This is interesting news below but it made me laugh to read that she 'converted to atheism.' How on earth do you do that?
"Australia’s new Prime Minister has revealed she does not believe in God.
Julia Gillard told ABC radio in Melbourne that she was not prepared to go through ‘religious rituals’ for the sake of appearances.
Ms Gillard added: ‘I am, of course, a great respecter of religious beliefs, but they are not my beliefs.
‘For people of faith, I think the greatest compliment I could pay them is to respect their genuinely-held beliefs and not to engage in some pretence about mine.
Ms Gillard’s views are in contrast with those of former prime minister Kevin Rudd, who was a regular at Canberra church services and opposition leader Tony Abbot, who is a devout Catholic.
Ms Gillard, who was born in the Welsh town of Barry, revealed she had been raised as a Baptist, before converting to Atheism."
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
The Just World theory
When someone says they have cancer, do you wonder if they smoked or had a bad lifestyle so getting cancer doesn't appear to be a random event -- that is, that YOU won't get it?
I do this all the time. I need some sort of superstition that it won't happen to me or anyone close to me. Once you decide that the sufferer had a risk factor that you didn't have, you feel safer, even though that is just an illusion.
Here's why we do that. It's called the Just World theory:
"When we encounter evidence suggesting that the world is not just, we quickly act to restore justice by helping the victim or we persuade ourselves that no injustice has occurred. We either lend assistance or we decide that the rape victim must have asked for it, the homeless person is simply lazy, the fallen star must be an adulterer. These attitudes are continually reinforced in the ubiquitous fairy tales, fables, comic books, cop shows and other morality tales of our culture, in which good is always rewarded and evil punished....The belief in a just world may take the place of a genuine commitment to justice."
I do this all the time. I need some sort of superstition that it won't happen to me or anyone close to me. Once you decide that the sufferer had a risk factor that you didn't have, you feel safer, even though that is just an illusion.
Here's why we do that. It's called the Just World theory:
"When we encounter evidence suggesting that the world is not just, we quickly act to restore justice by helping the victim or we persuade ourselves that no injustice has occurred. We either lend assistance or we decide that the rape victim must have asked for it, the homeless person is simply lazy, the fallen star must be an adulterer. These attitudes are continually reinforced in the ubiquitous fairy tales, fables, comic books, cop shows and other morality tales of our culture, in which good is always rewarded and evil punished....The belief in a just world may take the place of a genuine commitment to justice."
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
If you're going to San Fran
I have to put this song in my blog as we are going to San Francisco for our family vacation. It'll be our last big trip together as my daughter Katie has to knuckle down in medical school next year and only gets a few weeks off a year.
Monday, 28 June 2010
24 hours in Cardiff
Friday night we went to Wales to visit our friends and see Rigoletto at the Welsh National Opera. The kids went too for a bit of culture. Sample below:
It was a great story. A curse fulfilled, lots of violence, sex and dark and stormy nights with intrigue and drama.
Before that though, we arrived at our friends' house on a beautiful sunny day. She left a cold bottle of wine for us, and we luxuriated outdoors. It was such a treat to be surrounded by fields, horses, sheep and other wild life instead of the noise of urban life.
We felt like we'd been out of Reading for a week by the time the evening came, we were so relaxed. After the opera was over, we found a Chinese takeaway that was still open and got some food for a late-night dinner. I ordered chicken, cashew nuts and yellow bean sauce. The owner of the place chided me. "Yellow bean sauce too strong to go with chicken. It should only ordered with pork." I didn't know that -- our local Chinese offers this dish. He agreed to make it with chicken and set aside his culinary concerns.
The next day was another beautiful day. We were so lucky with the weather. We went out to celebrate our friends' 27th wedding anniversary at a restaurant on Cardiff Bay.
I took a pic out of the window near my chair:
We got home last night, and the idyll was over. Dirty laundry, domestic chores and the USA crashing out of the World Cup awaited us. (We lost our game to Ghana. Heartbreaking.)
It was a great story. A curse fulfilled, lots of violence, sex and dark and stormy nights with intrigue and drama.
Before that though, we arrived at our friends' house on a beautiful sunny day. She left a cold bottle of wine for us, and we luxuriated outdoors. It was such a treat to be surrounded by fields, horses, sheep and other wild life instead of the noise of urban life.
We felt like we'd been out of Reading for a week by the time the evening came, we were so relaxed. After the opera was over, we found a Chinese takeaway that was still open and got some food for a late-night dinner. I ordered chicken, cashew nuts and yellow bean sauce. The owner of the place chided me. "Yellow bean sauce too strong to go with chicken. It should only ordered with pork." I didn't know that -- our local Chinese offers this dish. He agreed to make it with chicken and set aside his culinary concerns.
The next day was another beautiful day. We were so lucky with the weather. We went out to celebrate our friends' 27th wedding anniversary at a restaurant on Cardiff Bay.
I took a pic out of the window near my chair:
We got home last night, and the idyll was over. Dirty laundry, domestic chores and the USA crashing out of the World Cup awaited us. (We lost our game to Ghana. Heartbreaking.)
Saturday, 26 June 2010
If she doesn't remember me, did it never happen?
I have many treasured memories from my youth -- some of them involve a fun-loving older couple who sort of adopted me and my friend Brenda when we were in high school and participating in the Vicksburg, Mississippi, Little Theatre productions.
They took us with them to Florida one time, and I had to rescue the woman from the sea when she got into trouble. (I was 15 and had just taken a lifeguard course.)
Her husband was so much fun and always singing. My mother and I ran into him on the street one weekend when I was in high school and he burst into song. It made us smile to see the way he loved life. The Holy City was his signature song. I grew to love it from hearing him sing it. Listen below:
Fast forward 30 years and I meet the woman again (now a widow) at my god-daughter's wedding last month. She is something like 83 now and has no idea who I am.
Does that mean the stuff I remember has less meaning because she can't remember any of it?
Don't your memories of something become less vivid when the person you shared them with dies or can't remember them?
They took us with them to Florida one time, and I had to rescue the woman from the sea when she got into trouble. (I was 15 and had just taken a lifeguard course.)
Her husband was so much fun and always singing. My mother and I ran into him on the street one weekend when I was in high school and he burst into song. It made us smile to see the way he loved life. The Holy City was his signature song. I grew to love it from hearing him sing it. Listen below:
Fast forward 30 years and I meet the woman again (now a widow) at my god-daughter's wedding last month. She is something like 83 now and has no idea who I am.
Does that mean the stuff I remember has less meaning because she can't remember any of it?
Don't your memories of something become less vivid when the person you shared them with dies or can't remember them?
Friday, 25 June 2010
Organized chaos
I would have made a good Indian. Apparently, order and neatness drive them nuts so shops in India have to display goods in a chaotic way so the consumer feels less stressed:
"When British supermarkets pile goods high, they generally strive to construct neat stacks of logically grouped products. In India the aim is rather different.
Research has found that Indian consumers find big, well-organised shops and endless rows of orderly aisles distressing. So, with this in mind, the country’s largest retailer has introduced the concept of “organised chaos”.
Future Group’s tactic involves peppering a supermarket with deliberately disorganised displays mimicking the bedlam of India’s traditional bazaars and the unruliness of the country’s ubiquitous “kirana” corner shops.
In a Mumbai outlet of Big Bazaar, a leading supermarket chain owned by Future Group, the results are hard to miss: some parts of the store look as if they have just been looted. Elsewhere, precariously arranged stacks of nappies tower over giant bins of lentils."
“Organised chaos is working very well for us,” Kishore Biyani, Future Group’s chief executive, told The Times. “The disorder we create puts our customers at ease. They feel at home.” The strategy also points to how India’s idiosyncrasies have threatened to bamboozle some of the West’s finest retail minds.
"When British supermarkets pile goods high, they generally strive to construct neat stacks of logically grouped products. In India the aim is rather different.
Research has found that Indian consumers find big, well-organised shops and endless rows of orderly aisles distressing. So, with this in mind, the country’s largest retailer has introduced the concept of “organised chaos”.
Future Group’s tactic involves peppering a supermarket with deliberately disorganised displays mimicking the bedlam of India’s traditional bazaars and the unruliness of the country’s ubiquitous “kirana” corner shops.
In a Mumbai outlet of Big Bazaar, a leading supermarket chain owned by Future Group, the results are hard to miss: some parts of the store look as if they have just been looted. Elsewhere, precariously arranged stacks of nappies tower over giant bins of lentils."
“Organised chaos is working very well for us,” Kishore Biyani, Future Group’s chief executive, told The Times. “The disorder we create puts our customers at ease. They feel at home.” The strategy also points to how India’s idiosyncrasies have threatened to bamboozle some of the West’s finest retail minds.
Thursday, 24 June 2010
USA wins World Cup group, England in 2nd place
I had to sit and watch the English soccer game at the office and listen to them make fun of my beloved USA team. That was OK; I can handle it. Then on the way home from the office, I heard on the radio that the USA had scored and won the group (England came second) and I had to start shouting USA USA USA in the car. My people!!
Then I called my daughter up on my cell phone and started shouting USA USA USA -- she laughed -- she had been watching the England game like everyone else in the country so she knew what I was talking about.
Let's watch that fabulous goal together here:
I don't know what people in the US are saying about the World Cup but I read this on the Salon website today:
Roughly speaking, two overlapping propaganda wars have been raging on the Internet with respect to what soccer in the U.S. means.
The first is explicitly political. Social conservatives see the slow rise of soccer's popularity in the U.S. as unwanted proof of increasing multicultural diversity -- collateral damage from immigration, legal or illegal. With each new triumph by the U.S. team, the dream of American "exceptionalism" dies a little death. Glenn Beck doesn't even think Americans should watch the World Cup, lest they betray their patriotic duty. And while the left isn't as explicitly ridiculous on their side of this ledger, you do sometimes hear a whiff of the converse: that the growing signs of soccer prominence in the U.S. are supposed to signify a long-overdue dismantling of U.S. superpower ideological primacy. Since at least the end of World War II, the U.S. has exported its culture to the rest of the world -- soccer's rise is the revenge of the imperialized, or more, generously, signifies what one of my tweeps just called America's "return to the community of nations.
We're going to see a lot of bandwagon fans jump on the U.S. train in the next few days. We may even see the culture wars break out into even more ferocious fits of spleen. Hype for American soccer will reach new heights. I welcome it all, even if it quickly drains away in the aftermath of a dispiriting second round loss. This moment is good enough. We don't need to impute geopolitical significance, we don't need to decide one sport is better than other. Don't we just want to be thrilled? I know I am."
All I know is, I can gloat at the office today. I am so happy by the turn of events yesterday.
Then I called my daughter up on my cell phone and started shouting USA USA USA -- she laughed -- she had been watching the England game like everyone else in the country so she knew what I was talking about.
Let's watch that fabulous goal together here:
I don't know what people in the US are saying about the World Cup but I read this on the Salon website today:
Roughly speaking, two overlapping propaganda wars have been raging on the Internet with respect to what soccer in the U.S. means.
The first is explicitly political. Social conservatives see the slow rise of soccer's popularity in the U.S. as unwanted proof of increasing multicultural diversity -- collateral damage from immigration, legal or illegal. With each new triumph by the U.S. team, the dream of American "exceptionalism" dies a little death. Glenn Beck doesn't even think Americans should watch the World Cup, lest they betray their patriotic duty. And while the left isn't as explicitly ridiculous on their side of this ledger, you do sometimes hear a whiff of the converse: that the growing signs of soccer prominence in the U.S. are supposed to signify a long-overdue dismantling of U.S. superpower ideological primacy. Since at least the end of World War II, the U.S. has exported its culture to the rest of the world -- soccer's rise is the revenge of the imperialized, or more, generously, signifies what one of my tweeps just called America's "return to the community of nations.
We're going to see a lot of bandwagon fans jump on the U.S. train in the next few days. We may even see the culture wars break out into even more ferocious fits of spleen. Hype for American soccer will reach new heights. I welcome it all, even if it quickly drains away in the aftermath of a dispiriting second round loss. This moment is good enough. We don't need to impute geopolitical significance, we don't need to decide one sport is better than other. Don't we just want to be thrilled? I know I am."
All I know is, I can gloat at the office today. I am so happy by the turn of events yesterday.
We can liberate ourselves from the impossible burden of trying to be permanently right
Hugh Pickens sends in an excerpt in last week's Boston Globe from Kathryn Schulz's book Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error.
"The more scientists understand about cognitive functioning, the more it becomes clear that our capacity to make mistakes is utterly inextricable from what makes the human brain so swift, adaptable, and intelligent.
Rather than treating errors like the bedbugs of the intellect — an appalling and embarrassing nuisance we try to pretend out of existence — we need to recognize that human fallibility is part and parcel of human brilliance. Neuroscientists increasingly think that inductive reasoning undergirds virtually all of human cognition. Humans use inductive reasoning to learn language, organize the world into meaningful categories, and grasp the relationship between cause and effect. Thanks to inductive reasoning, we are able to form nearly instantaneous beliefs and take action accordingly.
However, Schulz writes, 'The distinctive thing about inductive reasoning is that it generates conclusions that aren't necessarily true. They are, instead, probabilistically true — which means they are possibly false.' Schulz recommends that we respond to the mistakes (or putative mistakes) of those around us with empathy and generosity and demand that our business and political leaders acknowledge and redress their errors rather than ignoring or denying them.
'Once we recognize that we do not err out of laziness, stupidity, or evil intent, we can liberate ourselves from the impossible burden of trying to be permanently right. We can take seriously the proposition that we could be in error, without deeming ourselves idiotic or unworthy.'"
"The more scientists understand about cognitive functioning, the more it becomes clear that our capacity to make mistakes is utterly inextricable from what makes the human brain so swift, adaptable, and intelligent.
Rather than treating errors like the bedbugs of the intellect — an appalling and embarrassing nuisance we try to pretend out of existence — we need to recognize that human fallibility is part and parcel of human brilliance. Neuroscientists increasingly think that inductive reasoning undergirds virtually all of human cognition. Humans use inductive reasoning to learn language, organize the world into meaningful categories, and grasp the relationship between cause and effect. Thanks to inductive reasoning, we are able to form nearly instantaneous beliefs and take action accordingly.
However, Schulz writes, 'The distinctive thing about inductive reasoning is that it generates conclusions that aren't necessarily true. They are, instead, probabilistically true — which means they are possibly false.' Schulz recommends that we respond to the mistakes (or putative mistakes) of those around us with empathy and generosity and demand that our business and political leaders acknowledge and redress their errors rather than ignoring or denying them.
'Once we recognize that we do not err out of laziness, stupidity, or evil intent, we can liberate ourselves from the impossible burden of trying to be permanently right. We can take seriously the proposition that we could be in error, without deeming ourselves idiotic or unworthy.'"
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Say No to the Get-Go
Another old codger in English newspapers yesterday complaining about the UK using too many expression from the US. Just get over it, man!
It happened early this month, shortly after the first cuckoo. I heard it, I swear I heard it. The first get-go of spring. It was on the BBC Breakfast programme on May 1: a presenter was wittering, and distinctly said that something-or-other had been clear 'from the get-go'.
From the what?
Actually, I know all about the get-go or, worse still, the git-go. It's an ugly Americanism, meaning 'from the start' or 'from the off'. It adds nothing to Britain's language but it's here now, like the grey squirrel, destined to drive out native species and ravage the linguistic ecosystem.
In 1832, the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge was fulminating about the 'vile and barbarous' new adjective that had just arrived in London. The word was 'talented'. It sounds innocuous enough to our ears, as do 'reliable', 'influential' and 'lengthy', which all inspired loathing when they first crossed the Atlantic.
But the process gathered speed with the arrival of cinema and television in the 20th Century. And in the 21st it seems unstoppable. The U.S.-dominated computer industry, with its 'licenses', 'colors' and 'favorites' is one culprit. That ties in with mobile phones that keep 'dialing' numbers that are always 'busy.'
Nowadays, people have no idea where American ends and English begins. And that's a disaster for our national self-esteem. We are in danger of subordinating our language to someone else's - and with it large aspects of British life.
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
Old and gray by 40 at Google
Depressing news....
theodp writes "Google faces an imminent California Supreme Court decision on whether an age discrimination suit against it can go forward. But that hasn't kept the company from patting itself on the back for how it supports 'Greyglers' — that's any Googler over 40. At a company of about 20,000 full-time employees, there were at last count fewer than 200 formally enrolled Greyglers working to 'make Google culture ... welcome to people of all ages.'"
theodp writes "Google faces an imminent California Supreme Court decision on whether an age discrimination suit against it can go forward. But that hasn't kept the company from patting itself on the back for how it supports 'Greyglers' — that's any Googler over 40. At a company of about 20,000 full-time employees, there were at last count fewer than 200 formally enrolled Greyglers working to 'make Google culture ... welcome to people of all ages.'"
Liming, Tea and Drag Queens
I had an action-packed weekend. Friday night was a Book Club dinner where we all brought food and kept an eye on the World Cup soccer games. England played and it was so boring that no one even scored.
Liming with the Book Club
That gaves us a lot of time for liming. Our host, Manju, had introduced us to the concept of liming as her family is from Trinidad.
Here's the explanation: In certain parts of the Caribbean, mainly Trinidad and Tobago and the smaller eastern Caribbean islands, the word limin' is used as an expression for hanging out . The word is associated with sitting under a lime tree, or having nothing more demanding to do than squeezing limes. It is also thought to originate from the term "Limey", a slang term meaning a British serviceman during World War Two, as they spent a lot of their time hanging around bars and drinking.
Manju said our book club was so good at liming that she made us honorary Trinidadians (is that the right word?) I don't have a photo of us liming because my brand-new Nokia phone doesn't work.
Tea and Drag Queens
The next day, my friend Mad and I went out to celebrate our friend Di's birthday. We went to the Lanesborough Hotel in London for a champagne tea. I have photos to put up but my camera connection isn't working. I am having so many high-tech problems lately. Here's a pic of the actual tea:
After tea, we went to a West End musical. We saw Priscilla Queen of the Desert. My friend Di is from Australia and the show is set there, so she especially enjoyed it.
Newborn Babies
The next day I went to check out my friend Jax's new baby. I especially wanted to see her because Jax named her the same name as my mother's -- Laura.
I was so out of practice with babies that I couldn't hold Laura correctly.
Back to the office for some rest this week....
Liming with the Book Club
That gaves us a lot of time for liming. Our host, Manju, had introduced us to the concept of liming as her family is from Trinidad.
Here's the explanation: In certain parts of the Caribbean, mainly Trinidad and Tobago and the smaller eastern Caribbean islands, the word limin' is used as an expression for hanging out . The word is associated with sitting under a lime tree, or having nothing more demanding to do than squeezing limes. It is also thought to originate from the term "Limey", a slang term meaning a British serviceman during World War Two, as they spent a lot of their time hanging around bars and drinking.
Manju said our book club was so good at liming that she made us honorary Trinidadians (is that the right word?) I don't have a photo of us liming because my brand-new Nokia phone doesn't work.
Tea and Drag Queens
The next day, my friend Mad and I went out to celebrate our friend Di's birthday. We went to the Lanesborough Hotel in London for a champagne tea. I have photos to put up but my camera connection isn't working. I am having so many high-tech problems lately. Here's a pic of the actual tea:
After tea, we went to a West End musical. We saw Priscilla Queen of the Desert. My friend Di is from Australia and the show is set there, so she especially enjoyed it.
Newborn Babies
The next day I went to check out my friend Jax's new baby. I especially wanted to see her because Jax named her the same name as my mother's -- Laura.
I was so out of practice with babies that I couldn't hold Laura correctly.
Back to the office for some rest this week....
Monday, 21 June 2010
Britons spend six months of their lives talking about the weather
I thought English people always discussing the weather was so silly but the longer I live here the more I see it isn't really the weather they are discussing -- it's more of a sounding out of the other person -- a way of saying hello to see how receptive the person is to more conversation. It's an important communication tool, this talking about the weather.
LONDON (Reuters) - Weather-obsessed Britons spend six months of their lives discussing rain, sun and all things related to the climate, according to a survey on Friday.
The findings appear to confirm the traditional adage that the weather is indeed the favourite topic of conversation amongst Britons, beating sport, jobs, or their love lives.
The subject is so popular that 58 percent of Britons will use the weather as an "ice-breaker" when striking up a conversation with a stranger or business acquaintance, the survey by Lloyds TSB Insurance found.
No doubt then, a hot topic for Britons this weekend will be the forecast that the country will enjoy a warm spell next week after recent chilly conditions.
LONDON (Reuters) - Weather-obsessed Britons spend six months of their lives discussing rain, sun and all things related to the climate, according to a survey on Friday.
The findings appear to confirm the traditional adage that the weather is indeed the favourite topic of conversation amongst Britons, beating sport, jobs, or their love lives.
The subject is so popular that 58 percent of Britons will use the weather as an "ice-breaker" when striking up a conversation with a stranger or business acquaintance, the survey by Lloyds TSB Insurance found.
No doubt then, a hot topic for Britons this weekend will be the forecast that the country will enjoy a warm spell next week after recent chilly conditions.
Sunday, 20 June 2010
John Scaglione, a Yankee, discovers Krystal hamburgers
I love Facebook. I've met so many new and fun people. One time I made a guy my friend just because his last name was Scaglione and my maiden name was Scanlon, and they sounded so much alike that we might as well be friends.
It was a great decision because John is so funny and makes all of his friends laugh. He has read some of my posts about Krystal hamburgers, the addictive little things only found in the south of the USA. Recently he and his wife were down there traveling and he saw a Krystal, thought of me, and decided to try it.
I woke up yesterday to find he had posted a whole Krystal photo album of his experience and dedicated it to me. I loved it and was cheerful the whole day (until I got home and saw the mess in the house from my teen son).
Here's John with his order:
Here he hasn't even tried a bite yet. He doesn't even know the delights that await him.
John became so enamored of his Krystal experience that he got creative and made some artwork with Krytal boxes.
He put his art on the Krystal Lover community page on Facebook, and they love it. I think he might have started a craze. I said I'd make some Krystal artwork next time I have some and we could open a museum.
It was a great decision because John is so funny and makes all of his friends laugh. He has read some of my posts about Krystal hamburgers, the addictive little things only found in the south of the USA. Recently he and his wife were down there traveling and he saw a Krystal, thought of me, and decided to try it.
I woke up yesterday to find he had posted a whole Krystal photo album of his experience and dedicated it to me. I loved it and was cheerful the whole day (until I got home and saw the mess in the house from my teen son).
Here's John with his order:
Here he hasn't even tried a bite yet. He doesn't even know the delights that await him.
John became so enamored of his Krystal experience that he got creative and made some artwork with Krytal boxes.
He put his art on the Krystal Lover community page on Facebook, and they love it. I think he might have started a craze. I said I'd make some Krystal artwork next time I have some and we could open a museum.
Saturday, 19 June 2010
Salsa-flavored hummus? Yuck.
Apparently Americans have decided they like hummus but only if it is flavored! Such a shame...my husband eats hummus and pita bread almost every day for a snack. I will buy him salsa-flavored hummus the next time we're in America and see how he reacts.
From the New York Times:
“BACK home, they would shoot me in the head for doing this to hummus,” Majdi Wadi said as he waited to board a flight to Los Angeles, where he would meet with Costco executives to pitch his company’s roster of 14 flavored hummus varieties, including artichoke-garlic and spinach.
By “home,” Mr. Wadi meant Kuwait, where he was born, and Jordan, from which he immigrated in 1994, places where hummus is usually a purée of chickpeas, sesame paste, lemon, garlic and not much else.
Mr. Wadi, chief executive of Holy Land, a specialty foods producer here, has in the last few years broadened the palette of hummus, and its appeal.
“I’m making an American product,” he confessed sotto voce. “And this is what Americans want. Flavors and varieties and guacamole.”
Holy Land opened in Minneapolis in 1987 as a storefront cafe that sold tubs of hummus as a sideline. Back then, Americans didn’t eat a lot of hummus. A staple of the counterculture in the 1960s and 1970s, hummus was long relegated to health food stores and “ethnic” aisles of markets. More recently, though, Americans seem to have decided that this low-fat, high-protein snack with a little olive oil stirred in is not so exotic. Industry giants have joined the market, for chips require dips. In 2008 Frito-Lay North America, a division of PepsiCo, became an owner of Sabra Dipping Company, producer of more than a dozen hummus varieties, including one with salsa.
From the New York Times:
“BACK home, they would shoot me in the head for doing this to hummus,” Majdi Wadi said as he waited to board a flight to Los Angeles, where he would meet with Costco executives to pitch his company’s roster of 14 flavored hummus varieties, including artichoke-garlic and spinach.
By “home,” Mr. Wadi meant Kuwait, where he was born, and Jordan, from which he immigrated in 1994, places where hummus is usually a purée of chickpeas, sesame paste, lemon, garlic and not much else.
Mr. Wadi, chief executive of Holy Land, a specialty foods producer here, has in the last few years broadened the palette of hummus, and its appeal.
“I’m making an American product,” he confessed sotto voce. “And this is what Americans want. Flavors and varieties and guacamole.”
Holy Land opened in Minneapolis in 1987 as a storefront cafe that sold tubs of hummus as a sideline. Back then, Americans didn’t eat a lot of hummus. A staple of the counterculture in the 1960s and 1970s, hummus was long relegated to health food stores and “ethnic” aisles of markets. More recently, though, Americans seem to have decided that this low-fat, high-protein snack with a little olive oil stirred in is not so exotic. Industry giants have joined the market, for chips require dips. In 2008 Frito-Lay North America, a division of PepsiCo, became an owner of Sabra Dipping Company, producer of more than a dozen hummus varieties, including one with salsa.
Friday, 18 June 2010
Bisque recipe
My Facebook friend Eileen Turri talked about a wonderful seafood bisque she made for dinner. Of course I needed the recipe immediately, and she supplied it. Doesn't it look delish? I'm going to try it soon because my daughter is a mad fiend for Lobster Bisque (whenever we are in America; could never afford it here in the UK)
Here's her note and recipe:
Forgive the lack of precise measurements, please, but this is very much a seat-of-the-pants, Jamie-Oliver-style recipe. And I get very impatient with measuring at the best of times...
- - - - - - - -
Start by shelling your seafood – a good handful of prawns, a couple of cooked crab legs or a couple of lobster tails are plenty if you don’t have a whole crustacean on hand. Pre-cook the lobster tails in boiling water before shelling if they’re uncooked. Rinse and drain the seafood: reserve the shells.
Melt about 3 tbsp. of butter in a stockpot. Add to it one minced garlic clove, one thinly-sliced onion, one thinly-sliced celery rib, one shredded carrot, and the seafood shells. Cook for about 5 minutes until the veggies wilt and the shells go red.
Now add about a teaspoon of tomato paste, a half a glass of dry white wine, a bay leaf, a good dash of tarragon (and paprika, if you like), and about three cups of stock (chicken or vegetable or, even better if you have it, fish stock). Heat to boiling, reduce heat and simmer for about 40 minutes.
While this is happening, coarsely chop your seafood into bite-sized pieces.
After 40 minutes, strain the liquid into a separate container, rinse out your stockpot, and strain the liquid back into the pot using a finer strainer. On the first go, use the back of a ladle or spoon to press down on the vegetable/shell mixture in the strainer to help you get all the flavor out. Discard the vegetable/shell mixture when you’re done.
Combine about 3 tbsp. of flour with ½ cup of stock until smooth, and gradually add to the liquid, stirring as you go. Simmer gently for 5-10 minutes until the liquid begins to thicken. Now add anywhere from ½ to 1½ cups of whipping cream (milk or half-and-half are OK, too) and your chopped seafood, cooking gently just until the shellfish is warmed (or, if you’re using prawns, just cooked through) and the broth is hot.
Season to taste with salt, white pepper and cayenne. (Careful on the salt if you are using King Crab legs – they usually have more than enough inherent salt already!) To be extra-festive, add a spoonful of warmed brandy to each bowl before serving.
This serves about 6 as a starter but it’s also a very rich main course for 3 with toasted French bread and a nice sharp Cheddar on the side. Or, try making extra and tossing it with pasta the next day!
You can make it into a chowder by adding 1 ½ cups or so of diced potatoes after straining the stock, and simmering them by themselves for about 15 minutes before picking up with the recipe again. Corn could also be added to make it exceptionally hearty. If you do, crisp-fried bacon (what else?), crumbled, is a nice garnish.
Here's her note and recipe:
Forgive the lack of precise measurements, please, but this is very much a seat-of-the-pants, Jamie-Oliver-style recipe. And I get very impatient with measuring at the best of times...
- - - - - - - -
Start by shelling your seafood – a good handful of prawns, a couple of cooked crab legs or a couple of lobster tails are plenty if you don’t have a whole crustacean on hand. Pre-cook the lobster tails in boiling water before shelling if they’re uncooked. Rinse and drain the seafood: reserve the shells.
Melt about 3 tbsp. of butter in a stockpot. Add to it one minced garlic clove, one thinly-sliced onion, one thinly-sliced celery rib, one shredded carrot, and the seafood shells. Cook for about 5 minutes until the veggies wilt and the shells go red.
Now add about a teaspoon of tomato paste, a half a glass of dry white wine, a bay leaf, a good dash of tarragon (and paprika, if you like), and about three cups of stock (chicken or vegetable or, even better if you have it, fish stock). Heat to boiling, reduce heat and simmer for about 40 minutes.
While this is happening, coarsely chop your seafood into bite-sized pieces.
After 40 minutes, strain the liquid into a separate container, rinse out your stockpot, and strain the liquid back into the pot using a finer strainer. On the first go, use the back of a ladle or spoon to press down on the vegetable/shell mixture in the strainer to help you get all the flavor out. Discard the vegetable/shell mixture when you’re done.
Combine about 3 tbsp. of flour with ½ cup of stock until smooth, and gradually add to the liquid, stirring as you go. Simmer gently for 5-10 minutes until the liquid begins to thicken. Now add anywhere from ½ to 1½ cups of whipping cream (milk or half-and-half are OK, too) and your chopped seafood, cooking gently just until the shellfish is warmed (or, if you’re using prawns, just cooked through) and the broth is hot.
Season to taste with salt, white pepper and cayenne. (Careful on the salt if you are using King Crab legs – they usually have more than enough inherent salt already!) To be extra-festive, add a spoonful of warmed brandy to each bowl before serving.
This serves about 6 as a starter but it’s also a very rich main course for 3 with toasted French bread and a nice sharp Cheddar on the side. Or, try making extra and tossing it with pasta the next day!
You can make it into a chowder by adding 1 ½ cups or so of diced potatoes after straining the stock, and simmering them by themselves for about 15 minutes before picking up with the recipe again. Corn could also be added to make it exceptionally hearty. If you do, crisp-fried bacon (what else?), crumbled, is a nice garnish.
Date British Guys
In my day, the only way to meet cute British guys was to go on a junior year abroad. I met my husband when I was studying at Cambridge. There weren't many women at the colleges back then (a lot of them were still Men Only) so the pickings were good.
But girls today have it so easy! They can just go to the DateBritishGuys.com website and find true love.
From the New York Times:
IN the two months that the BP oil spill has befouled the Gulf of Mexico, an American stain has besmirched the British national character. That is the charge of some Britons in high places and high dudgeon. Last week, Lord Tebbit, the one-time Conservative Party chairman, accused President Obama of a “xenophobic display of partisan political presidential petulance,” while London’s mayor, Boris Johnson, complained that the United States was unleashing a wave of “anti-British rhetoric.”
But judging from the scores of New York women who turned up last Saturday at an East Village pub called Central Bar to watch the United States play England in the World Cup tournament, the reputation of British men remains unsullied.
The match doubled as the inaugural party of the dating Web site DateBritishGuys.com, which introduces American women to British men. Throughout the raucous pregame warm-up, women in T-shirts that read “BRITISH MEN WANTED” jockeyed for position — their eyes peeled for an English dreamboat — amid an unruly throng of soccer fans.
“Who doesn’t like a British guy?” asked Meghan O’Malley, 29. “They travel a lot more, they know a lot more, and the accent is amazing.”
But girls today have it so easy! They can just go to the DateBritishGuys.com website and find true love.
From the New York Times:
IN the two months that the BP oil spill has befouled the Gulf of Mexico, an American stain has besmirched the British national character. That is the charge of some Britons in high places and high dudgeon. Last week, Lord Tebbit, the one-time Conservative Party chairman, accused President Obama of a “xenophobic display of partisan political presidential petulance,” while London’s mayor, Boris Johnson, complained that the United States was unleashing a wave of “anti-British rhetoric.”
But judging from the scores of New York women who turned up last Saturday at an East Village pub called Central Bar to watch the United States play England in the World Cup tournament, the reputation of British men remains unsullied.
The match doubled as the inaugural party of the dating Web site DateBritishGuys.com, which introduces American women to British men. Throughout the raucous pregame warm-up, women in T-shirts that read “BRITISH MEN WANTED” jockeyed for position — their eyes peeled for an English dreamboat — amid an unruly throng of soccer fans.
“Who doesn’t like a British guy?” asked Meghan O’Malley, 29. “They travel a lot more, they know a lot more, and the accent is amazing.”
Thursday, 17 June 2010
What a name!
I know I shouldn't put this up in my blog (it's an internal announcement) but what an incredible name this woman has. Wonder why she didn't modify it in some way?
What if it was her destiny to meet a nice Jewish boy and marry him? What would his family say?
Appointment in Nokia IT, Technology Operations, Application Management
I am pleased to announce that Nazi Mehrooz has been appointed as acting Team Leader for Application Management, Sales & Marketing and Collaboration Platform US team, starting July 1, 2010. Previously, Nazi has worked as a senior specialist in Application Management US team and supported eStore, NRule and Sales Planning Simulation (SPS) tool. Nazi has worked 10 years for Nokia and this long experience will be very beneficial in her new role.
What if it was her destiny to meet a nice Jewish boy and marry him? What would his family say?
Appointment in Nokia IT, Technology Operations, Application Management
I am pleased to announce that Nazi Mehrooz has been appointed as acting Team Leader for Application Management, Sales & Marketing and Collaboration Platform US team, starting July 1, 2010. Previously, Nazi has worked as a senior specialist in Application Management US team and supported eStore, NRule and Sales Planning Simulation (SPS) tool. Nazi has worked 10 years for Nokia and this long experience will be very beneficial in her new role.
Drinking Fewer Sugar-Sweetened Beverages May Lower Blood Pressure
You! Put down that Coke can right now! You know you should....
ScienceDaily (May 24, 2010) — Drinking fewer sugar-sweetened beverages -- a leading source of added sugar in the U.S. diet -- may lower blood pressure, according to research published in Circulation: Journal of the American Heart Association. Increased consumption of sugar-sweetened beverages (SSB) has been associated with an elevated risk of obesity, metabolic syndrome, and type 2 diabetes, according to previous research. However, the effect of sugar-sweetened beverages on blood pressure is uncertain, said lead author Liwei Chen, M.D., Ph.D., assistant professor at Louisiana State University Health Science Center School of Public Health in New Orleans, La.
"Our findings suggest that reducing sugar-sweetened beverages and sugar consumption may be an important dietary strategy to lower blood pressure and further reduce other blood pressure-related diseases," Chen said. "It has been estimated that a 3-millimeters of mercury (mm Hg) reduction in systolic blood pressure should reduce stroke mortality by 8 percent and coronary heart disease mortality by 5 percent. Such reductions in systolic blood pressure would be anticipated by reducing sugar-sweetened beverages consumption by an average of 2 servings per day."
ScienceDaily (May 24, 2010) — Drinking fewer sugar-sweetened beverages -- a leading source of added sugar in the U.S. diet -- may lower blood pressure, according to research published in Circulation: Journal of the American Heart Association. Increased consumption of sugar-sweetened beverages (SSB) has been associated with an elevated risk of obesity, metabolic syndrome, and type 2 diabetes, according to previous research. However, the effect of sugar-sweetened beverages on blood pressure is uncertain, said lead author Liwei Chen, M.D., Ph.D., assistant professor at Louisiana State University Health Science Center School of Public Health in New Orleans, La.
"Our findings suggest that reducing sugar-sweetened beverages and sugar consumption may be an important dietary strategy to lower blood pressure and further reduce other blood pressure-related diseases," Chen said. "It has been estimated that a 3-millimeters of mercury (mm Hg) reduction in systolic blood pressure should reduce stroke mortality by 8 percent and coronary heart disease mortality by 5 percent. Such reductions in systolic blood pressure would be anticipated by reducing sugar-sweetened beverages consumption by an average of 2 servings per day."
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
I just ate goat meat
We have a lot of Nepalese workers at Nokia, and today the chef made a special Nepalese dish, Goat Curry. I decided to try it. There was a choice of chicken or goat. I went up the counter, hesitated, started to say 'chicken' then thought, no, be brave, eat the goat.
In the end, I couldn't eat it all. It was just too exotic for me. I wish I'd just gotten my usual chicken and lettuce sandwich instead.
Goat is the most widely consumed meat in the world, a staple of, among others, Mexican, Indian, Greek and southern Italian cuisines. Moreover, it’s been edging its way into yuppier climes for a year or so now, click-clacking its cloven hooves up and down the coasts and to places like Houston and Des Moines. (When New York magazine proclaimed eating goat a “trendlet” last summer, one reader wrote on the magazine’s Web site, “Here are white people again!!!! Acting like they invented goat meat.”)
Here's the recipe in case you want to make it at home:
In this recipe, the meat is marinated in a small amount of yogurt, ginger, garlic, red chili paste, turmeric, salt and clarified butter for up to four hours. It is then cooked with several other herbs and spices. Nepali garam masala or masu ko masala is added at the end of cooking process to retain pleasant aroma. The meat cooks in its own juice with the help of some water. The marinated spices add flavor and tenderness. It is served with rice, puffed-bread, chiura and a selection of chutney and vegetables.
Ingredients
3 pounds lean goat meat, (bone-in or boneless - preferably from shoulder or leg), cut into 1 or 1 ½-inch cubes, excess fat removed
1 tablespoon clarified butter (ghee)
1½-inch piece fresh gingerroot, peeled and minced to fine paste (to yield 11/2 tablespoons)
6 medium cloves garlic, peeled and minced and mashed to paste (to yield 1 tablespoon)
whole red dried chili pepper, stemmed, broken into 2 pieces, seeded, soaked in ½ cup hot water until doubled in size, drained and minced to fine paste
½ cup unflavored plain yogurt, lightly beaten
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
salt to taste
4 tablespoon light oil (any variety)
1 pound yellow or white onion, peeled and chopped fine (to yield 4 cups)
3-4 medium size vine-ripened red tomato, finely chopped or mashed
1 tablespoon cumin, dry-roasted and ground
1 ½ tablespoon coriander, dry-roasted and ground
1 teaspoon fennel seed, dry-roasted and ground
½ cup water and more if needed
2 teaspoon Nepali garam masala or masu ko masala
1 or 2 bunches of cilantro leaves (fresh coriander), washed well, chopped to yield ½ cup
4 scallions, white and pale green parts only, root end discarded and sliced into cubes
Directions
1.Wash meat pieces thoroughly with cold water. Cut into 1 or a ½ inch pieces. Trim away as much visible fat as possible. Prepare the herb and spices as indicated in the ingredients. In a mixing bowl, combine meat, clarified butter, ginger, garlic, chili, yogurt, turmeric and salt. Rub and message well into each piece vigorously by using hand. Cover and allow the meat to marinate up to four hours in room temperature or can be placed in the refrigerator overnight. Bring it back to room temperature before cooking.
2.When ready to proceed, heat oil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat. When hot, add Onion and cook until golden brown and until the oil starts separating from the side of the pan. Add tomato and cook until all the moisture has evaporated, stirring frequently. Mix ground cumin, coriander and fennel. Add marinated meat pieces and mix to coat the spices well. Add ½ cup of water and continue cooking covered. When it is boiling, reduce the heat to simmer. Continue cooking until the meat is tender and the sauce is reduced and thickened.
3.At this stage of cooking, the oil will start to separate and float on top of the gravy. Add garam masala and stir well. Add more water (2 tablespoons at a time) if the meat is not cooked, continue cooking until the desired tenderness is obtained. The secret to success this recipe is to keep adding small amount of water and let it evaporate before more is added. Remove from heat and adjust salt. When ready to serve, transfer to serving dish, add cilantro and scallions. Serve hot.
In the end, I couldn't eat it all. It was just too exotic for me. I wish I'd just gotten my usual chicken and lettuce sandwich instead.
Goat is the most widely consumed meat in the world, a staple of, among others, Mexican, Indian, Greek and southern Italian cuisines. Moreover, it’s been edging its way into yuppier climes for a year or so now, click-clacking its cloven hooves up and down the coasts and to places like Houston and Des Moines. (When New York magazine proclaimed eating goat a “trendlet” last summer, one reader wrote on the magazine’s Web site, “Here are white people again!!!! Acting like they invented goat meat.”)
Here's the recipe in case you want to make it at home:
In this recipe, the meat is marinated in a small amount of yogurt, ginger, garlic, red chili paste, turmeric, salt and clarified butter for up to four hours. It is then cooked with several other herbs and spices. Nepali garam masala or masu ko masala is added at the end of cooking process to retain pleasant aroma. The meat cooks in its own juice with the help of some water. The marinated spices add flavor and tenderness. It is served with rice, puffed-bread, chiura and a selection of chutney and vegetables.
Ingredients
3 pounds lean goat meat, (bone-in or boneless - preferably from shoulder or leg), cut into 1 or 1 ½-inch cubes, excess fat removed
1 tablespoon clarified butter (ghee)
1½-inch piece fresh gingerroot, peeled and minced to fine paste (to yield 11/2 tablespoons)
6 medium cloves garlic, peeled and minced and mashed to paste (to yield 1 tablespoon)
whole red dried chili pepper, stemmed, broken into 2 pieces, seeded, soaked in ½ cup hot water until doubled in size, drained and minced to fine paste
½ cup unflavored plain yogurt, lightly beaten
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
salt to taste
4 tablespoon light oil (any variety)
1 pound yellow or white onion, peeled and chopped fine (to yield 4 cups)
3-4 medium size vine-ripened red tomato, finely chopped or mashed
1 tablespoon cumin, dry-roasted and ground
1 ½ tablespoon coriander, dry-roasted and ground
1 teaspoon fennel seed, dry-roasted and ground
½ cup water and more if needed
2 teaspoon Nepali garam masala or masu ko masala
1 or 2 bunches of cilantro leaves (fresh coriander), washed well, chopped to yield ½ cup
4 scallions, white and pale green parts only, root end discarded and sliced into cubes
Directions
1.Wash meat pieces thoroughly with cold water. Cut into 1 or a ½ inch pieces. Trim away as much visible fat as possible. Prepare the herb and spices as indicated in the ingredients. In a mixing bowl, combine meat, clarified butter, ginger, garlic, chili, yogurt, turmeric and salt. Rub and message well into each piece vigorously by using hand. Cover and allow the meat to marinate up to four hours in room temperature or can be placed in the refrigerator overnight. Bring it back to room temperature before cooking.
2.When ready to proceed, heat oil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat. When hot, add Onion and cook until golden brown and until the oil starts separating from the side of the pan. Add tomato and cook until all the moisture has evaporated, stirring frequently. Mix ground cumin, coriander and fennel. Add marinated meat pieces and mix to coat the spices well. Add ½ cup of water and continue cooking covered. When it is boiling, reduce the heat to simmer. Continue cooking until the meat is tender and the sauce is reduced and thickened.
3.At this stage of cooking, the oil will start to separate and float on top of the gravy. Add garam masala and stir well. Add more water (2 tablespoons at a time) if the meat is not cooked, continue cooking until the desired tenderness is obtained. The secret to success this recipe is to keep adding small amount of water and let it evaporate before more is added. Remove from heat and adjust salt. When ready to serve, transfer to serving dish, add cilantro and scallions. Serve hot.
Fab lemon ice
I made a fab lemon ice for a couple of dinner parties coming up this week. But instead of using just lemon juice, I put half limoncello, the lemon liqueur made in Italy. Oohwee -- a zesty alcohol-ridden icy treat. What more could you want in the summer?
Here's the recipe:
4 cups water
2 cups sugar
¾ cup lemon juice (I use half limoncello)
Make a syrup by boiling water and sugar five minutes; add lemon juice; cool, strain, and freeze.
(I quadrupled the recipe so I'll have plenty this week.)
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Prince Charles: stupid or silly?
I enjoyed this article in Slate today. Here's a snippet with the full URL at the bottom so you can read the whole thing for yourself:
This is what you get when you found a political system on the family values of Henry VIII. At a point in the not-too-remote future, the stout heart of Queen Elizabeth II will cease to beat. At that precise moment, her firstborn son will become head of state, head of the armed forces, and head of the Church of England. In strict constitutional terms, this ought not to matter much. The English monarchy, as has been said, reigns but does not rule. From the aesthetic point of view it will matter a bit, because the prospect of a morose bat-eared and chinless man, prematurely aged, and with the most abysmal taste in royal consorts, is a distinctly lowering one. And a king does have the ability to alter the atmosphere and to affect the ways in which important matters are discussed....
We have known for a long time that Prince Charles' empty sails are so rigged as to be swelled by any passing waft or breeze of crankiness and cant. He fell for the fake anthropologist Laurens van der Post. He was bowled over by the charms of homeopathic medicine. He has been believably reported as saying that plants do better if you talk to them in a soothing and encouraging way....
A hereditary head of state, as Thomas Paine so crisply phrased it, is as absurd a proposition as a hereditary physician or a hereditary astronomer. To this innate absurdity, Prince Charles manages to bring fatuities that are entirely his own. And, as he paged his way through his dreary wad of babble, there must have been some wolfish smiles among his Muslim audience. I quote from a recent document published by the Islamic Forum of Europe, a group dedicated to the restoration of the Islamic Caliphate and the imposition of sharia, which has been very active in London mosques and in the infiltration of local political parties. "The primary work" in the establishment of a future Muslim empire, it announces, "is in Europe, because it is this continent, despite all the furore about its achievements, which has a moral and spiritual vacuum."
http://www.slate.com/id/2256915/
This is what you get when you found a political system on the family values of Henry VIII. At a point in the not-too-remote future, the stout heart of Queen Elizabeth II will cease to beat. At that precise moment, her firstborn son will become head of state, head of the armed forces, and head of the Church of England. In strict constitutional terms, this ought not to matter much. The English monarchy, as has been said, reigns but does not rule. From the aesthetic point of view it will matter a bit, because the prospect of a morose bat-eared and chinless man, prematurely aged, and with the most abysmal taste in royal consorts, is a distinctly lowering one. And a king does have the ability to alter the atmosphere and to affect the ways in which important matters are discussed....
We have known for a long time that Prince Charles' empty sails are so rigged as to be swelled by any passing waft or breeze of crankiness and cant. He fell for the fake anthropologist Laurens van der Post. He was bowled over by the charms of homeopathic medicine. He has been believably reported as saying that plants do better if you talk to them in a soothing and encouraging way....
A hereditary head of state, as Thomas Paine so crisply phrased it, is as absurd a proposition as a hereditary physician or a hereditary astronomer. To this innate absurdity, Prince Charles manages to bring fatuities that are entirely his own. And, as he paged his way through his dreary wad of babble, there must have been some wolfish smiles among his Muslim audience. I quote from a recent document published by the Islamic Forum of Europe, a group dedicated to the restoration of the Islamic Caliphate and the imposition of sharia, which has been very active in London mosques and in the infiltration of local political parties. "The primary work" in the establishment of a future Muslim empire, it announces, "is in Europe, because it is this continent, despite all the furore about its achievements, which has a moral and spiritual vacuum."
http://www.slate.com/id/2256915/
Kabuki on Sunday
My daughter loves anything Japanese so when Kabuki theatre came to London, she made me go with her.
Dating from the early 17th century, Kabuki is a highly stylised performing art that employs flamboyant costumes, elaborate make-up and exaggerated body movements to create a sense of the spectacular.
I haven't seen anything so strange in years. Kabuki is all men -- no women allowed, even in female roles. The men speak and sing the women's part in a strange high-pitched traditional way that sounds odd to Western ears.
People shout out strange words at specific intervals to encourage the actors. I had no idea what was going on. We wore a simultaneous translator device so we could hear it in English.
Here's a clip:
Dating from the early 17th century, Kabuki is a highly stylised performing art that employs flamboyant costumes, elaborate make-up and exaggerated body movements to create a sense of the spectacular.
I haven't seen anything so strange in years. Kabuki is all men -- no women allowed, even in female roles. The men speak and sing the women's part in a strange high-pitched traditional way that sounds odd to Western ears.
People shout out strange words at specific intervals to encourage the actors. I had no idea what was going on. We wore a simultaneous translator device so we could hear it in English.
Here's a clip:
Monday, 14 June 2010
Waiters in India and my celebrity status
Above is a pic of one of the meals at the wedding I went to in India recently. We were forever eating the most beautiful vegetarian dishes. We would eat while the ceremony went on then the mother of the groom would tell me that we were going to 'have a little lunch' -- and we'd eat some more.
I liked this style of serving (below). Because labor is so cheap in India, they had about seven servers for our one table. They'd dish out a little portion of the food then circle around the table and be back at your plate 30 seconds later to see if you wanted more food. Here's a pic I took of the line -- but this is only like half of the waiters who just walked in a circle over and over to serve more food.
I noticed so many boys working as waiters. They should be in school, I thought. I read somewhere that you can leave school at 14 in India so that must be what they had done.
People treated me like a movie star -- or Santa Claus
The people at the wedding I went to in India were so interested in me because I was different looking. The wedding was in a neighborhood where there are no white people living, so I was sort of a freak there.
I was waiting outside the wedding hall, and a bus went past and people hung out of the window yelling, "White Girl!" That made me laugh.
And towards the end of the second evening, people were crowding around me, wanting to take photos of me with them. Then they would take turns coming to sit by me, and I would ask them friendly questions like "What are you studying in school?" I felt sort of like Santa Claus.
Here's a group of them wanting my attention.
I was trying to eat with one hand, as I described in an earlier post, and I would feel hot lights on me, and someone would be filming me. It was such an experience.
Sunday, 13 June 2010
America stops England's World Cup walkover
England was supposed to blow America out of the water at their World Cup match last night in South Africa. But America kept them to a draw. It was remarkable that England played so badly -- they are a much stronger team. My son and I were happy but my husband and daughter didn't like the result at all.
Here's what England is saying this morning:
"America the brave ruined the World Cup party for England last night." -- The Times
"The Americans are celebrating. Not only did the football association make us drink Budweiser at the stadium, THEIR beer, but we also had to listen to them gloat at the end." -- Disgrunted England fan
Insensitive newspaper headline today: "One disastrous spill the Yanks won't complain about." (the goalkeeper fumbled the ball and it went in for an American goal.)
Here's what England is saying this morning:
"America the brave ruined the World Cup party for England last night." -- The Times
"The Americans are celebrating. Not only did the football association make us drink Budweiser at the stadium, THEIR beer, but we also had to listen to them gloat at the end." -- Disgrunted England fan
Insensitive newspaper headline today: "One disastrous spill the Yanks won't complain about." (the goalkeeper fumbled the ball and it went in for an American goal.)
Living the 5-star guilt-ridden life
So let's talk about guilt. When I was in India, I stayed at a brand-new five-star hotel near Bollywood. Here it is:
Because everything is so cheap in India, I could get a five-star hotel for the same price as I'd pay for a Travelodge room in the US or UK. There was even a guy in the restaurant who brought me special dishes to try and told me all about the cuisine as I ate:
There was a brand new gleaming swimming pool that no one was using with incredible views over the city. But if I looked down at those views, I'd see this:
You've never seen anything like these slums. People were living their lives on the street at night because they had no where else to go. I'd see a woman sewing in the night but there was no front to her house so she was out in the open. Families live in little boxes with metal roofs. It was shocking. It made me realize how easy I have it in the West, and how rich I am, even if I don't feel rich in comparison to my friends with money who drive Jags and have big houses in Hampshire.
I went to find some water at a shop and ran across this man sleeping on the pavement
-- a not untypical sight in Mumbai:
One of the people I met at my friend's wedding explained that there is no social security or welfare in India. It's every man for himself if he can't find work or feed himself. I was wondering if that's what the American Tea Baggers want when they say they want to get the government out of their lives?
Because everything is so cheap in India, I could get a five-star hotel for the same price as I'd pay for a Travelodge room in the US or UK. There was even a guy in the restaurant who brought me special dishes to try and told me all about the cuisine as I ate:
There was a brand new gleaming swimming pool that no one was using with incredible views over the city. But if I looked down at those views, I'd see this:
You've never seen anything like these slums. People were living their lives on the street at night because they had no where else to go. I'd see a woman sewing in the night but there was no front to her house so she was out in the open. Families live in little boxes with metal roofs. It was shocking. It made me realize how easy I have it in the West, and how rich I am, even if I don't feel rich in comparison to my friends with money who drive Jags and have big houses in Hampshire.
I went to find some water at a shop and ran across this man sleeping on the pavement
-- a not untypical sight in Mumbai:
One of the people I met at my friend's wedding explained that there is no social security or welfare in India. It's every man for himself if he can't find work or feed himself. I was wondering if that's what the American Tea Baggers want when they say they want to get the government out of their lives?
Saturday, 12 June 2010
America v. England in World Cup drama
Today is a huge big deal in the sports calendar -- England's first game in the World Cup and they are playing America. I wrote yesterday about how a guy at work put a hundred English flags up at work and taunted me about how badly the US would lose. I took it all in my mature way but today....
I thought, the hell with it. Let's show the world who we want to win, so we put up an American flag. Here's my son with it -- btw, aren't my roses beautiful?
Feelings run so high over football/soccer here that my husband said I'd probably have a brick through the window before the day was over.
I thought, the hell with it. Let's show the world who we want to win, so we put up an American flag. Here's my son with it -- btw, aren't my roses beautiful?
Feelings run so high over football/soccer here that my husband said I'd probably have a brick through the window before the day was over.
Chorus rehearsal last night
I went up to London after work to participate in vocal training by our chorus master. One of the songs we worked on was this beautiful thing by John Dowland (1563-1626) called Now Oh Now I Needs Must Part. It would be a great song for a funeral (if any of you want to request it, I'll be happy to sing it for you). :)
I couldn't find a very good recording of it on YouTube so you can hear the song yourselves. This one is the best although my chorus master would kill the singers for scooping their voices when they sing. (For example, when they sing the word God. You aren't supposed to sing 'guh-odd' but just hit the word dead on and sing it.)
Ditzy Yoga Teachers
On the way home from rehearsals, I sat between a couple of yoga teachers. Did they have an inane conversation:
Yoga Teacher #1: "My husband said, 'you have to do what's best for you. You don't have to explain everything or defend yourself to.'"
Yoga Teacher #2: "He's absolutely right."
Yoga Teacher #1: "Even though I really like her. She's very spiritual. She does chakras and things...." (voice trails off here as she can't think of any other reasons as to why this woman is spiritual)
I couldn't find a very good recording of it on YouTube so you can hear the song yourselves. This one is the best although my chorus master would kill the singers for scooping their voices when they sing. (For example, when they sing the word God. You aren't supposed to sing 'guh-odd' but just hit the word dead on and sing it.)
Ditzy Yoga Teachers
On the way home from rehearsals, I sat between a couple of yoga teachers. Did they have an inane conversation:
Yoga Teacher #1: "My husband said, 'you have to do what's best for you. You don't have to explain everything or defend yourself to
Yoga Teacher #2: "He's absolutely right."
Yoga Teacher #1: "Even though I really like her. She's very spiritual. She does chakras and things...." (voice trails off here as she can't think of any other reasons as to why this woman is spiritual)
Friday, 11 June 2010
A lone American up against the British Empire
The US plays the UK tomorrow in World Cup soccer (football to Brits). Brits are trying to intimidate me in office this morning by putting up a hundred English flags.
UK/US relations already at a low with BP oil spill. British people and newspapers are angry at Obama for trashing BP on the airwaves and sending the stock lower because so many pensions are filled with BP stock.
The CEO of BP didn't help with his silly comments like, "I just want to get my life back," when people have died and many are losing their livelihoods.
I am the only American in the office so it's up to me to fight this onslaught of the British Empire on my own. (I can handle it.)
Which reminds me...last night my daughter was talking about where she would end up practicing medicine. She thought about France -- maybe Australia -- then I said, "Katie, can't you hear the whispering of your homeland?" I was still for a second then said, "I can hear it. America is calling for you to come home."
Do you think she'll fall for that? If my kids decide to live in America, I can go back there and annoy them in my golden years and get some sun. It's still raining and cold in England and it's almost mid-June.
Back to BP mess between the US and UK. Here's a comment from a Brit newspaper:
It's time for David Cameron to speak up for BP
As British marines continue to die in Afghanistan - fighting valiantly alongside their American colleagues - this has not been a good week for the politicians who lead the two countries belonging to what has been called the special relationship, a phrase which sounds increasingly hollow today.
In the US, an ever more rabid President Obama continues to attack British - as he loves to sneeringly describe it - Petroleum.
Community Disapproval
Another thing I noticed in India was when someone did something that falls foul of the rules of society, people don't say anything verbal but do a loud TSKing sound. It's louder than an English or American sound of tsk. It's more of a clucking than a tsking. And it's amazing how it sounds when a few people do it.
When I was in Mumbai, someone cut in front of others in a line. Instead of shouting, "There's a queue here!" like they would in England, loads of people starting TSKing -- the effect is amazing -- it says so loudly YOU HAVE VIOLATED ONE OF OUR RULES from the community that the offender gets the message loud and clear.
When I was in Mumbai, someone cut in front of others in a line. Instead of shouting, "There's a queue here!" like they would in England, loads of people starting TSKing -- the effect is amazing -- it says so loudly YOU HAVE VIOLATED ONE OF OUR RULES from the community that the offender gets the message loud and clear.
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Do Not Spit
I made note of some interesting signs in India. A common one was:
Do Not Spit. Spitting spreads TB.
Just in case you did spit and someone gets TB, there are lots of signs proclaiming TB Specialist over the doors of poor houses. One of them even said Cardiologist. And Bum Specialist was another good one.
And on the back of cars I saw signs like this:
Horn. OK. Please.
This means that when you have your car right up the backside of the car in front of you, it is OK to honk to let that person know. I have never seen traffic like Indian traffic. Everyone is fighting for space on the road and begging kids weave in and out of the traffic. One of them was so plaintive at my window that I gave him my water and some money.
Driver takes me shopping and gives me no lip, unlike a husband
You know what I liked about having a car and driver while I was there? (You can't rent a car in Mumbai as the driving conditions are too hazardous -- you have to have a driver.) What I liked was that I could get in the car, tell the guy in the car to drive me to a shopping center, and he would do it, no lip! Now if I jumped in the car with my husband as the driver, it would be a whole 'nother story.
Wedding procession
On the way to get married, my friend the groom had to get on a decorated horse and ride at the front of a procession.
There was a band and hordes of people. My friend had to stop to be asked questions along the way before he could proceed (some Indian tradition that I don't understand). Each time he proceeded with the horse, we had to dance all around him. I did it for a while but the heat was too bad so they let me sit in an air-conditioned car with the old aunties for the rest of the time.
Here am I waiting for the procession to start:
Do Not Spit. Spitting spreads TB.
Just in case you did spit and someone gets TB, there are lots of signs proclaiming TB Specialist over the doors of poor houses. One of them even said Cardiologist. And Bum Specialist was another good one.
And on the back of cars I saw signs like this:
Horn. OK. Please.
This means that when you have your car right up the backside of the car in front of you, it is OK to honk to let that person know. I have never seen traffic like Indian traffic. Everyone is fighting for space on the road and begging kids weave in and out of the traffic. One of them was so plaintive at my window that I gave him my water and some money.
Driver takes me shopping and gives me no lip, unlike a husband
You know what I liked about having a car and driver while I was there? (You can't rent a car in Mumbai as the driving conditions are too hazardous -- you have to have a driver.) What I liked was that I could get in the car, tell the guy in the car to drive me to a shopping center, and he would do it, no lip! Now if I jumped in the car with my husband as the driver, it would be a whole 'nother story.
Wedding procession
On the way to get married, my friend the groom had to get on a decorated horse and ride at the front of a procession.
There was a band and hordes of people. My friend had to stop to be asked questions along the way before he could proceed (some Indian tradition that I don't understand). Each time he proceeded with the horse, we had to dance all around him. I did it for a while but the heat was too bad so they let me sit in an air-conditioned car with the old aunties for the rest of the time.
Here am I waiting for the procession to start:
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Poor new bride
My friend whose wedding I attended in India is back in England now with his new bride. It's one of those chilly rainy days in England where summer weather appears to be a fantasy, and I felt sorry for the poor girl. It reminded me of the time when I first came to England after my marriage -- it was so rainy, cold and dark. I thought it was just one of those rainy days like you get in Mississippi and that the sun would soon be out.
Boy, was I wrong. Months later, I was still waiting for the sun.
There's the bride in the pic below. She's the person looking at the camera.
The Difference Between American and British Tourists
Let me tell you one thing I noticed. I could always tell British tourists in India apart from American ones.
American tourists always wear sensible shoes to walk in. For women, it is invariably white sneakers. If you look at the feet of female tourists first in foreign lands and you see a big white pair of tennis shoes/trainers, keep looking up and your eyes will, I'll bet, land on the face of an American.
Brits, on the other hand, never seem to dress sensibly, or even with respect for the culture they find themselves in. You're supposed to dress a bit modestly in India, covering your legs at least, but the Brits I saw had on little tops with short shorts. For example, when I saw a woman wearing clunky white plastic earrings and a strappy top with over-peroxided blonde hair, I knew I was looking at a Brit.
I'm generalizing horribly, I know.
Boy, was I wrong. Months later, I was still waiting for the sun.
There's the bride in the pic below. She's the person looking at the camera.
The Difference Between American and British Tourists
Let me tell you one thing I noticed. I could always tell British tourists in India apart from American ones.
American tourists always wear sensible shoes to walk in. For women, it is invariably white sneakers. If you look at the feet of female tourists first in foreign lands and you see a big white pair of tennis shoes/trainers, keep looking up and your eyes will, I'll bet, land on the face of an American.
Brits, on the other hand, never seem to dress sensibly, or even with respect for the culture they find themselves in. You're supposed to dress a bit modestly in India, covering your legs at least, but the Brits I saw had on little tops with short shorts. For example, when I saw a woman wearing clunky white plastic earrings and a strappy top with over-peroxided blonde hair, I knew I was looking at a Brit.
I'm generalizing horribly, I know.
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Tragic atheism
I read this on Andrew Sullivan's website and liked the point made. And love the phrase about religion's 'melancholy, long, withdrawing roar' as it retreats in the wake of scientific advances:
"In Steven Weinberg's 1977 book about the earliest origins of the universe (The First Three Minutes), Weinberg stated in passing that “the more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it seems pointless.” When some of his fellow cosmologists objected to the choice of words, accusing him of expressing, if only implicitly, some form of theological nostalgia for a non-scientific view of the world, Weinberg admitted that he is indeed nostalgic—“nostalgic for a world in which the heavens declared the glory of God.”
Associating himself with the nineteenth-century poet Matthew Arnold, who likened the retreat of religious faith in the face of scientific progress to the ebbing ocean tide and claimed to detect a “note of sadness” in its “melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,” Weinberg confessed to his own sorrow in doubting that scientists will find “in the laws of nature a plan prepared by a concerned creator in which human beings played some special role.” When it comes to God, what Weinberg believes to be true and what he wishes to be true simply do not coincide."
"In Steven Weinberg's 1977 book about the earliest origins of the universe (The First Three Minutes), Weinberg stated in passing that “the more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it seems pointless.” When some of his fellow cosmologists objected to the choice of words, accusing him of expressing, if only implicitly, some form of theological nostalgia for a non-scientific view of the world, Weinberg admitted that he is indeed nostalgic—“nostalgic for a world in which the heavens declared the glory of God.”
Associating himself with the nineteenth-century poet Matthew Arnold, who likened the retreat of religious faith in the face of scientific progress to the ebbing ocean tide and claimed to detect a “note of sadness” in its “melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,” Weinberg confessed to his own sorrow in doubting that scientists will find “in the laws of nature a plan prepared by a concerned creator in which human beings played some special role.” When it comes to God, what Weinberg believes to be true and what he wishes to be true simply do not coincide."
Monday, 7 June 2010
The music of marriage
The origin of Indian music is said to be rooted in the Vedas. It is said that God Himself is musical sound, the sound which pervades the whole universe.
My friend's wedding in India was such an exotic experience. I never knew what to expect next. The night before the wedding, I was sitting watching the stage because I knew a musical group was going to perform. Also they were going to do the cutest skit (an English speaker told me in advance). They got family members to portray the bride and groom at different points in their lives for an amusing play. But that was to come -- I was sitting facing the stage when suddenly I heard the most unearthly sound -- like the heavens themselves had opened up. A couple of guys were playing this instrument:
I had never heard such a sound in all my life! It was amazing. I tried to find a recording of the way these instruments sounded but haven't been able to. But it was like they were blowing the roof off the wedding hall.
Here's a Gujurati song like we danced to that night -- don't know why they have this odd baby figure but see his dance moves? That's what I had to do in a circle with other dancers. It was fun after I got the hang of it.
My friend's wedding in India was such an exotic experience. I never knew what to expect next. The night before the wedding, I was sitting watching the stage because I knew a musical group was going to perform. Also they were going to do the cutest skit (an English speaker told me in advance). They got family members to portray the bride and groom at different points in their lives for an amusing play. But that was to come -- I was sitting facing the stage when suddenly I heard the most unearthly sound -- like the heavens themselves had opened up. A couple of guys were playing this instrument:
I had never heard such a sound in all my life! It was amazing. I tried to find a recording of the way these instruments sounded but haven't been able to. But it was like they were blowing the roof off the wedding hall.
Here's a Gujurati song like we danced to that night -- don't know why they have this odd baby figure but see his dance moves? That's what I had to do in a circle with other dancers. It was fun after I got the hang of it.
Indian telephone booth
I was amused to see old-fashioned phones just sticking out of walls on the street in India. I guess that's their version of a phone booth:
Sunday, 6 June 2010
May your love last 7 lifetimes
The wedding I went to in India last week was beautiful. Check out this photo I got on my Nokia phone. I work with the groom, Hemel:
One thing I had no idea about though was that I could only eat with my right hand because the left hand is considered unclean. I figured it out pretty quickly after I went to the bathroom though and saw there was just a drain in the floor and a faucet for water nearby. You use your left hand for that -- so of course you couldn't eat with it later or touch anyone with it. There was no soap or toilet paper or anything like that available.
Even in the fancy shop I went to in Mumbai where there was an actual toilet to sit on there was no soap or toilet paper. That's OK, though, I coped. It was just a bit of a culture shock for me.
When I was at the wedding, the only utensil was a spoon to use for mango soup -- other than that, you ate with your right hand. Tearing bread was a trial -- and getting the food to my mouth with one hand -- well, I don't have any experience with eating with my hand other than eating a piece of pizza. It's hard to get curries to your mouth without lots of it dropping on to your sari.
Anyway, back to the beautiful wedding itself -- after the marriage was sealed, someone shouted this blessing to the couple:
May your love last seven lifetimes!
What a wonderful thing to say, I thought.
One thing I had no idea about though was that I could only eat with my right hand because the left hand is considered unclean. I figured it out pretty quickly after I went to the bathroom though and saw there was just a drain in the floor and a faucet for water nearby. You use your left hand for that -- so of course you couldn't eat with it later or touch anyone with it. There was no soap or toilet paper or anything like that available.
Even in the fancy shop I went to in Mumbai where there was an actual toilet to sit on there was no soap or toilet paper. That's OK, though, I coped. It was just a bit of a culture shock for me.
When I was at the wedding, the only utensil was a spoon to use for mango soup -- other than that, you ate with your right hand. Tearing bread was a trial -- and getting the food to my mouth with one hand -- well, I don't have any experience with eating with my hand other than eating a piece of pizza. It's hard to get curries to your mouth without lots of it dropping on to your sari.
Anyway, back to the beautiful wedding itself -- after the marriage was sealed, someone shouted this blessing to the couple:
May your love last seven lifetimes!
What a wonderful thing to say, I thought.
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Indian scenes
It's so hot in India, as you know. I carefully planned and packed my very lightest clothes so I could cope with the heat. You have to cover up though, so I couldn't wear shorts or anything. It's offensive, for example, to have your legs bare. But I had to abandon the clothes in the suitcase by the next day as it was far too hot. I went to see, for example, the famous Gateway to India but I couldn't even stand to look at it for more than three minutes in the 110 degree heat.
When we drove past another landmark, the car driver said, "Stop please?" meaning did I want to get out and have a look but I said, "No thanks." It was too hot to even get out by then.
I went to a mall near my hotel and got some suitable clothes for the weather. Kurta is the top - it's light cotton and the bottoms are like cotton pajama bottoms called churidar - they are made way too long so you bunch them up at the ankles so they look like bracelets. Here's an example:
Here I am in my kurta.
I'm going to try and wear this outfit in England as it's like wearing pajamas -- hope not too many people laugh at me.
The beaches in Mumbai are deserted by day -- must be because the water is so polluted but at sunset Indians pour onto the beaches for some relief from the heat of the day. They don't go swimming though -- they just get their feet wet and eat food from the colorful food stalls. Also chai wallahs (tea boys) walk up and down the beach with metal containers full of hot tea to sell.
I went to Juhu Beach to experience it. Behind me are hundreds and hundreds of Indians enjoying a respite from the heat:
Here are the food stalls. I didn't get anything because I was scared of getting an upset stomach before the wedding. It didn't matter really as I got sick from the trip anyway in the end:
The car driver and I walked back to the car just as drama was unfolding.
A man slapped his wife in one corner of the car park and the nosey taxi drivers followed the drama as the couple walked off. Here they are after having walked over to check out the latest doings and discuss it among themselves. Then I took a pic, and they were like 'she take our photo' and weren't happy. In the end the couple came back and the woman kissed her tormenter. Stupid.
One other quotable quote from that evening. The driver was pulling out of the car park when he turned to me and announced:
"Ma'am, a recess is forthcoming."
(Everyone called me ma'am. Not like in a Southern way -- 'yes ma'am' at the end of a sentence but just as if it were my name. 'Ma'am, no, you do not want to eat that.')
Anyway, the driver sounded so serious. What could this recess be?
Then he stopped the car in the middle of traffic and ran off to have a quick wee.
When we drove past another landmark, the car driver said, "Stop please?" meaning did I want to get out and have a look but I said, "No thanks." It was too hot to even get out by then.
I went to a mall near my hotel and got some suitable clothes for the weather. Kurta is the top - it's light cotton and the bottoms are like cotton pajama bottoms called churidar - they are made way too long so you bunch them up at the ankles so they look like bracelets. Here's an example:
Here I am in my kurta.
I'm going to try and wear this outfit in England as it's like wearing pajamas -- hope not too many people laugh at me.
The beaches in Mumbai are deserted by day -- must be because the water is so polluted but at sunset Indians pour onto the beaches for some relief from the heat of the day. They don't go swimming though -- they just get their feet wet and eat food from the colorful food stalls. Also chai wallahs (tea boys) walk up and down the beach with metal containers full of hot tea to sell.
I went to Juhu Beach to experience it. Behind me are hundreds and hundreds of Indians enjoying a respite from the heat:
Here are the food stalls. I didn't get anything because I was scared of getting an upset stomach before the wedding. It didn't matter really as I got sick from the trip anyway in the end:
The car driver and I walked back to the car just as drama was unfolding.
A man slapped his wife in one corner of the car park and the nosey taxi drivers followed the drama as the couple walked off. Here they are after having walked over to check out the latest doings and discuss it among themselves. Then I took a pic, and they were like 'she take our photo' and weren't happy. In the end the couple came back and the woman kissed her tormenter. Stupid.
One other quotable quote from that evening. The driver was pulling out of the car park when he turned to me and announced:
"Ma'am, a recess is forthcoming."
(Everyone called me ma'am. Not like in a Southern way -- 'yes ma'am' at the end of a sentence but just as if it were my name. 'Ma'am, no, you do not want to eat that.')
Anyway, the driver sounded so serious. What could this recess be?
Then he stopped the car in the middle of traffic and ran off to have a quick wee.
Friday, 4 June 2010
Defiling a temple
I'm still ill after my trip to India. I must have drunk some bad water? My husband's friend at work, an Indian, said that the bottled water can be dodgy there so he always loads up with bottles of water at the airport after he lands to use during his trip. NOW he tells me?? Thanks -- guess I'll know for next time.
In the meantime, I'll tell you about my trip to the Jain temple in Mumbai. Jain is the religion of my wedding hosts so I thought I should make an effort to learn about it.
The temple was so colorful and beautiful inside:
I learned that Jains are a peace loving people who won't hurt anything so are vegetarians, won't fight in military conflicts, etc. They hope to grow as people on this earth through discipline -- abstaining from drink, over-eating and violence.
A very nice experience for me. I was just leaving the temple when I spotted this sign:
OMG! I totally violated Rule number 3! What happened then? Did I defile the place? I slunk out in shame....
In the meantime, I'll tell you about my trip to the Jain temple in Mumbai. Jain is the religion of my wedding hosts so I thought I should make an effort to learn about it.
The temple was so colorful and beautiful inside:
I learned that Jains are a peace loving people who won't hurt anything so are vegetarians, won't fight in military conflicts, etc. They hope to grow as people on this earth through discipline -- abstaining from drink, over-eating and violence.
A very nice experience for me. I was just leaving the temple when I spotted this sign:
OMG! I totally violated Rule number 3! What happened then? Did I defile the place? I slunk out in shame....
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Near Death Experiences -- real or bogus?
I picked up a bug in India and feel like I'm going to die. I can't eat -- only eat popsicles (ice lollies to Brits) -- and spend most of my time in the bathroom. I won't be able to tell you about my adventures in India today but since I feel like death, here's a post on the subject that I wrote earlier:
I have a friend who thinks people having near-death experiences really see long-dead relatives and things in the past that they can't have known about. We had a mini-argument about it one time, which is why I thought of her when I read this in Live Science:
People who report near-death experiences have elevated levels of carbon dioxide in their blood and may be suffering oxygen deprivations, according to a new study published in the medical journal Critical Care.
The study, by Slovenian researchers, examined 52 heart attack patients in three large hospitals. Of those, 11 reported having near-death experiences (NDEs), such as movement toward a bright light, feelings of peace and joy, and profoundly spiritual moments during their heart attacks. Studies suggest that between 10 percent and 25 percent of heart attack survivors report NDEs.
Exactly why has remained a mystery, but the new study provides a clue. The link between oxygen deprivation in the brain and near-death experience has been suggested for many years. British researcher Dr. Susan Blackmore, author of "Dying to Live: Near-Death Experiences" (Prometheus Books, 1993), notes that many NDEs (such as euphoria and the feeling of moving toward a white light) are in fact typical symptoms of oxygen deprivation.
Heart attacks occur when the supply of blood is blocked from the heart. The heart stops circulating blood, and as a result the brain is deprived of oxygen while carbon dioxide increases. Carbon dioxide is toxic in high concentrations, starting at about 1 percent of the inhaled air (10,000 parts per million). For comparison, the gas occurs naturally in a concentration of about 0.039 percent of the atmosphere, though it varies according to altitude, season, and other factors.
Not only are the symptoms of anoxia (oxygen deprivation) very similar to the symptoms of an NDE, but patients who had the highest concentrations of carbon dioxide in their blood reported significantly more NDEs than those with lower levels.
In response to the stress of the heart attack, pain-killing endorphins are released, which can create elation and hallucinations.
I have a friend who thinks people having near-death experiences really see long-dead relatives and things in the past that they can't have known about. We had a mini-argument about it one time, which is why I thought of her when I read this in Live Science:
People who report near-death experiences have elevated levels of carbon dioxide in their blood and may be suffering oxygen deprivations, according to a new study published in the medical journal Critical Care.
The study, by Slovenian researchers, examined 52 heart attack patients in three large hospitals. Of those, 11 reported having near-death experiences (NDEs), such as movement toward a bright light, feelings of peace and joy, and profoundly spiritual moments during their heart attacks. Studies suggest that between 10 percent and 25 percent of heart attack survivors report NDEs.
Exactly why has remained a mystery, but the new study provides a clue. The link between oxygen deprivation in the brain and near-death experience has been suggested for many years. British researcher Dr. Susan Blackmore, author of "Dying to Live: Near-Death Experiences" (Prometheus Books, 1993), notes that many NDEs (such as euphoria and the feeling of moving toward a white light) are in fact typical symptoms of oxygen deprivation.
Heart attacks occur when the supply of blood is blocked from the heart. The heart stops circulating blood, and as a result the brain is deprived of oxygen while carbon dioxide increases. Carbon dioxide is toxic in high concentrations, starting at about 1 percent of the inhaled air (10,000 parts per million). For comparison, the gas occurs naturally in a concentration of about 0.039 percent of the atmosphere, though it varies according to altitude, season, and other factors.
Not only are the symptoms of anoxia (oxygen deprivation) very similar to the symptoms of an NDE, but patients who had the highest concentrations of carbon dioxide in their blood reported significantly more NDEs than those with lower levels.
In response to the stress of the heart attack, pain-killing endorphins are released, which can create elation and hallucinations.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Sad demise
I was up all last night with Delhi Belly -- oh it was bad. I thought I was going to die and end up like this guy from the Times of India newspaper I was reading whose death was described as a 'Sad Demise.' (It made me laugh, and I figured he didn't mind me laughing since he was dead.)
By 7:30 this morning I was desperate for sleep and a break from the bathroom. Then I remembered I'd bought Immodium Instants at the airport when I was traveling.
Yay, I was well enough to drive the 40 minutes to work but still feel like death.
By 7:30 this morning I was desperate for sleep and a break from the bathroom. Then I remembered I'd bought Immodium Instants at the airport when I was traveling.
Yay, I was well enough to drive the 40 minutes to work but still feel like death.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
As Jesus likes candles, Ganesha likes flowers and fruit
A friend and I were discussing travel the other week. She is sick of it and doesn't want to see any more cold buildings. I can see her point but I find that travelling makes me grow as a person. There are people in those buildings, and they have much to teach me.
The Indians I met on my trip last weekend were so welcoming and kind. They let me right into their family lives and explained their viewpoints on the world and religion carefully. I felt honored to be among them.
My first day, I went to the Siddhivinayak Temple in Mumbai (but I do love to call the city Bombay as it sounds so romantic). On the way in, the driver stopped by a stand and bought a plastic tray that contained a necklace of flowers and a big coconut. You can see the stand behind me:
We went into the temple, and he motioned to me to get in the women's line. I had no idea what I was standing in line for but could see a shrine getting closer and men inside the area taking the trays from devotees then giving them back. I could assume that they must be blessing the flowers and fruit but I wasn't sure.
Here is Ganesha, the god whose temple it was, covered with flowers:
I wanted to ask the driver what it all meant but he didn't speak much English. Back at the hotel, I asked one of the staff what it meant, the flowers and coconut. He explained it to me like this:
"As Jesus likes candles, Ganesha likes flowers and fruit."
Wasn't that a beautiful way to explain how the devotees worship in the temple. He also told me that I couldn't throw them away now that they were blessed. "They have to be thrown on water."
I kept the necklace of flowers in my hotel room for the next couple of days -- the fragrance was beautiful. Could I throw them away, I wondered, because I was a foreigner? I checked and found it would be deeply offensive to Indians if I did that. So I took them to my friend's family on the last day of my visit and asked them to throw them on water for me when they had the chance.
I saw a wonderful fusion of Hinduism and Christianity on my first day. I saw a shrine to Jesus near a beach, and his statue was decked with flowers as they would do with Ganesha. No candles anywhere.
Ganesha is one of the most popular deities in the Hindu pantheon. As he is reputed to be a remover of obstacles he is propitiated before the beginning of any new venture whether it is the building of a new house, the writing of a book, the beginning of a journey or the starting of a new business.
The Indians I met on my trip last weekend were so welcoming and kind. They let me right into their family lives and explained their viewpoints on the world and religion carefully. I felt honored to be among them.
My first day, I went to the Siddhivinayak Temple in Mumbai (but I do love to call the city Bombay as it sounds so romantic). On the way in, the driver stopped by a stand and bought a plastic tray that contained a necklace of flowers and a big coconut. You can see the stand behind me:
We went into the temple, and he motioned to me to get in the women's line. I had no idea what I was standing in line for but could see a shrine getting closer and men inside the area taking the trays from devotees then giving them back. I could assume that they must be blessing the flowers and fruit but I wasn't sure.
Here is Ganesha, the god whose temple it was, covered with flowers:
I wanted to ask the driver what it all meant but he didn't speak much English. Back at the hotel, I asked one of the staff what it meant, the flowers and coconut. He explained it to me like this:
"As Jesus likes candles, Ganesha likes flowers and fruit."
Wasn't that a beautiful way to explain how the devotees worship in the temple. He also told me that I couldn't throw them away now that they were blessed. "They have to be thrown on water."
I kept the necklace of flowers in my hotel room for the next couple of days -- the fragrance was beautiful. Could I throw them away, I wondered, because I was a foreigner? I checked and found it would be deeply offensive to Indians if I did that. So I took them to my friend's family on the last day of my visit and asked them to throw them on water for me when they had the chance.
I saw a wonderful fusion of Hinduism and Christianity on my first day. I saw a shrine to Jesus near a beach, and his statue was decked with flowers as they would do with Ganesha. No candles anywhere.
Ganesha is one of the most popular deities in the Hindu pantheon. As he is reputed to be a remover of obstacles he is propitiated before the beginning of any new venture whether it is the building of a new house, the writing of a book, the beginning of a journey or the starting of a new business.
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