Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Baghdad - Photo Gallery - Pictures, More From National Geographic Magazine

Baghdad - Photo Gallery - Pictures, More From National Geographic Magazine

This is a very nice photo gallery, seeing the rebirth of this blighted, ancient city. Worth checking out!


And while I'm at it: let's say you want to understand more about the MidEast/North Africa. What to do?

TV / Movies
The big channel here is 2M, and I'm sure they have programs with French subtitles... if you're Francophone -compatible.


Books
that I've read and would recommend to others:

THE CAIRO TRILOGY by Naguib Mahfouz
NINE PARTS OF DESIRE by Geraldine Brooks. This one is considered biased, I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing all the time, but there's good portraiture.
READING LOLITA IN TEHRAN by Azar Nafisi. This is eyeopening in the sense of, you get to see it from

These are good, I've heard:

NO GOD BUT GOD by Reza Azlan
MY UNCLE NAPOLEON


Music



Possession and Hemispheres by Lily Afshar



My Iranian-Turkish-American friend wrote saying this brought him back to his childhood in Tehran.

Saharawi music
TINARIWEN - the thing guaranteed to find a welcome home on your iPod



I'll be sure to come back and update this over the next 2 weeks, make it more comprehensive.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Overheard on Facebook




MIKE D: saw goats climbing trees near Marrakesh today. I don't understand.
AD-ROCK : argon oil!
MCA: ? what kind of goats or trees were these?
MIKE D: they were white billy goats in what may have been olive trees, but I'm still unclear as to how they climbed. or if some Moroccans just put them there since it was by the road.
AD-ROCK: they're argon trees - read up on it - that's how the nuts are harvested and made into oil
MIKE D: what?! no wonder argon oil is so expensive.
AD-ROCK: yeah exactly, the goats regurgitate it and then they process it from there - super weird!
MIKE D: wow, I love this country.


---



I gave these people monikers to (needlessly?) protect their identity. The last line is one strongly evocative of Calvin and Hobbes to me.


And while we're at it:



Friday, June 17, 2011

''French, misguided American Girls and the other options out there''



Yes, the posters in high school said, the promised land has it all, all the splendor of life missing from ittle-bitty Jackson, Tennessee:

-Wine as a way of life, cheese as a dessert, fine art and people wanting to look at it, shopping and the vespas to help lug back the loot

Populating this land and filling it with the passion, love and romance you're missing are European dudes and dudettes somehow able to be both sensitive without being stale, cool without being clique-y; beautiful beaches and balconies and the associated Starcrossed Lovers and the Consumptive Geniuses chronicling them (or their own) ecstastic excesses. People that hold Baudelaire up just as high as they do the Clash.

But not only that, these posters say, you also get :

-world-renowned literature, cuisine, fashion, public transportation... the list goes on. Brigitte Bardot and Serge Gainsbourg -types on each corner.

AND, miraculously enough it's true. I've seen it with my own eyes. Kissed them lips! Of course, I'd say, Jackson Tennessee has many of those things, too, so long as you know where to look. If I've been to an Iranian feast there, I figure there's a great deal more hidden among the enormous walls of the gated communities and elsewhere than is apparent to the eye. But the point of what I'm writing today is, the question to ask yourself is: How do you get meaningful and worthwhile access to that Utopia?

And that matter of access becomes important when you're 13 and you're choosing which of the two you want to study, Spanish or French. You're a high school student and you want to experience the aforementioned things, too. SO to help you decide you visit the classroom. The Spanish homeroom has posters too but the portraits of Che, Frida and Frida's Man are missing that Euro-chic ... too strong of a whiff of revolution and socialism. You're looking for indulgence.

So you head to the French classroom. And it's all right there. You decide, this is the one for me. And, all across the US, most girls seem to sign up for French, dreaming of Bordeaux and baguettes. Most guys go for an easy grade, and a few are aware that Latin America has its own treasures worth pursuing, so they sign up for Spanish.



Having been there and done that, take a look at your French teacher. He/she's gotten access to the Continent, she's an insider. But don't be fooled: wave bye to her/him, go back down the hall and sit down at the front of the classroom there. The Spanish class is where you want to go. Then, study it hard so that when you go to college, you'll have a great base to learn the one you really want: Italiano.


Why not French? Cut to the chase, right? Shortest path between two points is a straight line. Well, that's a complicated question, but everything I said before, all those great provincial things somehow miraculously happens to be part of the Italian panorama, too, not just the French one. And, luckily, the people there are much more willing to share access to that lifestyle.

Lots of American high school girls have worked hard to master the language, to adopt France as their sovereign guide for living their life the European way, and most of them never get the satisfaction promised to them. Language-wise, people seem to flounder somewhere between Intermediate to Advanced and never are able to superate* that. Or, say you do, but you discover the dirty secret, that often it's not the sexy beautiful romantic gorgeous language that you'd heard it was. MY issue has been more, I've learned from nonnative people who have studied both that a person can be good in French or in English but not both. Excelling at one comes at the cost of the other. That is closely related to the same problem that has haunted me, of how it's not removed quite far enough from English for it to be able to stick.

Similarly, the social aspects of trying to get access:

You're walking towards Paris with your arms wide open, only to find when you get close that it is hugging itself, hands buried in the crooks of its elbows and facing the other direction! And you're so blinded and hurt by this, you don't see that the rest of France is still virgin territory** and it's watching you go through this process, its arms open wide and making beckoning motions-- ''we don't get tourists 'round dese parts, z'etes bienvenues ici''-- but malgré you, you're already back on the plane with your ego bruised.

Italy, on the other hand, is around the corner and is standing there alongside Statale 25, eager to hand you the keys and the helmet to your own Vespa, AND waiting for you to come so you can both head South together. For those lucky few that still are fighting for what was promised them back in French 101, off you go to Italy, down towards glory, you in the driver's seat and him/her behind you, arms wrapped around your chest and the sunset off to your right framed by the port of Riomaggiore.

Sure, Italy doesn't have Proust, but those artifacts--from a France that no longer is-- have been universally consumed and have been made their own in Italy. Maybe in the '30's it was useful to know French if you were interested in being among the avant guarde, but that was quite a long time ago and both seem to have not contributed to high culture since Warhol/Botero took it back over to our side of the pond, NYC and Latin America, in the '70's.

A real-life example of this : a friend of mine at the Sorbonne still gets shut-out and dissed for not speaking absolutely flawless French, and in a way her relationship to her adopted homeland has become a passive-agressive one, with an unhealthy dose of ''trying to prove my worth to them.'' Again, not everyone is surrounded by the Parisian Ecole 'Normal' Superior elites, nor is everyone in France a P.E.N.S.*** but... Still.

By stark contrast, Italian people are surprised when anyone other than them has studied their language, and often react joyfully, even to the point of helping you. Not everyone, of course, but often enough to keep your motivation going, to help you along towards the Eat Pray Love -ish Utopia you're seeking. And Italian words seem to me more able to stick in my brain, and yeah maybe it looks a little unwieldy/ugly/confusing on paper at first (until you get the accent down, something that ain't so tough to do). Not at all like a good French accent.

Likewise, both are concerned with looks, a lot more than us Americans for sure, but in Italy it's not the be-all-end-all. That makes a difference.

Let's back up : does this seem that I'm telling you to forget the fantasy of learning French and being accepted into French culture? Or, worse, to settle for less before you even begin? No. IT's more: love the one that loves you back, and it's: think of the value you're getting with the amount of effort you're putting in, as well as to remember that France doesn't have a monopoly on European whimsy and charm.



The French version just seemingly demands lifetime devotion before you're accepted, and the ones that are willing to do that end up making a career out of it, up to the PhD level. Whereas, Italy can pay big dividends with just a passing interest and it is willing to accept a more realistic amount of dedication required of you before you're 'in'.

This came from considering how, of the people I've known, a lot more of those who focus on Italy and Italian have found their dreams come true, rather than the many who focus on French and have their heart broken when they are unable to self-actualize into Amelie, or the man into Jacques Brel****.

*a real English word

**In the same way here that we say, there's the United States and there's Texas, they should say the same.. there's France and there's Paris

*** did you catch the penis joke? say it out loud and you'll get it.

****Not a Parisian nor a Frenchman, I should point out, and maybe that's partly why I adore him.

P.S. But-- here's the fine print--I'd say, do both. Noone's making you choose at all! And learning one actually complements the other, 'faire' and 'fare', etc.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Some things to be happy about

-- while reading is about the last thing i feel like doing this summer (ive read 40 books so far this year), I was glad to be on the roof at sunset reading. the best spot in all of Morocco to be during sunset, with a book of Chekov short stories and the endlessly mutating colors in the sky all around, with the palm trees in a vast expanse below me, following the river flowing down from the mountains in the distance

-- walked by my family's hanut, the guy came out, took me to a room and pointed towards a sack of flour. OK, so I grab the corners on my end and next thing you know we take it across the street to the women's cookie co-op. Thirty seconds of work, and the lady in full Berber dress is handing me a half dozen cookies to enjoy the rest of the night

--Nkob is endlessly fascinating and gorgeous

--had a nice night yesterday, pizza AND couscous. But, sadly no couscous pizza.

--an easy ride to Agdez this week to get money from the bank, it can take anywhere from 2.5 hours like today, or 5+. Even better was seeing two people I knew : one a Spanish speaker and the other a younger man wanting to know Spanish. So, more chance to share my Iberian passion with them!


--being happy for Youtube, and the endless amount of nice songs there, e.g.:



--OK, the sun is setting, time to go on the roof with my copy of ''Kite Runner'' or ''The Harlem Renaissance Reader'' and enjoy life, with the aid of a Maoufid chocolate milk box and a Coconut flavored yogurt. Even two of each, potentially, I'll have to check the fridge.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

found an old OLD email -- one of the ones in my DRAFTS section that never got sent

I recognize this has a Krapp´s Last Tape -type feel to it, when I insert my comments from now on what I wrote then. Ill try to keep that to a minimum, for that reason.
---
September 2009

Nice day today. Tomorrow we are going to the market. Went swimming in the ocean, and I feel like I really fit in with some of these people. I participated in Ramadan by not eating lunch,hanging out with the muslim language professors instead (arabic is fun! but it's really unusual). Then, a group of people came looking for me because they expected me to be there.

[Update two years later -- I only passed up lunch once in order to be with the Language coordinators, but wish I had done it more: doing that and I felt much more welcome by them the rest of the time we were together, something crucial since they were the first introduction to Morocco and its people]

People are surfing, and I will take some of my money tomorrow and try to buy an Oud. I want to get one and show it off for a few days to other musicians that might be interested in learning it. So that is exciting to me to be playing something new. There is a gorgeous terrace outside of my window, and we have done yoga on it each night, overlooking the ocean. I'm getting better at reading the arabic script, and the staff is so supportive.

Tuesday we split into two groups and go to live with our training host families for about 9 weeks. It will be good to get into a routine and to see how fast we progress, but it will be sad to say goodbye to about 20 of our 63 person group.

I'll try and update my blog and write some more in-depth things for people that don't know about this process. I was able to talk toWilson online earlier, and he was making quiche. He used 4 eggs to make one deep dish quiche, and so i was able to send him your recipe. supposedly he got i

The food has been fine so far. We have a vegetarian table and tonite the staff made us french fries in place of the rice and meat that the others had.

Goodn ite~
i love you
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