Riveting Post

Not mine, the one linked below of the atrocities of rapist/priests of the Catholic Church.  It is fitting, given word of the pending resignation of Pope.

http://dish.andrewsullivan.com/2013/02/04/nostra-maxima-culpa/

Language Acquisition

An intriguing TED Talk on language.

True confession . . . I'm not sure I understood much of it, but it was fascinating nonetheless.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/deb-roy/the-birth-of-a-word_b_2639625.html

Bald Heads, Labor Camps & Immigrants

It is rare to see a guy with a bald head.  In fact, seeing one today reminded me of just how rare it is.

Maybe it's because most of the guys I see working are young, 20-30 years old.  But the older guys tend to have heads full of hair, too.

Maybe it's their nationality.  Most of the ex-pat men are from India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, etc. . . . our darker Asian brothers.

Maybe it's because their heads were shave as infants, which is a custom of many of these countries, including here.  The results are folks with really full, thick hair.

Of course, my observations do not include the Emiratis, as their heads, for both men and women, are covered with scarves, so we never see their hair.  Every now and then, if a guy has long hair, it peeks out.  And a few of the women will have bangs, and you can see those, but it's rare.  The ladies' faces are usually covered from just above their eyebrows, to just below their mouths.  Some Arab/Muslim women wear a tight head wrap, with another scarf on top of that, usually a different color. These are pinned down and stay put.  Most of the women just wrap a scarf around their head, but it slips, so they re-wrap it throughout the day.  Personally, having to deal with that, would be annoying to me.

Side note - Most of the ex-pat men live in labor camps.  They are located throughout the city.  They are cramped quarters, with many sharing the living space.  They are transported to work via large white school buses.

Side note 2 - There was a local deadly accident with one of the buses a couple of days ago.  A large truck, heavy with building materials, hit a bus, trapping many of the men, resulting in 24 deaths.  This was the worst traffic accident in UAE history. The men were all ex-pats, 16 from Bangladesh.

Many sacrifices are made, by people all over the world, in search of a better life.

Isn't that how the US came to be?

We, a land of immigrants, have now decided we don't want any more?  How do we slam the door that others held wide open for us?

We're better than this.

Here's hoping the pending legislation will reflect that welcoming spirit to all who land on our shores, wherever they come from.

He Thinks!

Great response by Kareem Abdul Jabbar to an article he wrote about the HBO show, "Girls."  This is from the Huffington Post "Black Voices."

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kareem-abduljabbar/kareem-abdul-jabbar-girls-review_b_2615824.html?utm_hp_ref=black-voices&ir=Black%20Voices

Lest We Forget

From the Huffington Post, "Black Voices."

1968 Olympics - Tommy Smith & John Carlos

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/02/02/black-history-month-photo_n_2606091.html#slide=2055901

Gumbo

Today I made a gumbo that turned out great.  That's no easy feat for me.  Even with the roux mix, which simplifies the process considerably, I still have managed to mess it up.

But not today.

Today, this one is perfect.

It has lots of green onions, dried shrimp, which really enhances the flavor, and lots of skinless, boneless chicken.

For those of you who might be unfamiliar with gumbo, it's a cross between soup and stew.  It has the consistency of a broth, with the variety of ingredients like a stew. The roux is the key to a successful gumbo.  It is typically made by browning flour and oil together until it turns a deep brown.  This process requires constant stirring, because it can and does burn very quickly if unattended.  Then you fill the pot up with water.  I added green onions, dried shrimp (usually found in Asian markets), and chicken.  You can also add fresh shrimp, sausages, okra, and anything else that suits your fancy.  You bring all of this to a boil, then let it simmer for a couple of hours or until the meat is "falling apart" tender.

Voila!

That's it!

Grab a bowl of rice, and pour the gumbo over it.

Yummy!

It's especially nice when it's cold outside, but in Southeast Texas (where I'm from) and Southern Louisiana, it's served all year long, even in the hot, humid summers.

I looked online for a recipe to share, but most of them included things I don't use, like white or yellow onions (I use green onions or scallions), garlic (Never!  I can't stand the smell of it), celery, and tomatoes (nope and nope).

But this is what makes this dish unique.  It's easy to make it yours by adding or deleting ingredients.

Experiment.  Have fun with it.

But do try it.  It's worth the effort.

Bon appétit!

Kenya, the New Silicon Valley?

This article, about the advances in mobile phone technology in Kenya, caught my eye.  It's from The Daily Beast.

http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2013/01/28/africa-s-mobile-tech-boom.html

You?

Tonight I started to write about how tired I am, but that was just making me feel even more tired.

So, instead, tell me . . .

How are you?

What's happening in your world?

As always, thanks for taking this journey with me.

Your blogging buddy.

Hodge Podge

Random thoughts are filling me head.

Nothing new, right?

Our week of winter is over.  We're back to the mid-80's.

A crazy day at work, always leads me to a map, to decide on my next trip.  Today was one of those days.  I did lots of searching, but no plans yet for spring break. Initially, I intended to go back to the US to meet my newest grand baby, but June looks like a better time for everyone.

Speaking of grand babies, I love that I get to enjoy having girls through my boys. What a treat!  Being a grandma is the best!  I'm even OK with Frankie vetoing my choice of the name for myself . . . G-Faye.  He said it sounded like a porn name, so Grandma Faye it is.

It's a title I proudly wear.

Brrrrrrr!

It's cold.

I'm bundled up in two robes, fuzzy socks, and I have a space heater on.

OK.  It's only in the 50's, which really is not that cold, but my apartment is made out of some material that retains the cold.  In fact, at most times, it's colder in my apartment than it is outside.

So, compared to the frigid air in New York, we're basking in the sun, but . . . really, to us, here and now . . . it's cold.

This weather is similar to what it was last year when I arrived.  I thought it was wonderful.  What a difference a year makes.

Here's to a heat wave coming our way.

Note the date.

Remind me that I said this when the temperature is 120+.

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.