Second Acts

This article is from the Huffington Post and "That Girl," Marlo Thomas, about folks who got a late start in realizing their dreams.

Inspiring.

Enjoy.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marlo-thomas/creative-outlets-second-acts_b_2542942.html

College Bound

This article is from Edutopia and it provides tips for college bound kids of color, who will be attending predominantly white schools.  Please pass this on.  It's good stuff.

http://www.edutopia.org/blog/predominantly-white-campus-danielle-moss-lee?utm_source=SilverpopMailing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=012313%20enews%203rd%20active%20openers&utm_content=&spMailingID=5485995&spUserID=MjcyNjkzMTM4NzcS1&spJobID=63912529&spReportId=NjM5MTI1MjkS1

Snotty

True confession.

Today I was snotty to someone . . .

A cashier with a dumb request.

I know she didn't make the rule, but she was enforcing it.

Still, when it was my turn, I could have been gracious and kind to her, but instead I chose to be snotty.

Yes, I was tired, and not feeling great, but . . .

that is no excuse for my behavior.

I cringe when I see how many of the locals treat folks, but today I wasn't any better.

Shame on me.

Later, when I got home, I realized I had walked out of the school building without my computer, so I had to take the hourlong roundtrip back to get it.

Coincidence . . .

or was it a case of reaping some of those negative vibes I'd sown?

Life is about choices.

Here's hoping I'll have sense enough to make the right ones in the future.

Four Years Ago

Four years ago today, a group of us were in Washington, DC to witness the inauguration of President Obama.

What a spectacular time that was!

Not one of us gathered thought we'd live to see a black president, so this was monumental beyond measure.

What was also extraordinary were the masses of people, and in those masses were large numbers of old black folks . . . many moving slow and some being pushed in wheelchairs.  But with that, you could see steely determination in their eyes, as they willed their bodies to cooperate, to be a part of this history making day.

Honestly, as we witnessed the grueling campaign, many of us were concerned about the safety of Candidate Obama and his family.  For those of us who lived through the assassinations of the 60's, this was a real concern.

How thrilled we were that he won, and that we were there, in the flesh, bearing witness to history.

The day was frigid.  It was absolutely the coldest day I've ever experienced.  The wind was howling, but we were too excited to consider shelter and the warmth we'd find therein.  We had come this far, and we were determined to see it through.

The day did not disappoint.

It was phenomenal, in every way.

Being a part of the millions gathered, moving in waves to find that perfect spot, was incredible.

Although we were far away, our eyes were transfixed on the screens, and our responses to the words spoken, moved through the crowds like ripples of water.

What a day!

Now, on this day, it happens again.

To all the people there, recognize what an honor and privilege it is, and bask in the glory of it all.

To those not there in the flesh.  That's OK, too.  Recognize, no matter where you are, that this truly is a special day.

The fact that this second inauguration is happening on Martin Luther King's Day, is the icing on the cake.

Here's wishing President Obama, his family, and we the citizens of this great land, a wonderful four more years.

Lies and Seduction

First the lies.

I encountered someone today who is a master liar.

A Lance Liar.

The lies just rolled off their tongue like fast moving water rushing over waterfalls. Half truths and innuendoes were used masterfully.  It was clear, the lying was a skill that had been honed from years of practice and use.

It was frustrating to deal with, but at times, it was entertaining to watch, wondering what kind of lies would be tumbling out of their mouth next.

How do you deal with the Lance Liar?

Now the seduction.

Months ago, during one of my trips, I had an intriguing conversation with a Muslim fellow about the traditional dress for women, and how it was more conservative in my world.  That led us to the burka, the cloth that overs the face, with just the eyes exposed.  My new friend said it would be better if the women's faces were completely covered because the eyes peeking out from a burka were extremely seductive.

Now, is it seductive because that's all the Muslim guys have to work with, as everything else on the woman is covered?

Would men from other cultures agree with this?

After chatting with him, it got me to thinking . . .

White guys are usually boob guys because that seems to be the area that many white girls have been blessed in.

Black guys, on the other hand, tend to be booty guys because most of us have been endowed with that gift.

Our Asian brothers seem to be OK with neither the boobs nor the booties, as their women tend to lack both.

You think maybe I missed my calling?

I should have been an anthropologist?

I know, by now you're shaking your head thinking, I have way too much time on my hands.

Maybe so, but I think I'm on to something.

What do you think?

Worth the Read

This is a lovely story from the Washington Post.  It's long, but well worth the read.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/earl-smith-is-the-man-behind-a-military-patch-that-president-obama-prizes/2013/01/18/deec2444-5c13-11e2-beee-6e38f5215402_story.html

Another Good Movie

I was glad to see the beginning of the weekend, and raced from school to treat myself to a movie.  The one I was anxiously awaiting was "Django Unchained" which opened today.

For those of you who might not be movie buffs, it's the new Quentin Tarantino one starring Jamie Foxx and Christopher Waltz, with Jamie playing a freed slave turned bounty hunter.

Of course, there has been controversy.

Anytime Tarantino makes a movie, you can be sure there will be those who object to something in it.  This one is no different.

The biggest issue is the language used.  It didn't bother me a bit.  Maybe I'm anesthetized to the use of certain language, or maybe it's because it didn't seem out of place in the context here.

Anyway, I left the movie cheering.

Yes, cheering.

OK.  Maybe not out loud, but inside I was hoopin' and hollerin'.

Why, you ask?

Because this is the first movie I've seen, or have heard about, that tackles the brutality of slavery.  It's the first movie that didn't try to justify it or minimize it.  The terrorism that it was, was on full display.  And with it, a true, bonafide hero.

We have a black ex-slave bounty hunter to cheer on.

And it felt good rooting for this guy.

Was the brutality awful?  No doubt.  My eye were covered through most of it.

Was some of it over the top?  Absolutely.

Believable?  Maybe.

There has been much written about this movie, but one article caught my attention because it asked the question, "Could it have been made by a black director?"  I don't think so, for a couple of reasons.

First, it's really hard for the masses to hear someone black going on and on about slavery.  The thinking too often is, we should get over it.  This was a long time ago, and it's time to move on.

Secondly, it would have been difficult for a black director to find the funding to pull this off.  Why?  See reason number one.

So, the next best thing, was Tarantino, the honorary Negro, to do the bidding.  But it's interesting to note, that it wasn't a script conjured up by black folks, it was Tarantino himself who made that leap.  I hear he did the same kind of thing in re-imagining Hitler and his regime during World War II, in the writing and making of "Inglourious Bastards."  I didn't see that one.

I'm guessing this makeshift review and endorsement, humble though it is, might be a surprise to some.  Honestly, it even surprised me how much I liked this movie.

So, take it for what it's worth.

See the movie.

Or not.

I enjoyed it enough for both of us.

Back in the Groove

We've been in school only a week-and-a-half since the winter break, but it seems much longer.  I was in Abu Dhabi for an all-day meeting that was promoted as urgent.  It didn't come close to living up to that billing, but it was good to see folks I haven't seen since last year.  We used to have this meeting twice a month, but this is the first one this school year.

I've been crunching numbers and doing some data analysis for the last few hours, and my brain is fried.  I don't miss much about my old school district, but their student data base was light years ahead of what we're using here, so yes, I miss that.

I'm too tired to go on.

Good night to me.

Good morning to you.

Good Movie

I was reading an article in USA Today, entitled "You've Seen the Movie, Now Experience the Place," and discovered that I had already visited one of the places mentioned - Jaipur, India.  So, I decided to watch the movie, "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."

The movie did what I couldn't.  It showed the sights in vivid color, and the cacophony of sounds in this lovely city.

One of the characters' husband dies after 40 years of marriage, and she does something she's never done, travel and live on her own.  She even writes a blog about her experiences.

Sound familiar?

It stars Judi Dench and Maggie Smith, in their wrinkled glory, and is well worth the look.

Embassy

After almost not being allowed to enter Kenya because my passport only had two vacant visa pages, and you need three, I made it a point to take care of this promptly.  I made an appointment and drove to the US Embassy in Abu Dhabi this afternoon.

As I was driving there, I envisioned special treatment, maybe even a red carpet (OK, that was probably wishful thinking) once I identified myself as a US citizen.

Well, my imagination was a lot richer than my experience.

Allow me to explain.

I had the GPS coordinates, so I found it with no trouble.  In fact, the area is home to many embassies.  The first one I saw was for Palestine.  This may be the only place in the world that recognizes it as a country.  Then there was the one for Turkey, and then the very next modern looking structure, which stood out from the rest, was the one for the US. 

Security was tight.  You had to have an appointment to enter the building.  There were security guards at both of the gates on the street.  They directed me to a parking lot across the street.  When I walked onto the premises, I was told to go to a nondescript door, where there was another guard.  We were only allowed in one person at a time, or one family at a time. Once in, all bags were screened.  I was allowed to take my wallet with me, but my purse had to be left at the counter, along with my phone, which had to be turned off.  

Then I went through another small waiting area, on my way to the building I needed to visit.  

Side note - I was wearing a necklace that I bought in Kenya from one the Masai Village women.  The female security guard in this waiting area, was from Kenya, and recognized that it was made by the Masai.  She asked if I was Kenyan. We had a nice, brief chat about my visit to her homeland.

When I left there, I walked down a path with bushes, at least six feet high, that were along both sides of the walkway, so you could only see in front of you and behind you.  When I arrived at the next door, I was buzzed in, given a number, and told to have a seat.

Special treatment.  

Not even.

Red carpet.

Only in my dreams.

This place . . . our place . . . our embassy - reminded me of the holding area for families visiting prisoners at Corcoran Prison, near Bakersville, CA, that I visited on occasion.

It was dreary. . . 

With rows and rows of hard chairs . . .

And even more security guards.

Absolutely nothing about this place was inviting.

There was good news though.

I was able to get 48 pages added to my passport while I waited.  It took about 45 minutes.  

Of course, I used that time to people watch.  I was intrigued by the number of Arab folks, including a fair number of Emiratis, who were there for visas.  I'm guessing they can't get the visas at the airport when they arrive in the US, as is the custom with many countries.

Anyway, I was a happy camper walking out of there with my hefty passport in hand.

I was hungry, so I decided to find the nearest mall, to get something to eat.  

Side note 2 - One of the coolest things about mall parking lots here is there are red and green lights above each parking space.  Red if it's occupied, green if it's available.  It makes searching for a spot much easier.

Side note 3 - When you have a traffic violation, you get an SMS on your phone with the nicest message.  It's something like, "You have committed a traffic violation in Abu Dhabi today.  Please kindly obey the traffic rules."  Well, I had gotten quite a few of these messages, but I didn't realize they were the same as tickets.  I discovered this when I went to renew my car registration this week.  The bill was crazy high. High enough to have paid for my next trip.  

So, needless to say, I was very conscious of my speed, going and coming.  Usually I'm more conscious going.  By the time I'm on my way back, I'm just tired and want to get home. Today, I played soft, soothing music, and paid attention to the needle.

Final point on this - the traffic cameras are hard to see.  They are located in the median, between the palm trees.  Usually I don't see them until I'm passing them, and it's too late to react, or more accurately, too late to slow down.

Anyway, that was my day today.

Hope that your's will be productive and ticket-free, too.

Proud Grandma

Milu's thinking, "This is the life."

Zadie asked, "What is it Daddy?"

Root Canal

Today after work I went to the dentist.  He took one look at my aching tooth, and declared I needed a root canal.  Having been through this procedure before, several times in fact, I knew the pain associated with the procedure would pale in comparison to what I was feeling when I walked in his office.

We didn't have insurance when I was growing up, so we only went to the health professionals as a last resort. And although that was not the issue once I was grown and married, that mindset of only going to the doctor after all of the home remedies had failed, was ingrained.  It's only now, that I realize how much of what I'm dealing with, particularly in the dental arena, could have been prevented with proper care.

My new mantra is . . . an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

So, let me encourage you -

Stop reading.

Make the call . . . to the doctor, dentist, optometrist, therapist . . . whoever you need to see, to take care of yourself.

Remember, this encouragement is not just for you.  I need this message most of all.

Lydia

If she had lived, she would be 30 years old.

Our daughter, Lydia, was born on October 26, 1982.

Frank was still in the Navy and we had orders to the Philippines.

In my fifth month of pregnancy, during a routine ultrasound, it was discovered through the amount of amnionic fluid that was being produced, that there was a problem with her kidneys.  The Navy knew they didn't have the medical services needed for a high risk pregnancy and birth in the Philippines, so Frank's orders were delayed and we stayed in Maryland through her birth.

I had a c-section with Ben, so we knew I would have another with this baby.  It was scheduled and Lydia was delivered.  All of 6 lbs. 7 oz, born a month premature.

It was then discovered that she had six major medical issues, all of which could have potentially been corrected with surgery, expect one.  She was born with one kidney, and that one was malfunctioning.

Ben was a year old, staying with my mom back at our apartment.  She was so good with him.  At 13 months old, she taught him how to salute and say "sister."

We were hospitalized two hours away at Bethesda Naval Medical Hospital, where I was on the ward, and Lydia was in the neonatal intensive care unit.

The most critical babies were kept nearest the front door, which is where her crib was.  I was discharged after a week, and when I went back to the hospital to see her, she was not up front where she had been.  I panicked, until I was directed to her, as she had been moved to the back of the room.

As much as we prayed and cried and wished for her recovery, it was clear when she was about ten days old, that she would not make it.  I should say, it is clear now, but then, even as she lost weight with each passing day, we were still hopeful that she would pull through.

On day 14, on my way back home after being with her all day, my mom got the call that she had passed away.  I was heartbroken, but I was grateful that the last time I saw her, she was alive.

We had a funeral service.  It was a blur.

Family and friends tried to soothe me by pretending that nothing happened, when all I wanted to do was scream that she had lived, and to remember her, and talk about her.

People deal with death differently.  I know now folks were doing what they thought was best.

After a couple of months, her headstone was placed on her burial plot.  We went to see it.  Without a doubt, it was one of the hardest days of my life.  Even harder than the funeral.  Somehow that headstone, with her name, her birthdate and the day she died, made it all too final.

No mother should ever have to bury her child.

The doctors advised us to wait at least a year before attempting to get pregnant again, but I knew I needed to be pregnant right away, or I would have been too afraid later on.  And so, less than a year later, Frankie was born.  Also premature, but otherwise healthy.

Thank God.

Remembrances

It was January 5, 1977 that I met my ex-husband.  Thirty-six years ago today.

Funny the random things you remember.

January 2nd is the birthday of a classmate that I haven't seen in almost 40 years. Yet every year, I remember her birthday.

Why do these random things stick in our heads, when other more pertinent stuff, is not nearly as easy to recall?

Who knows?

Of course, anytime I think about my ex-husband, I'm reminded of the need to forgive.  Everyday.  Every time my thoughts drift that way.

When you've gone through a difficult time, it's natural to want to draw a line in the sand and declare, I'm right, and you're wrong.  And that may be true.  Or maybe not. But holding on to the negative stuff only hurts you/me.  I speak from much experience.

So, as I've encouraged you/me many times before in this venue, let me say it again . . . let it go.  Whatever "it" is.  It's not worth being stuck in the land of negativity, watching the world pass you/me by.

Forgive 'em.  No matter what.

No matter how ugly, how mean, how rude, how insensitive, how nasty, how thoughtless or how petty they are, or have been . . .

Forgive 'em.

Then watch you life morph into more than you could have imagined.

Remember . . . it's a choice.

Choose to let go and LIVE!

OK.

End of sermon.

Amen.

More Kenya Videos

Note Mount kilimanjaro in the background

Our treat for the day . . .

Seeing these marvelous animals up close

Kenya Videos

It has taken me a minute to work around the video upload issues.  Please let me know if you have any problems viewing these.  Thanks!

Masai Village Welcome

Masai warriors making fire

Women . . . and the Pain We Endure for Beauty

As seen in the Huffington Post.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-k-friedman/aging-gracefully-after-50-brazilian-wax_b_2375373.html

Happy New Year!

I'm writing this on New Year's Eve.  I can hear the music, especially the rhythmic drums as they set the stage for the celebration.  People were gathered in the bar, opting to drink first, then eat.

Since it has been decades since I've seen the new year arrive, I thought, no sense in changing that now.  Besides, somewhere in the world it is already 2013.

2013.  Can you believe it?  I can remember like it was yesterday when we rolled into the year 2000 and what a big deal that was.  And now.  Now we're into the second decade of the millennium.  Crazy how fast time is flying.

We went to see the animals at Amboseli National Park this morning early, and then again late afternoon.  The treat was seeing two male lions from afar, then they moved closer, until they crossed the street right in from of us.  That made our day.

Tomorrow right after breakfast, we leave for our journey back to Nairobi.

I've missed posting, and I have especially missed the Internet, but I wouldn't trade this experience for the world.

The Kenyans that I met were so warm and welcoming.  They all greeted me/us by saying "make yourself at home," and you get the impression that they really meant it.  They seemed especially excited to see someone who looked like them, but was not from Africa.

Side note - Sorry that I have posted these daily writings late.  It's been a flood, I know.  Read what you can.  Check out the pictures, and move on.   I promise not to be mad at you.

Side note 2 - I inquired about visiting the American Embassy here, but was told it is way out of the city,  after is was bombed by Al Qaeda in 1998, along with the one in Tanzania.  It was rebuilt fortress-like to protect it, and the people who work there.  I decided to wait and visit the one in Abu Dhabi.

Side note 3 - All vehicles entering the hotel were checked for bombs by a guard at the gate, with a long mirror extending under the car.  This happened in New Delhi, too.

Side note 4 - There were several check points along the way, with spiked strips across the highway that were manned by armed police or soldiers.  We were told they were checking for illegal cargo coming in the country from Tanzania.

Side note 5 - Huge trucks transport everything throughout the country, as the railway system is non-functioning.  Most of the roads were two-lane, so weaving in and out of them along the road as we passed them, was colorful.  

There is a city tour of Nairobi that is supposed to happen later this morning.  Then we head to the airport for our night flight home.

Finally, I have video of the ride along the way back to Nairobi, but it has "disappeared."  Here's hoping I will discover where it's saved on my computer, to share it with you later.

As always, thanks for sharing this with me.

Herb were planted along the walkway at the lodge.

This is in Amboseli National Park.
The views were breathtaking.

A young girl carrying a baby on her back.

Kenya's version of a bodega, at a gas station.

I've seen this a lot.
These are large bottles, maybe water bottles,
getting readied to be carted away.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

Ok, we haven't seen any lions yet, and there are no tigers or bears here, but there were plenty of other delightful critters.

We saw a menagerie of animals - baboons, hyenas, donkeys, water bucks, gazelles, and pigs. We also saw herds and herds of elephants, gliding along. They're incredibly graceful for as big as they are.  A large group passed right in front of our van, crossing the street to get to one of the swamps, which is their water supply. We were told they will spend the day there, then return to the forest areas to sleep. What is amazing is that they know where they're going.  I would need GPS!

On our way back to the lodge, we saw a huge solitary elephant, which was a male. The large males do not travel in packs.  The herds we saw earlier were made up of mommies, babies, and young males.  Once the males are grown, they don't travel with the pack.

The pictures didn't begin to capture the beauty of park and the animals that make it their home.  

Beautiful view of Mount Kilimanjaro, which is in Tanzania,
about 10 miles from where we were.

A herd of elephants crossing the road in front of us.

A wildebeest

A buffalo

A hippo

A male ostrich; females are tan

Yes!  Lions crossing the road in front of us

Another view of Mount Kilimanjaro

One more

Giraffes near the roadside

Zebras near the road, but ran when we got close.

I have wonderful video clips, but I'm having trouble uploading them.  I hope to resolve the issue when I get back home.

More soon.

Masai Village

When we arrived at the lodge, we had lunch, checked into our rooms, and we were asked to be back up front a couple of hours later, as we would be visiting a Masai Village.

When we arrived at the village, there were ladies lined up to greet us in song and dance.  The young men joined them with a jumping dance.  Everyone had on red colorful outfits.  The color red is used in welcoming and in weddings.

We're being given instructions by this warrior

The Masai people lined up to greet us

After the greeting in dance, we all squatted in prayer before we began our tour of the village.

Side note - Most Masai women have shaved heads.  Others have very short haircut. It is their custom for women not to have long hair.

Side note 2 - All of the Masai people are branded on both cheeks beginning at six years old.

He was my guide.
Note that his cheeks are branded.

The Masai people are nomadic, and live a very primitive life.  This village had 150 people, made up of a chief, with ten wives, and all of their offspring.  The adult child visit other tribes to find mates, then the men bring their new wives back to their village.

The huts are built by the women.  It takes about two months to complete one.  It is made out of tree branches, making up the frame, and is covered in cow dung.  The houses are in a circle, with a large, open area in the middle.  This is where they keep their cows, which are vital to their existence.  Their is a barrier between where the cows are kept and the houses, made of cut bushes, to keep the cow from getting too close at night while they sleep.  Some of the warriors (men), stand guard at night.

Kids playing in front of their homes

Close-up of a home

From Wikipedia.  I wanted to get this right.
The structural framework is formed of timber poles fixed directly
into the ground and interwoven with a lattice of smaller branches,
which is then plastered with a mix of mud, sticks,
grass, cow dung and human urine, and ash.
The cow dung ensures that the roof is water-proof. 

In the morning, the cows are moved to pastures to eat.  The Masai people use everything on a cow, including the cow's blood.

The meat is used to eat.  The hide is used as bed coverings, and the bones are used to make things to sell.  They are dependent on these sales to help support the families.

The boys/men use their spears and bow and arrows, to shoot the cows in the jugular, where they drain about a litter of the cows' blood.  The cows' renewed blood supply is believed to make them healthier.

The Masai people then add milk to the blood and drink it.  It helps to build endurance on the long walks with the herds, and generally it is believed to help to keep them strong and healthy.

Although nomadic by nature, the village we visited has been there for five years.  A school was built for them that serves seven villages, and because of the desire for the children to be educated, they have stayed put.  One of our guides was a volunteer teacher.

There is an outhouse for the village, and a pumped water supply.  The women carry the water the short distance in buckets to their homes.  There is no electricity. Light and heat are provided by the campfire they make inside the huts.

Me with two warriors

This is inside one of the homes.
I told the guy there was no way he could stand upright inside,
and he proved me wrong.

I asked the kid who was my guide, if he ever desired to leave this lifestyle, and he immediately said no.  He said we like our life as is and don't want to change it. Interestingly, he had been educated away from the village by Catholic missionaries. Even though some leave for school, they almost always come back to this simple life.

I just returned from lunch at the lodge, where I noticed one of the servers had the branded cheeks.  I asked him if he was a Masai, and he confirmed that he was.  I asked him if he was "cheating" by working outside his village, and he said it was allowed and that their were about 30 of them working at the lodge, although they weren't all from the same village.

Side note 3 - There is a medicine man in each village, who attends to the medical needs of the people.  He is able to address about 80% of their needs with local herbs, with the other 20% needing attention at the area hospital.

They are fascinating people.