its environment in the process. No sustainable ecosystem can exist like that.
Change the paradigm. Think about circles, the Kreb cycle, unity of body and mind, the cycle of rain, the circle of life, anything, really, to change the way you think.
Give, take, share, live. For the greater good.
One article that stood out was written by Mari Marcel Thekaekara called, Where has all he conscience gone? In it, she questions the path that international development has taken. She argues that what once was barely recognized as a reputable profession has become a career of glamorous travel and 5-star hotels. I don't disagree. The ID students that I met in university wore 5-inch heels to class and sported the latest Dior sunglasses, their $3,000 word-processors in hand, cruising facebook between boring interjections of intellect.
Indeed, what did happen to international development?
Well, it became a business. The Corporations capitalized on the human condition of compassion. We no longer have bare-foot basic-essentialists running through "Third World" countries, nails torn, hair dirty, with a smile plastered over their faces. No. There seems to be more money in it than we thought. Now, development is about pushing papers, bureaucratic meetings, deals being dealt between unauthorized representatives of 'the cause'.
The reason it happened is simple: the game changed, but not the paradigm. The illusion of change came from a re-focusing of fiscal flow. Instead of investing in sweatshops, the almight and powerful invested in World Vision and Habitat For Humanity. With a facetious facade of altruism, the business and state were able to extract charitable donations to feed its never ending hunger of economic prosperity. This paradism did not change: it is still all about accumulation.
For development to have any actual effect, the paradigm needs to shift, permanently, from a culture of consuming and hoarding to a community of holistic sharing. We all need to realize that an individual's unique talents is a gift to the group. He or she should not be forced to do that which he or she is not good at. But, you are thinking, that person should work hard in order to reap any rewards. You see, you are not changing. Why does someone have to work his or her self to the ground in order to live? Is living really a privilege? If so, that we would have the absolute right to take it away from anyone who did not fall in line with a prescribed way of living. You only work 20 hours a week? Dead.
What is good for the individual is good for society, the only problem is that the current paradigm dictates that what is good is big houses, with a bank account to match and fast cars. If we shift those thoughts to a more organice, genuine sense of goodness, then we can change the system.
However, it is a two-way street. What is good for the group is also good for the individual. If everyone is healthy, educated and able to perform his or her specific task, how is the individual not benefitted?
Humans have created a parasictic ecosystem where they believe that success is measured from how well one person is doing. That person takes and takes, leeches resources from his or her surroundings, from the environment, from animals, from other PEOPLE, just to grow bigger and stronger. It kills its environment in the process. No sustainable ecosystem can exist like that.
Change the paradigm. Think about circles, the Kreb cycle, unity of body and mind, the cycle of rain, the circle of life, anything, really, to change the way you think.
Give, take, share, live. For the greater good.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Briz Wevera returns: KV saved my life.
Here is a link for all, to venture into the inner workings of my other half, a more personal side, a more creative side.
This site will be used, hence here to fore, as a personal battle against tyranny page. Please enjoy both.
http://thebubblesaredead.wordpress.com/
This site will be used, hence here to fore, as a personal battle against tyranny page. Please enjoy both.
http://thebubblesaredead.wordpress.com/
a beautiful day in buenos aires
How can someone stay in bed, stay inside when the sky is blue and the temerature a healthy mid-twenties? I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and to finally go out and do something, take advantage of my second summer. Recently, I have been a little homebound, writing furiously with pen-and-paper, researching Canadian laws, and eating ice cream. I think I got a shot of endorphines from yesterday's riding lesson, so I decided to take to the streets today.
I meandered to Belgrano to buy some shampoo and to walk around a little bit. It was nice to feel the sun on my skin, the breeze through my hair. But, I still couldn't keep my head, my mind from whirring. There seems to be a constant sound in my head, like that of a computer buzzing, trying to process too many things at one time. The reasons: existential, quater-life crisis, wondering about whether the past was a waste, the present is worth it, or if the future will be kind.
I started experiencing a slight feeling of anxiousness. I have not been this volatile since high school, unsureness just scaring the shit out of me. Consistency is something humans strive for, whether it is to be constantly happy, sad, neurotic... And, so it goes. We also always desire to change the way we are feeling. We always think happiness is just on the other side, but when you get there, you realize that it's the same everywhere. I think the reason is because people are always looking for external justifications to be happy. We want our parents to be proud of us, we want others to appreciate whatever we have created, and we need others to tell us they love us, even if we already know it. The reason people never find happiness in different places is because true happiness radiates from within. Once someone discovers what it is like to be happy with oneself, then no matter where you go, happiness will follow.
Am I having a great time in Buenos Aires? Hell, yes. The weather is sublime, although the days are getting shorter. Would I do this all over again knowing the outcome of my actions? Truthfully, yes. Because we all need time to get comfortable with ourselves. Once we feel a little more peace and a little more happiness in our own skin, we can begin to honestly share it with others.
So, as a footnote, as of next week I will be starting personal reflections on another blog I have created. I will post the link later, but The Informal Press is going to start getting a little more serious. Briz Wevera's eco-socio-political writings will be posted on this blogspot, sharing information with all, uniting students, workers, even businessmen in a fight against the man.
viva la vida! ... no reference to Coldplay intended.
I meandered to Belgrano to buy some shampoo and to walk around a little bit. It was nice to feel the sun on my skin, the breeze through my hair. But, I still couldn't keep my head, my mind from whirring. There seems to be a constant sound in my head, like that of a computer buzzing, trying to process too many things at one time. The reasons: existential, quater-life crisis, wondering about whether the past was a waste, the present is worth it, or if the future will be kind.
I started experiencing a slight feeling of anxiousness. I have not been this volatile since high school, unsureness just scaring the shit out of me. Consistency is something humans strive for, whether it is to be constantly happy, sad, neurotic... And, so it goes. We also always desire to change the way we are feeling. We always think happiness is just on the other side, but when you get there, you realize that it's the same everywhere. I think the reason is because people are always looking for external justifications to be happy. We want our parents to be proud of us, we want others to appreciate whatever we have created, and we need others to tell us they love us, even if we already know it. The reason people never find happiness in different places is because true happiness radiates from within. Once someone discovers what it is like to be happy with oneself, then no matter where you go, happiness will follow.
Am I having a great time in Buenos Aires? Hell, yes. The weather is sublime, although the days are getting shorter. Would I do this all over again knowing the outcome of my actions? Truthfully, yes. Because we all need time to get comfortable with ourselves. Once we feel a little more peace and a little more happiness in our own skin, we can begin to honestly share it with others.
So, as a footnote, as of next week I will be starting personal reflections on another blog I have created. I will post the link later, but The Informal Press is going to start getting a little more serious. Briz Wevera's eco-socio-political writings will be posted on this blogspot, sharing information with all, uniting students, workers, even businessmen in a fight against the man.
viva la vida! ... no reference to Coldplay intended.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
a case of the mondays
Post-New Year's recuperation was a slow, but great success. The Eve to remember was a hoop-la of hilarity and wonder. The trinamic trio rung in the New Year at our apartment, trying to keep in mind that Argentines have a thing for going out late.
We left for a club, Museum, at 1-ish AM and arrived half-an-hour later, too early. We got in, a respectable $15CA cover + one free drink, and the floor was barely half-covered. We took this 'tranquil' opportunity to scope the place out. Floor to ceiling must have been 4 to 5 stories, straight up. Along the sides, balcony-like overhangs allowed those VIPs to look down on the crowd. On the ground-level, was a confusion of senses, young kids dancing and girating alongside senior citizens. I guess Argentines just love to dance. We decided to pull up some patio furniture, that's right, green plastic chairs, to sit, drink and observe. Beer was still only $3CA, even in the club. Muy nice.
We met some new friends, partied and danced the night away. Eventually, I had an epiphany of fatigue. I told the room-comrades that it was time to go, they obligingly agreeing. Obviously, there are no windows in clubs, but the fact that the bar was still serving fooled my sense into believing we were only at Museum for a couple of hours. When we emerged from the cavernous depths of clubland, mine eyes beheld daylight. Not dawn, daylight. So this is how they are able to party all night. I felt like a porteño, even though it was just for a night. Nevertheless, I needed a whole weekend to achieve some sort of alkaline balance.
Thus, for Monday, I arragned a big day. A few weeks ago I had met a guy on a bus who does walking-tours of the city-centre. Over the weekend of detox, I arranged to meet him for one of these walking tours, free of charge. The tour was a three-hour walk around the Plaza De Mayo, then down Paseo Colon towards the CGT, the Worker's Union building where they have a small museum dedicated to Eva Peron. Although both guides were young, they had a lot of knowledge shared between them. Nicolas, animated and detail oriented. Nacho (nickname for Ignacio), informal and comforting. We ended the tour with some lunch, me splitting a pitcher of beer with some other tourists. When it came time to pay, I was shocked and appalled. The tour guides had already left and paid their share, but when the two girls from Finland and the lady from Barcelona handed money over to pay, I was disturbed. No one knows how to tip. On a $62AR bill, the equivalent of $30CA for the two girls from Finland, they left $2AR pesos, 50 cents. The lady from Barcelona didn't do any better. It was rather embarrassing and insulting. Here these people are, experiencing cities to the farthest corners of the world. Traveling, living, eating, not working. Their appreciation is given in meagre pennies.
Nevertheless, I was still content that I got to see the city, although slightly exhausted from the heat and humidity. Poor Canadian can't hack it. I got home and decided I was going to chill for the night, take it easy, read, watch t.v. However, it was not in the cards. A new friend I had met on Christmas Eve message me saying they were going to hit up a Milonga, a place to dance tango. The room-comrades were hanging out with their Benito-kitty, so I decided I would love to see it. Wow, Argentines DO love to dance. Since arriving in this beautiful country, I have seen tango dances on every street corner, I guess that's how they busk here. Nevertheless, I just can't wrap my head around the moves, the rhythm, the style. It's impulsive, but it flows. At the Milonga, one that was a legitimate, non-tourist trap, everyone was dancing tango. The dancefloor filled with the young, middle-aged, old, it didn't matter. What a spectacle.
My friends and I decided to end the night with a pitcher at a bar down the street. We chatted and tried to get to know each other whilst sipping on some semi-delicious Brahma Chopp. Now, I have know people who have experienced life never being shit on by a bird. Unfortunately, my experience makes up for all of them. Sitting there, at 3AM, talking, sipping, nibbling, I got shat on. Twice. Since being in Argentina, my shit-count is up to 3, 2 being on Monday night. People keep telling me it's a sign of goodluck.
The only luck I have had so far is nothing bad has happened. I guess that counts. I love Mondays.
We left for a club, Museum, at 1-ish AM and arrived half-an-hour later, too early. We got in, a respectable $15CA cover + one free drink, and the floor was barely half-covered. We took this 'tranquil' opportunity to scope the place out. Floor to ceiling must have been 4 to 5 stories, straight up. Along the sides, balcony-like overhangs allowed those VIPs to look down on the crowd. On the ground-level, was a confusion of senses, young kids dancing and girating alongside senior citizens. I guess Argentines just love to dance. We decided to pull up some patio furniture, that's right, green plastic chairs, to sit, drink and observe. Beer was still only $3CA, even in the club. Muy nice.
We met some new friends, partied and danced the night away. Eventually, I had an epiphany of fatigue. I told the room-comrades that it was time to go, they obligingly agreeing. Obviously, there are no windows in clubs, but the fact that the bar was still serving fooled my sense into believing we were only at Museum for a couple of hours. When we emerged from the cavernous depths of clubland, mine eyes beheld daylight. Not dawn, daylight. So this is how they are able to party all night. I felt like a porteño, even though it was just for a night. Nevertheless, I needed a whole weekend to achieve some sort of alkaline balance.
Thus, for Monday, I arragned a big day. A few weeks ago I had met a guy on a bus who does walking-tours of the city-centre. Over the weekend of detox, I arranged to meet him for one of these walking tours, free of charge. The tour was a three-hour walk around the Plaza De Mayo, then down Paseo Colon towards the CGT, the Worker's Union building where they have a small museum dedicated to Eva Peron. Although both guides were young, they had a lot of knowledge shared between them. Nicolas, animated and detail oriented. Nacho (nickname for Ignacio), informal and comforting. We ended the tour with some lunch, me splitting a pitcher of beer with some other tourists. When it came time to pay, I was shocked and appalled. The tour guides had already left and paid their share, but when the two girls from Finland and the lady from Barcelona handed money over to pay, I was disturbed. No one knows how to tip. On a $62AR bill, the equivalent of $30CA for the two girls from Finland, they left $2AR pesos, 50 cents. The lady from Barcelona didn't do any better. It was rather embarrassing and insulting. Here these people are, experiencing cities to the farthest corners of the world. Traveling, living, eating, not working. Their appreciation is given in meagre pennies.
Nevertheless, I was still content that I got to see the city, although slightly exhausted from the heat and humidity. Poor Canadian can't hack it. I got home and decided I was going to chill for the night, take it easy, read, watch t.v. However, it was not in the cards. A new friend I had met on Christmas Eve message me saying they were going to hit up a Milonga, a place to dance tango. The room-comrades were hanging out with their Benito-kitty, so I decided I would love to see it. Wow, Argentines DO love to dance. Since arriving in this beautiful country, I have seen tango dances on every street corner, I guess that's how they busk here. Nevertheless, I just can't wrap my head around the moves, the rhythm, the style. It's impulsive, but it flows. At the Milonga, one that was a legitimate, non-tourist trap, everyone was dancing tango. The dancefloor filled with the young, middle-aged, old, it didn't matter. What a spectacle.
My friends and I decided to end the night with a pitcher at a bar down the street. We chatted and tried to get to know each other whilst sipping on some semi-delicious Brahma Chopp. Now, I have know people who have experienced life never being shit on by a bird. Unfortunately, my experience makes up for all of them. Sitting there, at 3AM, talking, sipping, nibbling, I got shat on. Twice. Since being in Argentina, my shit-count is up to 3, 2 being on Monday night. People keep telling me it's a sign of goodluck.
The only luck I have had so far is nothing bad has happened. I guess that counts. I love Mondays.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
troubling times lay ahead
Some, or all, of you may know who I am, where I am and what I'm doing. I have been on emotional rollercoaster, riding the curves and twists of life in Buenos Aires. I am an opinionated person, almost to a fault, but at least I have principles and stand by them.
Life has thrown me another curve-ball, in the form of a gnarling beast we call the student-loan man. He's a despicable creature, out for blood, drooling venomous secretions, always thirsty, always looking for prey.
The predatory structure of banks and state-centred institutions is coniving and scary, they have your money, they have your life, or do they? Recently, I was struck by this two-headed sea-monster, threatening my very existence of doing exactly what I want to do: nothing in Buenos Aires. A little stressed, but relatively unscathed, I am declaring war. I must find strength and channel my complete frustration that I have with NSLS. I will fight. I will not go gently into the night.
Life has thrown me another curve-ball, in the form of a gnarling beast we call the student-loan man. He's a despicable creature, out for blood, drooling venomous secretions, always thirsty, always looking for prey.
The predatory structure of banks and state-centred institutions is coniving and scary, they have your money, they have your life, or do they? Recently, I was struck by this two-headed sea-monster, threatening my very existence of doing exactly what I want to do: nothing in Buenos Aires. A little stressed, but relatively unscathed, I am declaring war. I must find strength and channel my complete frustration that I have with NSLS. I will fight. I will not go gently into the night.
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