I'm sitting and sipping my Tie Guanyin.
I should be transcribing interviews for a story due next week. Instead, I'm reading "Tea Maker" in the New York Times.
This is good tea -- in fact, one of the best variety of oolong tea. It is also expensive. I had bought it for $4.50 at lunch -- a luxury I really shouldn't have afforded myself. But then, the winds were brutal today. Any other blend wouldn't have done the trick. I needed the fortification of the "Iron Goddess" tea.
Yoko Ono wrote the piece. It is about John Lennon, of course. He would have been 70 this year. She wrote about her memory of him -- making tea for her in the middle of the night in their kitchen.
This is a good night for hot tea. This must be the fifth cup I had made out of the same bag of tea leaves. So I don't feel so guilty now. This works out to 90 cents a cup (and these days, it's hard to find even bottled water for a dollar). Tea is a great winter and holiday drink. It works just as well before, or after, the cocktails and shots... or simply on its own.
He made tea for her and they had a little tête-à-tête about whether the hot water goes in first or the tea bag. That was in 1980, before he died.
I always put the tea bag in first, and then pour the hot water in. It seems to make sense. I love watching the water seep through the tea leaves and the steam rising with the fragrance. The Tie Guanyin has an amazing fragrance. It is rich and thick with an aroma often described as fruity, but which to me is more "woody."
He had always put the tea bag in before the water. Then, one night, he told her that according to his aunt, the hot water should go in first. They had a good laugh. It was a simple moment. It probably wouldn't have been significant if he had lived. But that moment became a memory of him etched in her heart and mind after he died -- someone who made tea and laughed with her.
I don't recall ever laughing over tea. I'm usually reflective or pensive when I drink tea. For many people, tea is a serious business. The Chinese and Japanese regard the art of tea as intrinsic to high culture and perform elaborate rituals in tea ceremonies. (I really just like the pretty cups.) The English partake in afternoon tea with devotion that is almost religious. (I'm impartial to Earl Grey with scones.) The Arab culture regard the drinking of tea as the center of all social activities. (Anyone who has ever tried to buy a carpet from a souk would know.)
It was a simple act of making tea and laughing together. But it was what she remembered, because it said so much.
The art of making tea can be a complex and elaborate affair. But the act of making tea is simple. I want to make tea...and laugh.
Recipe:
1. Tea leaves and strainer OR tea bag
2. hot, boiling water
3. laughter
Take 1 and put into 2. Or, vice versa.
Add a generous dash of 3 to taste.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Another Facebook Update...updated
There was another Facebook update earlier tonight.
No, seriously. It's all over Twitter. Just go search "Mark Zuckerberg" because the world's youngest billionaire was on TV...on none other than THE 60 Minutes this time, to announce a HUGE Facebook redesign.
Wait, didn't he just make a HUGE announcement like two weeks ago? Yeah, but that one was about how Facebook is going to take over email, SMS, messages, etc. and put all your communications with that special someone in one single thread for you to trail all over cyberspace.
This announcement was going to be even bigger than the last one. Yes, I'm well aware that this is what they (i.e. social media pundits, journalists, websites, etc.) say each and every time Facebook makes an annoucement. But this time it really was going to be BIGGER.
This time, it had to do with photos. Apparently, the desginers at Facebook had decided it's time to re-emphazie the fact that Facebook is all about photos. So...they came up with a re-design to emphasize just that - photos...you know, to keep things visually interesting.
As if Facebook isn't interesting enough.
So, don't take my word for it. Here's the report from Tech Crunch: http://techcrunch.com/2010/12/05/new-facebook-profile/
And if you missed the 60 Minutes episode, here's a re-cap, courtesy of Mashable: http://mashable.com/2010/12/05/mark-zuckerberg-60-minutes-interview/
It's just about to get more interesting for 500 million of us. In the days to come, we'll be eagerly looking out for our re-designed profile pages. Until then, I should go update my Facebook status.
No, seriously. It's all over Twitter. Just go search "Mark Zuckerberg" because the world's youngest billionaire was on TV...on none other than THE 60 Minutes this time, to announce a HUGE Facebook redesign.
Wait, didn't he just make a HUGE announcement like two weeks ago? Yeah, but that one was about how Facebook is going to take over email, SMS, messages, etc. and put all your communications with that special someone in one single thread for you to trail all over cyberspace.
This announcement was going to be even bigger than the last one. Yes, I'm well aware that this is what they (i.e. social media pundits, journalists, websites, etc.) say each and every time Facebook makes an annoucement. But this time it really was going to be BIGGER.
This time, it had to do with photos. Apparently, the desginers at Facebook had decided it's time to re-emphazie the fact that Facebook is all about photos. So...they came up with a re-design to emphasize just that - photos...you know, to keep things visually interesting.
As if Facebook isn't interesting enough.
So, don't take my word for it. Here's the report from Tech Crunch: http://techcrunch.com/2010/12/05/new-facebook-profile/
And if you missed the 60 Minutes episode, here's a re-cap, courtesy of Mashable: http://mashable.com/2010/12/05/mark-zuckerberg-60-minutes-interview/
It's just about to get more interesting for 500 million of us. In the days to come, we'll be eagerly looking out for our re-designed profile pages. Until then, I should go update my Facebook status.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Standing Up For Yourself - A Lesson In Life Every Child (and Adult) Needs To Learn
"Put on your coat, Amon. Stand right there. Watch me. I'm going to demonstrate to you what Master Coles said earlier about standing up for yourself."
He slid out of his seat across from me in the booth at Uncle Julio's. Ariel, who was seated beside me, did the same. They watched as I turned around to face the booth seats next to us, behind me. I was about to stand up to the woman seated behind me. It was going to be one of the most important lessons in life for my kids.
It was a typical Saturday in Bethesda for me and the babies. Ariel had her ballet class and Amon, his Tae Kwon Do class. What was different was that Master Coles had sat the white-belters down in a row and given them a 10-minute lecture on standing up to bullies.
The parents who were watching were equally surprised as the kids. Usually, Master Coles worked his teaching of principles and philosophy into the class as he taught the moves - the blocks, the kicks and the punches. His message was clear and simple: If someone picks on you, you need to stand up to him, especially if there is no one else around and you're on your own.
"In this world, there will be people who try to push you down to make themselves feel better," he told the kids (and an audience of enraptured parents). "They think that if they step on you, they get taller. So you have to stand up to them."
When Master Coles, who has been teaching TKD for 40 years, spoke, everyone listened. It was a good lesson, all the parents agreed in hushed whispers after the class. I, for one, was very glad the Master had decided to expound on bullying, fear and standing up for oneself. Amon is painfully shy and has often encountered kids who try to ride roughshod over him. It didn't help that he was also tiny, softspoken and very bright -- the kind of kid every bully loves to pick on. From his very first incident of bruised feelings and ego, I had stressed to him the importance of standing up to bullies.
"I cannot fight your fights for you," I always said to him. "You don't have to fight him. But you need to look him in the eye, and tell him in a loud, firm voice to back off. You need to show him that you're not afraid of him. And don't be."
"And if he doesn't back off?"
"Make sure you tell the teacher or someone in charged that this boy is trying to hurt you."
"And if he hits me?"
"Then you defend yourself. Never raise your fist first, but if someone hits you, you FIGHT back. Don't ever go down doing nothing. You FIGHT back with everything you've got."
We even practiced by role playing. I played the bully, and walked him through the steps of talking back in a loud, firm voice, staring the person down, and finally blocking the punches if the other person was to raise his fist.
"And if he has a weapon -- a knife, or a gun -- you get the hell away as fast as you can, you understand?"
He nodded. I hoped it would never come down to that. I was thrilled when Amon asked to take martial arts classes. That was after watching the Karate Kid movies, both the original 1984 Pat Morita and Ralph Macchio movie, and the remake with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan, one of my personal heroes.
It has only been a few months since Amon started TKD classes with Master Coles. But I've seen his confidence grow, slowly but surely. He is still every bit the sweet, gentle, tiny "nerd" but he is a little less soft spoken now.
"There's nothing wrong in being a nerd," Master Coles told the kids. "I was a nerd growing up." I could never imagine! But I was grateful for his confession. Amon can definitely identify. We had a great discussion about Master Coles' lecture after the class. The kids wanted to eat quesadillas, so we went to Uncle Julio's.
Little did I know that the responsibility and opportunity would fall on me so soon after to walk the talk.
The woman behind me had come in with her husband and teenaged daughter towards the end of our meal. As she and her husband moved into the seat behind me, I literally felt myself propelled forward into my guacomole and sour cream. Obviously the seats were not cushioned for impact from movement.
I didn't say a thing. There wasn't a need to, because it was an inconvenience but not an act of offense on her part. Each time she moved, I felt the earth shake. Obviously, that meant she would feel my movements as well. Blame it on cheap, badly designed furnishing. I had no anger or frustration because it was clearly not a case of anyone going out of their way to annoy another person.
Just as we were finishing up our meal, I heard her raise her voice and yell, obviously intending for me to hear: "This woman needs to finish up and GET OUT OF HERE!"
That was an act of offense. Still, I chose not to engage. If she didn't have the manners to speak to me nicely, I didn't see the point of acknowledging her rudeness. Failing to get a reaction from me, she realized she had to address me directly.
"Excuse me, but you are bumping me and pushing me forward every time you move! Will you stop that?!"
I looked her straight in the eye.
"Excuse me but you are doing exactly the same thing to me each time you move. You bumped us when you got into your seats."
A lightbulb went on. You'd think that she would then have the courtesy to acknowledge the fact that I wasn't deliberately annoying her and back off.
"Well, yeah, I understand that."
No, I didn't think there was any understanding in her perspective.
"Well, then let's just both be more careful."
"Yes, let's...." I went back to the last bits of my meal and made sure my kids were done. I got the check. But I wasn't done. There was an important lesson to be learned. Some fights shouldn't be backed off from. This was one of them. I had to stand up.
My kids were watching. I turned to the woman. I addressed her: "Excuse me, we didn't mean to bump you."
She turned to look at me. She was expecting an apology. It was clear from my look that there was no remote chance of that. She gave me a nasty look and looked back down at her food, and away from me. Her daughter seated across was looking at me. She seemed embarrassed. I stood up.
"I also want you to know that I didn't appreciate your attitude in the way you talked to me. I could hear every single word you said about me having to get out of here. I have every right to be in here, as much as you do."
At this point, her husband turned and glanced sideways at me, with a look that seemed embarrassed, but really betrayed the fact that he didn't agree that I did have as much right to be in there as him.
I got out of the seat, took my kids' hands and delivered the final salvo: "So I hope you'll remember that the next time, before you tell anyone to get out of anywhere."
I walked towards the exit, all the time with my eyes still on them.
"Did you see what I did, Amon?"
"Yes, you stood up to her."
"Just like what Master Coles said to do. Did I raise my voice or my fist?"
"No."
"Yes, there wasn't a need to. But she yelled at us to get out of there. Did you hear that?"
"Yes. They looked embarrassed."
"Good. Because she had no right to tell us to get out. Firstly, she doesn't own the restaurant. We're paying for lunch, just as she is. Also, we didn't do anything wrong to be told to get out."
If anyone is thinking that I had read too much into the woman's antagonism, I will say this to your face: Bulls**t.
Her initial reaction had completely betrayed her underlying motivations. She wasn't simply annoyed by the bumping caused by my movements. If that had been purely the case, the outburst would be along the lines of: "Why does this person keep bumping the chair?!" Instead, it was that I need to get out of there. She was annoyed by the fact that I was even there at all.
Was it racially motivated? Of course! Sure, I can't prove it with empirical evidence. But let's not mince words here. Would she have been as blatantly rude if I wasn't yellow? Of course not. For whatever misguided reason, she had assumed herself to be superior to me, and hence she had the right to tell me to get out. Of course it didn't occur to her that if my movements inconvenienced her, then her movements would do the same for me. Because in her worldview, my existence didn't even figure.
So yes, this is fight that needs to be fought. This is one instance when I have to and will not back off from standing up for myself. And this is one lesson I want my kids to learn.
"Do not ever, ever let anyone tell you to get out of anywhere, Amon. You have every right to be."
The conversation had continued as we made our way into Barnes and Nobles. We were standing right in front of a stack of books on Hanukkah.
"Mom, my classmate Savier brought a menorah to class and we lit a candle together. What happened to the Jewish people?"
"The same thing that happened to us back in the restaurant. Hitler told the Jews to get out...in very bad ways. He tortured them, put them in prison camps and killed them."
"That is so wrong."
'Yes, it is."
He slid out of his seat across from me in the booth at Uncle Julio's. Ariel, who was seated beside me, did the same. They watched as I turned around to face the booth seats next to us, behind me. I was about to stand up to the woman seated behind me. It was going to be one of the most important lessons in life for my kids.
It was a typical Saturday in Bethesda for me and the babies. Ariel had her ballet class and Amon, his Tae Kwon Do class. What was different was that Master Coles had sat the white-belters down in a row and given them a 10-minute lecture on standing up to bullies.
The parents who were watching were equally surprised as the kids. Usually, Master Coles worked his teaching of principles and philosophy into the class as he taught the moves - the blocks, the kicks and the punches. His message was clear and simple: If someone picks on you, you need to stand up to him, especially if there is no one else around and you're on your own.
"In this world, there will be people who try to push you down to make themselves feel better," he told the kids (and an audience of enraptured parents). "They think that if they step on you, they get taller. So you have to stand up to them."
When Master Coles, who has been teaching TKD for 40 years, spoke, everyone listened. It was a good lesson, all the parents agreed in hushed whispers after the class. I, for one, was very glad the Master had decided to expound on bullying, fear and standing up for oneself. Amon is painfully shy and has often encountered kids who try to ride roughshod over him. It didn't help that he was also tiny, softspoken and very bright -- the kind of kid every bully loves to pick on. From his very first incident of bruised feelings and ego, I had stressed to him the importance of standing up to bullies.
"I cannot fight your fights for you," I always said to him. "You don't have to fight him. But you need to look him in the eye, and tell him in a loud, firm voice to back off. You need to show him that you're not afraid of him. And don't be."
"And if he doesn't back off?"
"Make sure you tell the teacher or someone in charged that this boy is trying to hurt you."
"And if he hits me?"
"Then you defend yourself. Never raise your fist first, but if someone hits you, you FIGHT back. Don't ever go down doing nothing. You FIGHT back with everything you've got."
We even practiced by role playing. I played the bully, and walked him through the steps of talking back in a loud, firm voice, staring the person down, and finally blocking the punches if the other person was to raise his fist.
"And if he has a weapon -- a knife, or a gun -- you get the hell away as fast as you can, you understand?"
He nodded. I hoped it would never come down to that. I was thrilled when Amon asked to take martial arts classes. That was after watching the Karate Kid movies, both the original 1984 Pat Morita and Ralph Macchio movie, and the remake with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan, one of my personal heroes.
It has only been a few months since Amon started TKD classes with Master Coles. But I've seen his confidence grow, slowly but surely. He is still every bit the sweet, gentle, tiny "nerd" but he is a little less soft spoken now.
"There's nothing wrong in being a nerd," Master Coles told the kids. "I was a nerd growing up." I could never imagine! But I was grateful for his confession. Amon can definitely identify. We had a great discussion about Master Coles' lecture after the class. The kids wanted to eat quesadillas, so we went to Uncle Julio's.
Little did I know that the responsibility and opportunity would fall on me so soon after to walk the talk.
The woman behind me had come in with her husband and teenaged daughter towards the end of our meal. As she and her husband moved into the seat behind me, I literally felt myself propelled forward into my guacomole and sour cream. Obviously the seats were not cushioned for impact from movement.
I didn't say a thing. There wasn't a need to, because it was an inconvenience but not an act of offense on her part. Each time she moved, I felt the earth shake. Obviously, that meant she would feel my movements as well. Blame it on cheap, badly designed furnishing. I had no anger or frustration because it was clearly not a case of anyone going out of their way to annoy another person.
Just as we were finishing up our meal, I heard her raise her voice and yell, obviously intending for me to hear: "This woman needs to finish up and GET OUT OF HERE!"
That was an act of offense. Still, I chose not to engage. If she didn't have the manners to speak to me nicely, I didn't see the point of acknowledging her rudeness. Failing to get a reaction from me, she realized she had to address me directly.
"Excuse me, but you are bumping me and pushing me forward every time you move! Will you stop that?!"
I looked her straight in the eye.
"Excuse me but you are doing exactly the same thing to me each time you move. You bumped us when you got into your seats."
A lightbulb went on. You'd think that she would then have the courtesy to acknowledge the fact that I wasn't deliberately annoying her and back off.
"Well, yeah, I understand that."
No, I didn't think there was any understanding in her perspective.
"Well, then let's just both be more careful."
"Yes, let's...." I went back to the last bits of my meal and made sure my kids were done. I got the check. But I wasn't done. There was an important lesson to be learned. Some fights shouldn't be backed off from. This was one of them. I had to stand up.
My kids were watching. I turned to the woman. I addressed her: "Excuse me, we didn't mean to bump you."
She turned to look at me. She was expecting an apology. It was clear from my look that there was no remote chance of that. She gave me a nasty look and looked back down at her food, and away from me. Her daughter seated across was looking at me. She seemed embarrassed. I stood up.
"I also want you to know that I didn't appreciate your attitude in the way you talked to me. I could hear every single word you said about me having to get out of here. I have every right to be in here, as much as you do."
At this point, her husband turned and glanced sideways at me, with a look that seemed embarrassed, but really betrayed the fact that he didn't agree that I did have as much right to be in there as him.
I got out of the seat, took my kids' hands and delivered the final salvo: "So I hope you'll remember that the next time, before you tell anyone to get out of anywhere."
I walked towards the exit, all the time with my eyes still on them.
"Did you see what I did, Amon?"
"Yes, you stood up to her."
"Just like what Master Coles said to do. Did I raise my voice or my fist?"
"No."
"Yes, there wasn't a need to. But she yelled at us to get out of there. Did you hear that?"
"Yes. They looked embarrassed."
"Good. Because she had no right to tell us to get out. Firstly, she doesn't own the restaurant. We're paying for lunch, just as she is. Also, we didn't do anything wrong to be told to get out."
If anyone is thinking that I had read too much into the woman's antagonism, I will say this to your face: Bulls**t.
Her initial reaction had completely betrayed her underlying motivations. She wasn't simply annoyed by the bumping caused by my movements. If that had been purely the case, the outburst would be along the lines of: "Why does this person keep bumping the chair?!" Instead, it was that I need to get out of there. She was annoyed by the fact that I was even there at all.
Was it racially motivated? Of course! Sure, I can't prove it with empirical evidence. But let's not mince words here. Would she have been as blatantly rude if I wasn't yellow? Of course not. For whatever misguided reason, she had assumed herself to be superior to me, and hence she had the right to tell me to get out. Of course it didn't occur to her that if my movements inconvenienced her, then her movements would do the same for me. Because in her worldview, my existence didn't even figure.
So yes, this is fight that needs to be fought. This is one instance when I have to and will not back off from standing up for myself. And this is one lesson I want my kids to learn.
"Do not ever, ever let anyone tell you to get out of anywhere, Amon. You have every right to be."
The conversation had continued as we made our way into Barnes and Nobles. We were standing right in front of a stack of books on Hanukkah.
"Mom, my classmate Savier brought a menorah to class and we lit a candle together. What happened to the Jewish people?"
"The same thing that happened to us back in the restaurant. Hitler told the Jews to get out...in very bad ways. He tortured them, put them in prison camps and killed them."
"That is so wrong."
'Yes, it is."
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
World Aids Day 2010
This is a feature I wrote in early 2009 as my final paper for a Global Health Reporting class. It was published in the newsletter of an NGO in Asia. I decided to re-post this as a reflection on World Aids Day. The way we've dealt with HIV/AIDS since the 80s is a reflection of how far we have come as a collective human race, from fear and prejudice to understanding, action, compassion and inclusion.
Pukaar January 2010 Issue 68
Waking up to AIDS in Asia...
Facing the fact that men are having sex with men
By Rebecca Lim
Shivananda Khan wakes up every morning in Lucknow, India, and goes to work angry. He is mad that in some Asian countries, only one in 10 MSM (men-who-have-sex-with-men) have access to HIV/AIDS services.
“It is a sense of righteous anger, like when you see someone beaten up for trying to speak the truth,” said the founder and chief executive of Naz Foundation International (NFI), a non-profit organization helping MSM groups in South and Southeast Asia develop sexual health and HIV prevention, support and care services.
Over in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Andrew Tan goes to work behind a mask. Being a HIV positive MSM and Chinese in a predominantly Malay and Muslim country, he keeps his status and other life as an advocate and volunteer counselor for HIV/AIDS a secret from his co-workers, friends and even some of his family.
“You’ll get double discrimination,” he said. “Even within the gay community, you’ll be considered an outcast...a pariah of a pariah group!”
He sits on the board of advocacy group, the Asia Pacific Coalition On Male Sexual Health (APCOM), which Mr. Khan chairs and also founded.
Both men share a common concern about the gravity of the HIV/AIDS epidemic for MSM in Asia. Here, barriers to prevention, education and treatment are deeply rooted in cultural norms, religious beliefs and social stigma.
Dr Massimo Ghidinelli, the World Health Organization (WHO) Regional Adviser in HIV/AIDS and Sexually Transmitted Infections, said at a conference last year, that in many Asian countries, national strategic plans for HIV/AIDS do not include interventions for MSM and transgender persons.
He added that targeted preventive measures are reaching only 1% of the MSM population in Asia of an estimated 10 million men.
“Action needs to be taken now if a major increase in HIV/AIDS cases is to be averted,” he warned.
According to UNAIDS, an estimated 4.9 million people were living with HIV in Asia in 2007, and 300,000 died from AIDS related illnesses, making this the region with the second highest numbers next to Sub-Saharan Africa.
In an independent study published by TREAT (Therapeutics Research, Education, AIDS Training) Asia in 2006, HIV rates among MSM in Phnom Penh, Cambodia was reported to be at 14.4%, 16.8% in the state of Maharashtra in India, and 28.3% in Bangkok, Thailand. The report also predicted that MSM in Asia will “face a crisis more devastating than that experienced by gay men in the West during the epidemic’s earliest years” if the trend of infections is not stemmed.
Facing stigma and discrimination
One of the key reasons underpinning the lack of HIV/AIDS prevention and services for MSM is social prejudice and discrimination, said Mr Khan.
This deep-seated stigma stems from the social dynamics of sex between men in Asia, and the cultural pressure on males to marry and build a family, he added.
“We have a double jeopardy situation,” he explained.
Many MSM in Asia do not view themselves as homosexual as long as they are playing the dominant or penetrative role. A large number also have sex with women and end up getting married. They continue to have casual (and potentially unsafe) sex with men, putting the spouse and children at risk of HIV infection.
A study in Mumbai, India revealed that 25% of HIV positive men are married MSM. In Beijing, China, 29% of MSM respondents in a survey said they also had sex with women. “ There is a whole spectrum of MSM and this is almost invisible for many people in Asia who think that being gay means dressing up like a woman,” said Mr Tan.
While the “masculine and publicly married” men fall on the left of the spectrum, he added, the transgender fall on the right. In between, there are different groups, including those who are comfortably gay, and do not necessarily identify with gender roles.
For the men playing the receptive or feminine role, the stigmatization is even greater. Many are transgender sex workers or young men turning to sex work to fund drug addiction. While some intervention programs, such as the condom use campaign in Bangkok, have been successful, there is still exploitation and unsafe practices.
“It’s no secret,” he added. “Some men are willing to pay extra not to use condoms.”
More than half of MSM surveyed in the major cities of Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou in China admitted to unprotected sex with multiple partners. This is the same in Vietnam, where 69% of MSM surveyed in Hanoi and 63% in Ho Chi Minh City engage in unprotected sex. In Jakarta, Indonesia, 65% of male sex workers and 53% of other MSM do not use condoms regularly.
The situation is compounded by the fact that sex between men is illegal in 11 out of 23 Asian countries surveyed in the TREAT study. In countries such as Malaysia, Pakistan and Bangladesh, religious groups and authorities condemn homosexual activities. The fear of social persecution and legal prosecution make many unwilling to get tested or treated for HIV.
“I have come across cases where a doctor slapped someone because he was a homosexual,” said Mr. Khan. “Some doctors report people who go to them for treatment to the police.”
Mr. Tan is also seeing a trend of more men being infected at a younger age in Malaysia. “The youngest man I’ve counseled is 19,” he said. “He had all these high hopes of becoming a pilot but all of a sudden, his world crumbled.”
In the 80s, when AIDS meant death, he added, people took protection seriously. Now, some, especially the younger generation, may think that “it’s a matter of popping a few pills” if they should be infected.
“It’s not like taking vitamins!” he stressed. “You have to take responsibility, adhere to the treatment for the rest of your life, and prevent other people from being infected by you.”
Facing the need for intervention
It is estimated that without further intervention, HIV infection rates among MSM in Asia could double year-on-year in the next 20 years, said Mr. Khan.
Funding is also a major issue, added Mr. Khan. Even the most developed economies in Asia, such as Singapore and Japan, have made little investment in HIV services. International aid is not likely to increase, given current economic sentiments. He noted that last year, the Gates Foundation donated US$ 200 million to India and US$ 50 million to China in HIV funds.
“We will need another US$ 3 billion,” he added.
The impact on economic growth is perhaps a way to engage Asian countries in facing up to the HIV/AIDS crisis. The World Bank estimates that when the prevalence of HIV/AIDS reaches 8% (as is the case with 13 African countries), the cost to economic growth is about 1% a year.
Thankfully, there are success stories such as Cambodia’s. The country has seen a steady drop in HIV prevalence rate from 2.8% in 1998 to 0.9% in 2006 and 0.7% last year and aims to further decrease the rate to 0.6% by next year. The government has allocated US$45 to 50 million in annual funds to achieve this. It is estimated that more than 90% of the country’s at risk populations, including MSM, are aware of HIV/AIDS and 90% of sex workers use protection. Some 93% of the country’s HIV positive people have access to treatment and support services.
On a personal level, Mr Tan’s story illustrates that while it may be tough to change old beliefs and cultural practices, there are ways to overcome stigma.
Since being diagnosed with HIV in 1994, his constant support had been his boyfriend of 25 years (who is not HIV positive).
When he first told his family that he was seeing a man, they thought it was a passing phase. He continued to do his part as “a good son” by making an effort to be home for family meals and events. Eventually, his parents invited his boyfriend to their home for dinner on the eve of Chinese New Year.
“Since then my parents have referred to my boyfriend as their godson and he is with us at all family events,” he added.
It is stories such as these that keep advocates such as Mr Khan going.
“I like what Barrack Obama said about hope,” he said. “We live in hope. If we lose hope, we will drown.”
Rebecca Lim, a journalist from Singapore, is currently pursuing a masters degree at Georgetown University in Washington D.C. This article was produced last year as part of her coursework in global health reporting.
Pukaar January 2010 Issue 68
Waking up to AIDS in Asia...
Facing the fact that men are having sex with men
By Rebecca Lim
Shivananda Khan wakes up every morning in Lucknow, India, and goes to work angry. He is mad that in some Asian countries, only one in 10 MSM (men-who-have-sex-with-men) have access to HIV/AIDS services.
“It is a sense of righteous anger, like when you see someone beaten up for trying to speak the truth,” said the founder and chief executive of Naz Foundation International (NFI), a non-profit organization helping MSM groups in South and Southeast Asia develop sexual health and HIV prevention, support and care services.
Over in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Andrew Tan goes to work behind a mask. Being a HIV positive MSM and Chinese in a predominantly Malay and Muslim country, he keeps his status and other life as an advocate and volunteer counselor for HIV/AIDS a secret from his co-workers, friends and even some of his family.
“You’ll get double discrimination,” he said. “Even within the gay community, you’ll be considered an outcast...a pariah of a pariah group!”
He sits on the board of advocacy group, the Asia Pacific Coalition On Male Sexual Health (APCOM), which Mr. Khan chairs and also founded.
Both men share a common concern about the gravity of the HIV/AIDS epidemic for MSM in Asia. Here, barriers to prevention, education and treatment are deeply rooted in cultural norms, religious beliefs and social stigma.
Dr Massimo Ghidinelli, the World Health Organization (WHO) Regional Adviser in HIV/AIDS and Sexually Transmitted Infections, said at a conference last year, that in many Asian countries, national strategic plans for HIV/AIDS do not include interventions for MSM and transgender persons.
He added that targeted preventive measures are reaching only 1% of the MSM population in Asia of an estimated 10 million men.
“Action needs to be taken now if a major increase in HIV/AIDS cases is to be averted,” he warned.
According to UNAIDS, an estimated 4.9 million people were living with HIV in Asia in 2007, and 300,000 died from AIDS related illnesses, making this the region with the second highest numbers next to Sub-Saharan Africa.
In an independent study published by TREAT (Therapeutics Research, Education, AIDS Training) Asia in 2006, HIV rates among MSM in Phnom Penh, Cambodia was reported to be at 14.4%, 16.8% in the state of Maharashtra in India, and 28.3% in Bangkok, Thailand. The report also predicted that MSM in Asia will “face a crisis more devastating than that experienced by gay men in the West during the epidemic’s earliest years” if the trend of infections is not stemmed.
Facing stigma and discrimination
One of the key reasons underpinning the lack of HIV/AIDS prevention and services for MSM is social prejudice and discrimination, said Mr Khan.
This deep-seated stigma stems from the social dynamics of sex between men in Asia, and the cultural pressure on males to marry and build a family, he added.
“We have a double jeopardy situation,” he explained.
Many MSM in Asia do not view themselves as homosexual as long as they are playing the dominant or penetrative role. A large number also have sex with women and end up getting married. They continue to have casual (and potentially unsafe) sex with men, putting the spouse and children at risk of HIV infection.
A study in Mumbai, India revealed that 25% of HIV positive men are married MSM. In Beijing, China, 29% of MSM respondents in a survey said they also had sex with women. “ There is a whole spectrum of MSM and this is almost invisible for many people in Asia who think that being gay means dressing up like a woman,” said Mr Tan.
While the “masculine and publicly married” men fall on the left of the spectrum, he added, the transgender fall on the right. In between, there are different groups, including those who are comfortably gay, and do not necessarily identify with gender roles.
For the men playing the receptive or feminine role, the stigmatization is even greater. Many are transgender sex workers or young men turning to sex work to fund drug addiction. While some intervention programs, such as the condom use campaign in Bangkok, have been successful, there is still exploitation and unsafe practices.
“It’s no secret,” he added. “Some men are willing to pay extra not to use condoms.”
More than half of MSM surveyed in the major cities of Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou in China admitted to unprotected sex with multiple partners. This is the same in Vietnam, where 69% of MSM surveyed in Hanoi and 63% in Ho Chi Minh City engage in unprotected sex. In Jakarta, Indonesia, 65% of male sex workers and 53% of other MSM do not use condoms regularly.
The situation is compounded by the fact that sex between men is illegal in 11 out of 23 Asian countries surveyed in the TREAT study. In countries such as Malaysia, Pakistan and Bangladesh, religious groups and authorities condemn homosexual activities. The fear of social persecution and legal prosecution make many unwilling to get tested or treated for HIV.
“I have come across cases where a doctor slapped someone because he was a homosexual,” said Mr. Khan. “Some doctors report people who go to them for treatment to the police.”
Mr. Tan is also seeing a trend of more men being infected at a younger age in Malaysia. “The youngest man I’ve counseled is 19,” he said. “He had all these high hopes of becoming a pilot but all of a sudden, his world crumbled.”
In the 80s, when AIDS meant death, he added, people took protection seriously. Now, some, especially the younger generation, may think that “it’s a matter of popping a few pills” if they should be infected.
“It’s not like taking vitamins!” he stressed. “You have to take responsibility, adhere to the treatment for the rest of your life, and prevent other people from being infected by you.”
Facing the need for intervention
It is estimated that without further intervention, HIV infection rates among MSM in Asia could double year-on-year in the next 20 years, said Mr. Khan.
Funding is also a major issue, added Mr. Khan. Even the most developed economies in Asia, such as Singapore and Japan, have made little investment in HIV services. International aid is not likely to increase, given current economic sentiments. He noted that last year, the Gates Foundation donated US$ 200 million to India and US$ 50 million to China in HIV funds.
“We will need another US$ 3 billion,” he added.
The impact on economic growth is perhaps a way to engage Asian countries in facing up to the HIV/AIDS crisis. The World Bank estimates that when the prevalence of HIV/AIDS reaches 8% (as is the case with 13 African countries), the cost to economic growth is about 1% a year.
Thankfully, there are success stories such as Cambodia’s. The country has seen a steady drop in HIV prevalence rate from 2.8% in 1998 to 0.9% in 2006 and 0.7% last year and aims to further decrease the rate to 0.6% by next year. The government has allocated US$45 to 50 million in annual funds to achieve this. It is estimated that more than 90% of the country’s at risk populations, including MSM, are aware of HIV/AIDS and 90% of sex workers use protection. Some 93% of the country’s HIV positive people have access to treatment and support services.
On a personal level, Mr Tan’s story illustrates that while it may be tough to change old beliefs and cultural practices, there are ways to overcome stigma.
Since being diagnosed with HIV in 1994, his constant support had been his boyfriend of 25 years (who is not HIV positive).
When he first told his family that he was seeing a man, they thought it was a passing phase. He continued to do his part as “a good son” by making an effort to be home for family meals and events. Eventually, his parents invited his boyfriend to their home for dinner on the eve of Chinese New Year.
“Since then my parents have referred to my boyfriend as their godson and he is with us at all family events,” he added.
It is stories such as these that keep advocates such as Mr Khan going.
“I like what Barrack Obama said about hope,” he said. “We live in hope. If we lose hope, we will drown.”
Rebecca Lim, a journalist from Singapore, is currently pursuing a masters degree at Georgetown University in Washington D.C. This article was produced last year as part of her coursework in global health reporting.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Sniper or Prankster? Bringing Up Kids In A World of Terror
We had our first lockdown experience today. For an hour, I was kept inside the school auditorium with about 200 other parents -- familiar faces I see everyday, coming to pick our kids up from school, just past 3 in the afternoon. The children were kept in their classrooms with their teachers.
I say "first" because I will not be surprised if there are similar experiences in the future, even as I hope not to have to go through another one.
I thought it was strangely quiet when I was walking down Whitehaven from Wisconsin Avenue towards the school. It was 3.20 pm. Normally, there would be groups of parents, mostly mums, gathered around exchanging parenting war stories or just pleasantries. It was even stranger, since it was a beautiful day in the leafy neighborhood in Georgetown. My instincts told me something was up but it didn't feel like anything could go wrong under that bright sunshine. In the next five minutes, the kids, in their red and navy uniforms, should be spilling out the door to their respective pickup spots. The younger children should have been in the little playground out front by now.
Something was not right. I checked my Blackberry again (it's my watch these days). Just then, one of Amon's classmates' mum came up to me. She too had just arrived and was puzzled. Then, we saw the principal and vice-principal standing at the door, waving to us and a few other parents to go inside.
"Are we in a lockdown?"
"Yes, we are. We received a phone call threatening to harm the children. We think it is likely a prank, but the police are investigating."
The whole situation was handled very well and with composure. Inside, parents gathered around in groups, chatting. But nobody was panicking or worried. The biggest concern everyone had was that they would get a parking ticket. Just write to parking enforcement and quote the police activity, I said. But yes, it would be a pain to have to go through the process.
Half an hour into the lockdown, some parents were starting to get annoyed, some worried. The first question - "Is it a bomb?" - was diffused very quickly. No, of course not, otherwise we would all be evacuated instead of locked down. Some people had seen the police vehicles outside. Everyone was still very patient and calm. The kids, we were told, weren't told of the situation. They were being kept blissfully engaged in activities in their classes. Throughout, we were told repeatedly it was likely a prank, but not what the threat (or prank) was about.
Finally, one hour later, we were told the children could be dismissed. They came to the auditorium in the most orderly manner, like it was just another assembly. Parents were called to pick up their kids by class, starting with the young ones in Nursery and Reception (3 to 5 year-olds).
We left by another exit, under police supervision. Once outside, I saw the number of police vehicles lining Wisconsin and the surrounding streets. It didn't feel right. Ariel was of course her usual happy, chirpy self. Amon, older and more sensitive, had picked up on the vibes.
"Just what exactly is going on, Mum?"
That was what I wanted to know too. I had tweeted, checked Twitter for various possible hashtags, but the information wasn't out there yet (which may have been a good thing if there was a sniper waiting...yes I found out much later in the evening that it was a sniper threat, but not from the school...from Twitter and TBD).
"We will talk about that in the car. Right now, I need both of you to be alert, hold my hand and walk as quickly as possible straight to the car. NO running, no playing, just pay attention and walk."
In the car on 35th, I saw more police vehicles and an ABC 7 news van and camera on sticks. The drive home was uneventful except for a little more traffic than usual, and this conversation that I decided I needed to have with the kids. I explained to them that someone had called the school threatening to harm them.
"Are you both scared?"
"No," they chorused. But they wanted to know why someone would do something like that.
"Some people are not right in the head, and they hurt other people because they're angry, or they want media attention. Some people are terrorists. Do you know what that means?"
"Yes. Terror means fear."(Amon)
"Right, so fear is their weapon. They threaten people to make us afraid of them, so they can be powerful."
"So if we're not afraid, then they would be vulnerable." (Amon)
"That's right! So the most important thing is not to be scared. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful and alert too."
"If he tried to hurt me I will ROAR at him."
OK, that's not really going to work. But Ariel got the spirit right. I was pleased with the kids, and myself, feeling like I had created a positive learning experience out of the situation.
At 6 pm, I emailed the principal, thanking him for a great job getting everyone out safe, and asking for more information. He emailed back saying he is working on the information for parents. Just after 6, the ABC 7 report was updated on TBD.com. I didn't see it, only because I left for dance class. I saw it at 10 pm, the minute I got home and sat down to trawl Twitter for updates. I still hadn't heard from the school. I sent the principal another email with the link.
I wasn't comfortable with the conclusion that it was purely a prank, unless the police had established that beyond doubt. Under most circumstances, I would be the last person to make a mountain out of a molehill. But we live in a post 9/11, post Columbine world now. I don't think I need to remind anyone about the DC area sniper. In my childhood, the probability of this being a prank would have been far greater than not. The reverse is now true for my kids.
Kids today can't grow up blissfully unaware the way we did. They should still be able to feel safe in school. But they also need to know that sometimes, bad things can happen even in safe places, and there are people out there who are "sick in the head" as Amon calls them.
"I feel really sick now," S, a friend and one of the locked down parents, said to me as we were leaving with the kids earlier.
It is indeed very ill -- all of it. A person really has to be sick in the head (and heart) to hurt children. It is really sick that such sick people has easy access to deadly weapons and common knowledge on how to create deadly weapons. It is even more sick that each and every sick act of this nature seem to encourage and perpetuate more copycat sick acts. And unfortunately, there is no cure for this disease. Despite all our technical advances, medical know-how and intellectual discourse, the human race has not discovered how to cure hatred and the need for bloodshed.
As of now, I still do not have any information from the school with regards to any conclusions from the police investigation and whether it would be safe to send my kids back to school in the morning. But then, what answers am I waiting for? I already know it. There are no answers. It almost doesn't matter if it was a sniper or prankster. We can't keep our children at home every day, living in fear. The deadliest weapon, more so than guns and bombs and crazies, is fear.
So I have to set aside my own fear, and simply trust that the kids will be fine when I drop them off at school tomorrow, and the day after, and the next. There is no instruction manual on bringing up kids in a world of terror. We're all learning as we go along.
I say "first" because I will not be surprised if there are similar experiences in the future, even as I hope not to have to go through another one.
I thought it was strangely quiet when I was walking down Whitehaven from Wisconsin Avenue towards the school. It was 3.20 pm. Normally, there would be groups of parents, mostly mums, gathered around exchanging parenting war stories or just pleasantries. It was even stranger, since it was a beautiful day in the leafy neighborhood in Georgetown. My instincts told me something was up but it didn't feel like anything could go wrong under that bright sunshine. In the next five minutes, the kids, in their red and navy uniforms, should be spilling out the door to their respective pickup spots. The younger children should have been in the little playground out front by now.
Something was not right. I checked my Blackberry again (it's my watch these days). Just then, one of Amon's classmates' mum came up to me. She too had just arrived and was puzzled. Then, we saw the principal and vice-principal standing at the door, waving to us and a few other parents to go inside.
"Are we in a lockdown?"
"Yes, we are. We received a phone call threatening to harm the children. We think it is likely a prank, but the police are investigating."
The whole situation was handled very well and with composure. Inside, parents gathered around in groups, chatting. But nobody was panicking or worried. The biggest concern everyone had was that they would get a parking ticket. Just write to parking enforcement and quote the police activity, I said. But yes, it would be a pain to have to go through the process.
Half an hour into the lockdown, some parents were starting to get annoyed, some worried. The first question - "Is it a bomb?" - was diffused very quickly. No, of course not, otherwise we would all be evacuated instead of locked down. Some people had seen the police vehicles outside. Everyone was still very patient and calm. The kids, we were told, weren't told of the situation. They were being kept blissfully engaged in activities in their classes. Throughout, we were told repeatedly it was likely a prank, but not what the threat (or prank) was about.
Finally, one hour later, we were told the children could be dismissed. They came to the auditorium in the most orderly manner, like it was just another assembly. Parents were called to pick up their kids by class, starting with the young ones in Nursery and Reception (3 to 5 year-olds).
We left by another exit, under police supervision. Once outside, I saw the number of police vehicles lining Wisconsin and the surrounding streets. It didn't feel right. Ariel was of course her usual happy, chirpy self. Amon, older and more sensitive, had picked up on the vibes.
"Just what exactly is going on, Mum?"
That was what I wanted to know too. I had tweeted, checked Twitter for various possible hashtags, but the information wasn't out there yet (which may have been a good thing if there was a sniper waiting...yes I found out much later in the evening that it was a sniper threat, but not from the school...from Twitter and TBD).
"We will talk about that in the car. Right now, I need both of you to be alert, hold my hand and walk as quickly as possible straight to the car. NO running, no playing, just pay attention and walk."
In the car on 35th, I saw more police vehicles and an ABC 7 news van and camera on sticks. The drive home was uneventful except for a little more traffic than usual, and this conversation that I decided I needed to have with the kids. I explained to them that someone had called the school threatening to harm them.
"Are you both scared?"
"No," they chorused. But they wanted to know why someone would do something like that.
"Some people are not right in the head, and they hurt other people because they're angry, or they want media attention. Some people are terrorists. Do you know what that means?"
"Yes. Terror means fear."(Amon)
"Right, so fear is their weapon. They threaten people to make us afraid of them, so they can be powerful."
"So if we're not afraid, then they would be vulnerable." (Amon)
"That's right! So the most important thing is not to be scared. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful and alert too."
"If he tried to hurt me I will ROAR at him."
OK, that's not really going to work. But Ariel got the spirit right. I was pleased with the kids, and myself, feeling like I had created a positive learning experience out of the situation.
At 6 pm, I emailed the principal, thanking him for a great job getting everyone out safe, and asking for more information. He emailed back saying he is working on the information for parents. Just after 6, the ABC 7 report was updated on TBD.com. I didn't see it, only because I left for dance class. I saw it at 10 pm, the minute I got home and sat down to trawl Twitter for updates. I still hadn't heard from the school. I sent the principal another email with the link.
I wasn't comfortable with the conclusion that it was purely a prank, unless the police had established that beyond doubt. Under most circumstances, I would be the last person to make a mountain out of a molehill. But we live in a post 9/11, post Columbine world now. I don't think I need to remind anyone about the DC area sniper. In my childhood, the probability of this being a prank would have been far greater than not. The reverse is now true for my kids.
Kids today can't grow up blissfully unaware the way we did. They should still be able to feel safe in school. But they also need to know that sometimes, bad things can happen even in safe places, and there are people out there who are "sick in the head" as Amon calls them.
"I feel really sick now," S, a friend and one of the locked down parents, said to me as we were leaving with the kids earlier.
It is indeed very ill -- all of it. A person really has to be sick in the head (and heart) to hurt children. It is really sick that such sick people has easy access to deadly weapons and common knowledge on how to create deadly weapons. It is even more sick that each and every sick act of this nature seem to encourage and perpetuate more copycat sick acts. And unfortunately, there is no cure for this disease. Despite all our technical advances, medical know-how and intellectual discourse, the human race has not discovered how to cure hatred and the need for bloodshed.
As of now, I still do not have any information from the school with regards to any conclusions from the police investigation and whether it would be safe to send my kids back to school in the morning. But then, what answers am I waiting for? I already know it. There are no answers. It almost doesn't matter if it was a sniper or prankster. We can't keep our children at home every day, living in fear. The deadliest weapon, more so than guns and bombs and crazies, is fear.
So I have to set aside my own fear, and simply trust that the kids will be fine when I drop them off at school tomorrow, and the day after, and the next. There is no instruction manual on bringing up kids in a world of terror. We're all learning as we go along.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
...and all ye need to know
"A cake! Look, mama!"
I looked in the direction Ariel was pointing at. It was a cake alright -- a huge, round chocolate cake, unassuming in its basic chocolate-ness. A middle-aged woman was hunched over the cake, arranging candles in a circle around it, and in the middle, she planted an '8' candle and a '0' one.
"Someone's having a birthday!" I watched as she lit the candles and carried the cake towards the table of 10 to 12 people in the other side of the cafe.
"An 80th birthday!" Trust Amon to be the one who always picks up and emphasizes the detail. (Aside: He would make a really good journalist, with his ability to hit on the key point and express it in short, succinct sentences all the time. And he always has a kicker.)
"Yes...wow...isn't that something? To celebrate your 80th birthday here at Fallingwater!"
It was a rhetorical question. But both kids nodded their heads as we watched the party sing the birthday song. They sang rather quietly. The clapping at the end of the song was as genteel and softly resounding as it would be in a private recital. It was a small group of mostly seniors, but their joy was filling up the room in a big way, that could easily drown out any rowdy bar bash.
Wow...80. I had never contemplated that number until then. I was almost halfway there, I found myself thinking. Wouldn't it be nice if I could have my 80th here too, I continued to muse. And that's the way it goes once one starts getting wistful thoughts. Wow...Amon would be...50! He'll probably be a paleontologist...or architect (those being his two big loves now).
"Mummy why aren't you eating your pickle?" Nothing like an Ariel rebuke to snap me out of my daydreams.
But dreams are good..."we are such stuff as dreams are made on" right? I have another whole lifetime to live before I get to 80. And yes, I think I would make it a point to try and celebrate that 2nd round of 40 back here, at one of the most beautiful houses and remarkable architectural landmark in the world, by a man whom I deeply admire for his genius in blending art and nature, the organic and the technical.
I can't remember exactly how and when the love affair with Frank Lloyd Wright started. But it definitely had something to do with a missed calling. Before I took the road most traveled, collecting 'A's on my way to a typical college education, I had wanted to run off and pursue a passion for design. I had spent hours among the design, art, interiors and architecture shelves of libraries and one day, I saw a brochure for a design school in the UK.
But when I was in school, nobody ever told me that I could do anything I wanted to do, and be whatever I wanted to. I was told to shut up, listen, raise my hand when I wanted to answer (not ask) the question, study, get 'A's and collect all the certificates that come with the major examinations. So, no, I didn't explore that route and didn't think that it was in my power to do so.
So, as I took the well trodden path, I had paused at various points to ponder what I would have become if I had the courage to veer 'off-course' way back when. I think I would have been an interior designer, with a mission of helping people create aesthetically pleasing spaces to live and be happy in. There is much to be said about beauty in life, and a life of beauty. It's not about makeup and clothes (although I love those, too) but about that little piece of your soul that feels free and uplifted. Some find it in art, some in music, some in nature, some in a 20-foot putt, etc. But everyone has that capacity to find it.
At 80, what more could I really ask for, then, than to be surrounded by so much love, joy and beauty? And to be in a healthy state of mind, body and soul to appreciate all that.
"Beauty is truth, and truth beauty." - that is all
Ye on earth know, and all ye need to know
I looked in the direction Ariel was pointing at. It was a cake alright -- a huge, round chocolate cake, unassuming in its basic chocolate-ness. A middle-aged woman was hunched over the cake, arranging candles in a circle around it, and in the middle, she planted an '8' candle and a '0' one.
"Someone's having a birthday!" I watched as she lit the candles and carried the cake towards the table of 10 to 12 people in the other side of the cafe.
"An 80th birthday!" Trust Amon to be the one who always picks up and emphasizes the detail. (Aside: He would make a really good journalist, with his ability to hit on the key point and express it in short, succinct sentences all the time. And he always has a kicker.)
"Yes...wow...isn't that something? To celebrate your 80th birthday here at Fallingwater!"
It was a rhetorical question. But both kids nodded their heads as we watched the party sing the birthday song. They sang rather quietly. The clapping at the end of the song was as genteel and softly resounding as it would be in a private recital. It was a small group of mostly seniors, but their joy was filling up the room in a big way, that could easily drown out any rowdy bar bash.
Wow...80. I had never contemplated that number until then. I was almost halfway there, I found myself thinking. Wouldn't it be nice if I could have my 80th here too, I continued to muse. And that's the way it goes once one starts getting wistful thoughts. Wow...Amon would be...50! He'll probably be a paleontologist...or architect (those being his two big loves now).
"Mummy why aren't you eating your pickle?" Nothing like an Ariel rebuke to snap me out of my daydreams.
But dreams are good..."we are such stuff as dreams are made on" right? I have another whole lifetime to live before I get to 80. And yes, I think I would make it a point to try and celebrate that 2nd round of 40 back here, at one of the most beautiful houses and remarkable architectural landmark in the world, by a man whom I deeply admire for his genius in blending art and nature, the organic and the technical.
I can't remember exactly how and when the love affair with Frank Lloyd Wright started. But it definitely had something to do with a missed calling. Before I took the road most traveled, collecting 'A's on my way to a typical college education, I had wanted to run off and pursue a passion for design. I had spent hours among the design, art, interiors and architecture shelves of libraries and one day, I saw a brochure for a design school in the UK.
But when I was in school, nobody ever told me that I could do anything I wanted to do, and be whatever I wanted to. I was told to shut up, listen, raise my hand when I wanted to answer (not ask) the question, study, get 'A's and collect all the certificates that come with the major examinations. So, no, I didn't explore that route and didn't think that it was in my power to do so.
So, as I took the well trodden path, I had paused at various points to ponder what I would have become if I had the courage to veer 'off-course' way back when. I think I would have been an interior designer, with a mission of helping people create aesthetically pleasing spaces to live and be happy in. There is much to be said about beauty in life, and a life of beauty. It's not about makeup and clothes (although I love those, too) but about that little piece of your soul that feels free and uplifted. Some find it in art, some in music, some in nature, some in a 20-foot putt, etc. But everyone has that capacity to find it.
At 80, what more could I really ask for, then, than to be surrounded by so much love, joy and beauty? And to be in a healthy state of mind, body and soul to appreciate all that.
"Beauty is truth, and truth beauty." - that is all
Ye on earth know, and all ye need to know
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Don't Grow Up So Fast....
Amon just turned eight. And he figures he's old enough to have his own Facebook page. I said 'no' not because I felt like I needed to assert my fast diminishing parental control, but because 1. kids could do with more real socializing before social networking and 2. the digital space is not where kids should be allowed to roam free without strong parental guidance.
I know two 11-year-old girls with Facebook profiles, under the guidance of their mums, of course. And they are just a handful of many kids out there below 13 (the minimum age as stipulated) that have Facebook profiles. They're both great kids - smart, sweet girls. And they know how to be sensible on the net. One of them doesn't even put her photo on her page. And I told her: "That's great. Keep it that way. Do you know what happened to this 11-year-old girl who got trolled?" She didn't. And I'm not surprised.
I posted this on my FB page some time ago, but here it is again for those who missed it. It's about how an 11-year-old got her life turned upside down on the net. (http://gawker.com/5589103/how-the-internet-beat-up-an-11+year+old-girl) Last thing I read about her, she was under police protection for death threats.
It's not funny. My kids...and yours...are growing up in a very different era, when connectivity is the norm and apart from grappling with the usual socialization of adolescence and teenage angst, they also have to deal with a whole different realm of existence we never had to - their cyber life. I consider myself pretty much an early adopter of technology and all things digital. I'm a gadget geek at heart -- from the Palm (remember that?) to the first iPod and every other new cell phone fad. I was one of those who embraced the dot.com wave (remember that?) but luckily had a regular job with a bricks-and-mortar (remember that term?) institution to go back to. But with my kids...I'm somewhat at a loss.
I believe in balance in my approach to everything in life. That's one of the fundamental bec2basics beliefs in my philosophical makeup. But it's tough walking the fine line between embracing the openness of this cyber world, and letting my kids do their growing up by trial and error, versus enforcing the filters and boundaries to ensure their safety. There is no right answer. I'm certainly not alone in this struggle.
I believe in being at the cutting edge of change and technology. But I also embrace 'old world' values. As much as I recognize that my kids belong to their generation, I would also like them to have a solid understanding and appreciation of mine, and those that came before me. I tried to hold off wii as long as I could. I caved last winter when we got snowed in for weeks. This summer, my kids were away from me for two weeks. When I saw them again, they had picked up the iPhone and iPad. On the 20+ hour flight back from Singapore, I caved and handed over my iPod touch with all the apps they like (yes, Cooking Mama is one of them) loaded via the wifi at the airport.
I don't believe in mollycoddling kids. But I believe in limits and boundaries. Otherwise I'm not doing them a favor in learning how to live as responsible adults. So 30 mins of wii each time; no wii on school days; 15 to 20 mins on the net for leisure (homework is online now, for parents whose kids are not in school yet); and 15 to 20 mins each time on the iPod/iPhone apps. Amon has an email add (on yahoo! not google) and a blog, but uses both under supervision of an adult (mostly me).
So far it's working out well. The kids understand the limits and they have a wide range of interests that aren't digital -- good ol' stuff like Legos and Trivial Pursuit, soccer and ballet. But I shouldn't count my chickens. In two years' time, the boundaries will shift. Maybe, even in a year's time.
It may sound like a cliche but the kids are really growing up much faster these days. I believe exposure to media and the cyber world has a lot to do with it. Does anyone remember having a concept of future time when they were four? Well, this is a conversation between my 4 and 8-year-olds.
Ariel: "I like makeup. But I think I'm a little young to use it."
Amon: "Right! You're too young. Maybe when you're 13."
Ariel: "I think when I'm 10."
I will always remember what my domestic helper said to me when that 4-year-old was born. She was holding the little raisin in her arms. She said: "She's beautiful, m'am. But you know, very soon she'll grow up. You'll look at them sleeping one day and wonder how come they're so long."
How right she was. And it didn't take long for that to happen. Dear kids, don't grow up so fast, will you?
I know two 11-year-old girls with Facebook profiles, under the guidance of their mums, of course. And they are just a handful of many kids out there below 13 (the minimum age as stipulated) that have Facebook profiles. They're both great kids - smart, sweet girls. And they know how to be sensible on the net. One of them doesn't even put her photo on her page. And I told her: "That's great. Keep it that way. Do you know what happened to this 11-year-old girl who got trolled?" She didn't. And I'm not surprised.
I posted this on my FB page some time ago, but here it is again for those who missed it. It's about how an 11-year-old got her life turned upside down on the net. (http://gawker.com/5589103/how-the-internet-beat-up-an-11+year+old-girl) Last thing I read about her, she was under police protection for death threats.
It's not funny. My kids...and yours...are growing up in a very different era, when connectivity is the norm and apart from grappling with the usual socialization of adolescence and teenage angst, they also have to deal with a whole different realm of existence we never had to - their cyber life. I consider myself pretty much an early adopter of technology and all things digital. I'm a gadget geek at heart -- from the Palm (remember that?) to the first iPod and every other new cell phone fad. I was one of those who embraced the dot.com wave (remember that?) but luckily had a regular job with a bricks-and-mortar (remember that term?) institution to go back to. But with my kids...I'm somewhat at a loss.
I believe in balance in my approach to everything in life. That's one of the fundamental bec2basics beliefs in my philosophical makeup. But it's tough walking the fine line between embracing the openness of this cyber world, and letting my kids do their growing up by trial and error, versus enforcing the filters and boundaries to ensure their safety. There is no right answer. I'm certainly not alone in this struggle.
I believe in being at the cutting edge of change and technology. But I also embrace 'old world' values. As much as I recognize that my kids belong to their generation, I would also like them to have a solid understanding and appreciation of mine, and those that came before me. I tried to hold off wii as long as I could. I caved last winter when we got snowed in for weeks. This summer, my kids were away from me for two weeks. When I saw them again, they had picked up the iPhone and iPad. On the 20+ hour flight back from Singapore, I caved and handed over my iPod touch with all the apps they like (yes, Cooking Mama is one of them) loaded via the wifi at the airport.
I don't believe in mollycoddling kids. But I believe in limits and boundaries. Otherwise I'm not doing them a favor in learning how to live as responsible adults. So 30 mins of wii each time; no wii on school days; 15 to 20 mins on the net for leisure (homework is online now, for parents whose kids are not in school yet); and 15 to 20 mins each time on the iPod/iPhone apps. Amon has an email add (on yahoo! not google) and a blog, but uses both under supervision of an adult (mostly me).
So far it's working out well. The kids understand the limits and they have a wide range of interests that aren't digital -- good ol' stuff like Legos and Trivial Pursuit, soccer and ballet. But I shouldn't count my chickens. In two years' time, the boundaries will shift. Maybe, even in a year's time.
It may sound like a cliche but the kids are really growing up much faster these days. I believe exposure to media and the cyber world has a lot to do with it. Does anyone remember having a concept of future time when they were four? Well, this is a conversation between my 4 and 8-year-olds.
Ariel: "I like makeup. But I think I'm a little young to use it."
Amon: "Right! You're too young. Maybe when you're 13."
Ariel: "I think when I'm 10."
I will always remember what my domestic helper said to me when that 4-year-old was born. She was holding the little raisin in her arms. She said: "She's beautiful, m'am. But you know, very soon she'll grow up. You'll look at them sleeping one day and wonder how come they're so long."
How right she was. And it didn't take long for that to happen. Dear kids, don't grow up so fast, will you?
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