I have a weird life...and I'm pretty nuts. This blog depicts the satirical and almost serious novelizations of my strangest moments in life. Some stories are serious...others are just over exaggerated.
By the way...I've noticed I have two voices. One is the over-sarcastic me and the second is a highly sympathetic me.
Please comment, R&R! I would love an audience!
Today I realized a blog entry that was supposed to exist for the past year never existed at all. Though the entry and story may be just as old, the thoughts and feelings live just as strong as when they first originated. So tonight I will rewrite it from memory…
In the summer of 2009, I went to China and had experienced what some might consider fate. Fate isn’t something most people believe in until they’ve experienced it. How can you believe in something that happens to everyone, day after day, to the billions of people? Everything is basically coincidence, is it not? I don’t know, and I’m not even sure if fate allowed me to even meet her. If fate gave me the opportunity to meet her, then my freewill has unwittingly destroyed the beauty of coincidence.
My brother, his colleague and I just climbed down Mount HuaShan in Xi’An. While the mountain’s seven-thousand foot elevation overlooked mere foothills in comparison, the exhaustive hike took 8 hours up, winding around mountains and climbing steps specifically designed for bound feet. As demeaning as that may sound, my size ten feet continuously hung off the narrow footsteps until I reached the summit at 2:00 am on July 5th and we camped without sleep on stone and in the wind, awaiting a gift from the west: sunrise.
That same day when the sun made the 8 am position, we climbed back down the mountain. Some say the climb down is faster and much easier. Yes, indeed that climb took a simple 6 hours down, but thighs and calves quivered uncontrollable with each step in much the same manner a weak tree branch is unsure of the weight it carries. But we needed to return and thus trudged through the streets of Xi’An, appreciating the various escalators the city offered at the entrances and exits to tunnels and street corners. Our legs refused steps. Our last night in the city, we watched a water light show and went to bed.
Exhaustion got the better of us and before we even reached the train station the next morning, we knew our train left. Instead of reclining on those beds closest to the floor, we trudged to a hostel and stayed on last night before leaving in the morning on July 7th. A McDonald’s sausage mc’muffin filled our spirits, even though we had the top most bunks instead of the bottom most bunk. Kids screamed and ran in straight lines because space didn’t provide enough room to run in circles. None of us were sure where to sleep. One of the beds is in this section, my brother’s colleague demanded to have the middle bunk. I didn’t actually care who slept where. I didn’t even know how kids possessed more adrenaline at 9:00 am than a full grown adult on 4 cups of coffee.
It really hits you when you see her, or just anyone so mesmerizing and yet you can't express your feelings. Even if I'm a hopeless romantic and choke on every word as if English somehow became a second language when I meet beautiful girls, this time I knew Chinese failed me. Even if we both spoke the same dialect or she miraculously spoke English, I don't think I could talk to her. What do I have to offer that she doesn't already possess? As time moved forward, she climbed down from the bed, and I stole a glance or two just to see her eyes and she sat next to me. There’s nothing special with the seat she chose. In this narrow hallway with only two seats for every 6 beds, only I’m lucky to be this close to a girl whom I can’t even talk to except for a simple “ni hao” in a broken Chinese accent.
I’d never expect it, but my brother’s colleague became my unwitting wingman. Full-blooded American without a hint of Chinese, other than confusing the Hua in HuaShan for 花 (huā - flower)and not华(huá - majestic), he could only speak English. Aside from my brother, I am the only fluent speaking English boy on that train.
“Hello.”
Of course every Chinese person knew this simple greeting, even if they have an accent or mispronounce the rough he sound.
“Do you mind if I talk with you?”
You walk into an interview, you need to over exemplify yourself to impress the interviewer. In church you are supposed to dress up for God, but reality it’s just an excuse for your parents to make you wear those dress pants and button down shirt just to wear something nice. Everyone is trying to be something they are not just to impress someone who merely wears the title of authority.
She didn’t have to impress me by over exaggerating herself. I remember her eyes so clearly. In the shadows her eyes retained a level of color, like looking into the bottom of a crystal clear lake. And when the light reflected off her iris at the correct angle, all you saw is the beauty of the most unreachable treasure. That timid accent that said “yes” that sounded rehearsed but connected ideas and sentences that proved her ability to translate her complex Chinese ideas into clear English syntax left me speechless in both Chinese and English.
I could go into depth about how I introduced her to UNO, the length of our conversation on traveling the world and her curiosity with American culture. How we began seems less important than what we have become since then, but it is that beginning that leaves me wondering about the present. It’s like the perfectly clichéd story of how boy meets girl. Perhaps it seems more significant that I missed the July 6th train and met her the following day. Writing about it now aches my heart. Just to see how fate intertwined my destiny with hers, and yet I don’t know how profoundly she’s been affected by our encounter or how much I’ve changed the outcome.
12/4/2010 2:39 AM
To think...after spending about an hour and half writing this...and at this time, I went to check Renren and there she is online, visiting my profile...I’m telling you this girl will be the end of me...
I had this computer related conversation with my niece and she didn’t understand the correlation between RAM and processors. I don’t know anything about which processor is best and what have you, but this was the best analogy I could come up with. I give you “The Tao of the Processor.”
Empty your mind. You better recognize that’s a segue into Bruce Lee. Imagine Bruce Lee is a single processor for a computer. What kind of processor? A fuckin Intel dragon-kicks-your-Centrino-ass processor, how bout that? Anyways…so we have a gigantic computer that’s actually a large dojo, presumably 1600 square feet. So Bruce can do whatever he wants…he can go do some chi sao on the wooden dummy, punch a bag a few times…gets kinda boring with these small processes, huh? It’s like playing fuckin minesweeper where the mines can’t detonate cause your dragon-kicking-ass-processor destroys ‘em. So let’s open up a program, say something basic like Internet Explorer.
Now of course we need RAM to actually get data and actually open such programs. So let’s get some RAM: karate students or what have you. One karate student = 1 megabyte of RAM. Just to make things interesting, we’ll give him 10 MB of RAM. Now this is probably an insufficient analogy, but hold on. Of course Bruce Lee will take out 10 MB of RAM easily. He’s the fastest fuckin processor taking on one process: pwning 10 karate kids. So if we have him doing that for a while, gets kinda boring. Actually, we’ll have to wait a full 10 minutes until more data comes in cause quite frankly, 10 MB of RAM makes everything fairly slow and boring.
So let’s give him one gig of RAM (1,000 karate kids). For all intents and purposes, Bruce Lee is about 1000x faster and more inhuman than ever and kicks all their asses, just as a worthy processor should with 1 gig of RAM. The reason we add RAM is to allow the processor get data and information faster. So Bruce Lee is kicking ass until…we upgrade to 2 GB of RAM! For one lil processor like Bruce Lee, he can’t handle 2,000 opponents. Sorry Bruce, but we need to get a second processor to help you carry out the data. Let’s grab Jackie Chan and he’ll be the second processor. Now we have dual core processors. Jackie Chan can be…Intel-drunken-master-processor. Not as cool as Bruce, I know, but no one tops Bruce. So with these two processors kicking ass, more RAM runs in to take their place until we upgrade to quad-core processors. Now we have Jet Li, the Intel-I’m-Nobody’s-Bitch-Processor and Tony Jaa, the Intel-Ong-Bok-Processor (all my processors were made in Asia, ok?) and we have them taking on 4 gigs of RAM. Can you believe it? 4 guys take on 4,000 students! It’s not a 1:4000 fight let me tell you now. 1:1 is an MMA caged fight, ok? This is a battle of 4 kickass martial artists whose philosophies are so intertwined with their lifestyles that they blow the competition of the fuckin ports that the computer actually loses RAM. Another upgrade? I think so. Who’s gonnaa be the next processor? Well you tell me!
this conversation was based on a discussion between myself and a friend through facebook. ive thought about writing these sort of ideas for a while now but never sat down to think...here is the beginning of these inner monologues:
my friend and i began talking about weddings and she mentioned physical beauty and the fear of what may come when she ages. these were my responses:
if love was based on physical beauty than what really matters...the person's true nature, then love itself wouldn't matter...
cause...of course with age people's physical features change, but their true nature will always remain just as beautiful...i mean if someone truly loves you then physical beauty is no important at all
well nobody is perfect. even the most brilliant people have flaws. people who use their knowledge to help others are more noble than people who glamorize themselves to impress people because when someone helps another, they are helping the world. when people make themselves look good, it's not to help anyone but themselves
they are hiding behind their beauty because aside from that, they can't help anyone who is starving or dying or anything but there are some people who have the looks and can aid the world, but if your knowledge alone can help someone that is more beautiful already
at the end she mentioned that while i use my personal morals to develop these notions, not many people feel this way. which is very true to say the least. everyone is bottled up within their own layers of makeup and muscle that we are not improving ourselves for our own benefit but merely attract others and gain their respect.
Hokay, now let's get down to business. Cyndi's last email left me with some questions of my own and I think I am going to slightly change my capstone...for the last time.
First of all, I have found a book that I have completely fallen in love with: Percy Jackson & The Olympians series by Rick Riordan. In about a month's time, I have nearly finished all 5 books (with a strong callous towards the movie because the movie's storyline has been completely altered). Cyndi has mentioned Rick Riordan being my inspiration, which I haven't considered until now because I've been writing this story before reading his work. Most likely, my target audience will be the same as his: young-adult to children, although I doubt children will understand some of the issues I want to discuss. Now the only reason I say "children" as a target audience is that Percy Jackson is found in the children's section of Borders. Well, Harry Potter dealt a lot with dark issues from betrayal and death to lighter issues of love to coming to age. People have already talked about the environment and war, but who has really challenged poverty, women's rights and all the nitty-gritty nasty issues? Hopefully my story of Iris, a fallen Angel encountering global injustices for the first time, will be able to face these conflicts and open the reader to social injustices that are often overlooked. So my book will be a mixture of entertainment and education. Percy Jackson mostly deals with coming-of-age, friendship, betrayal, death, revenge and ultimately, Greek Mythology, the rise of Kronos and magic.
Now I've been editing my book practically everyday with every minute I have since classes have ended. Since the only books I've been reading are primarily in first person (the Twilight Saga and Percy Jackson series) I feel the urge to change the narrative to first person instead of third person. But I'm pretty much tired of continuously editing the story.
Cyndi asked what form the work is going to take. So right now, it's a novel (unfinished at 63,000 words). What I'm thinking is taking a self-publishing route (like Christopher Paolini's Eragon) or taking on a different publishing route (online) or print.
I have planned on writing a series. First book deals with women's rights, the second book looks at environmentalism and the third book deals with internal conflict/civil war (Israeli/Palestine, China/Tibet, Darfur) . I appreciate Cyndi's suggestion on t he BP oil spill and the Israeli conflift over ships in Gaza. I mean, there are a lot of issues I want to confront not merely because Core requires it, but because there are issues out there that even some movie directors and scriptwriters in the US can't discuss (Pandora). Well I can't attack Pandora as I haven't seen the movie, but look at Prince of Persia. Political struggles over authority. The only movies I have seen that even deal with what I'm writing about are Hotel Rwanda and Osama. Women may have smaller roles in some movies, or are glamored up and be the only women on a ship full of men (Pirates of the Caribbean or Star Wars) but these women are all dazzled up. If true oppression is to be conveyed, Osama is a fantastic example of female oppression. As Cyndi mentioned, I can't solve the world's problem of social injustices in one fell swoop. I don't necessarily want to solve it, but I want to create a character who has grown up in a dystopia-like heaven be introduced to an earth torn by global injustices. He knows God doesn't exist, but it's his duty to provide for humans and challenge society that ultimately redeems him and makes these issues and maybe get people talking. While not an ultimate solution to aiding human rights, I feel it's more reasonable to approach issues people are less familiar with instead of something everyone has tackled.
Anyways, I don't think I can do the animated graphic novel approach I originally wanted simply because of how much effort and time I need to draw and animate the characters. I already have a trailer the I made for my 2D Animation Class, so this may be help me for marketing. Some other books I have in line:
Finish Rick Riodan's The Last Olympian Oliver Bowden's Assassin's Creed Matthew Stover's God of War (read Stover's novelization of Revenge of the Sith which was so much better than the movie) Novelization of the original Star Wars trilogy by various authors. JRR Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings
Except for The Lord of the Rings I do have all these books sitting on my shelf that I've bought in the past year, but I wanted to finish Percy Jackson. I'm carefully choosing the books I'm reading to match either movies or games, but I just feel my writing mimics writing a screenplay with more narrative as if I'm the director.
Ultimately, I want to look into online publishing, self publishing or looking into a publishing house. With online publishing, I could do something like a chapter a week sort of thing, which would allow me to start publishing now. The first part of the book (planning on my book to be divided into 3-parts) has 24 chapters and 57-thousand words. If I did online publishing, I wouldn't have to worry about deadlines or finding an agent/publishing house or expenses. Well, maybe buying a website domain and such, but this would basically be the same as self-publishing, but not in print form. I do save money by not printing on paper, saving trees as well, but is there a possibility that I can get paid through my work? Online printing can also lead to people reading my work for free. How to make this work?
It’s basically the end of May, and I haven’t written an authentic blog entry since…February. In between that time, I’ve put up 7 postings which are basically class assignments…so no real entry has been made.
Anyways...well let’s get down to the nitty gritty story. This story is about a week old, but it’s something worthwhile to write about cause…well I’m four months behind on an entry. Perhaps I can relate this all into some sort of …philosophical love story.
So let’s go back to an old entry…the October 12, 2000 entry entitled What’s Worse than a Cheater (link here: http://freefallinasian.blogspot.com/2009/10/whats-worse-than-cheater.html). Let’s recap a little bit for those not interested in reading the old stuff:
• Boy meets girl • Girl becomes a great friend (being Chinese and all) • Two of them hang out a lot • Boy goes to China for summer>Stays in contact with girl • Girl says she has a boring summer • Girl secretly lies about it all>Actually having fun with Boyfriend • Boy returns from China>Girl neglects/ignores him and all friends • Boy becomes heartbroken from a dead friendship>gives her one final gift • No more contact
Yeah? No happy ending…well not in that Hollywood BS sense. Plus, this is a GREAT summary, seeing as I dislike summaries. I tend to go in depth…which I’m about to do…
So…well since then, some friends told me to forget about her…move on…stop talking about her. Easier said then done cause well…she decided to move into the same dorm as me spring semester and we basically go to the same college. Kinda sucky…chances are we’re bound to meet!
About two weeks ago, I helped my friend move into her new place. Now if you don’t remember, I tend not to divulge on the names….so let’s just call her…uh…D. So D tells me that I should forgive her and make amends…which I, as stubborn as I am (not sure if this has to do with me being stubborn) decline. Still...V tells me she is a good girl and very sad…emotional…and based on the previous history she and I originally had, I do feel something. Sympathy, I guess, but basically it’s something I need to push away. I mean we pushed each other away. She stuck with her boy friend while pushing us all away, and I just simply suppress the feelings of remorse. I mean…as a me I’m always struggling between sympathizing with how people feel. And I think that where may be the possibility that someone I know will be reading this thinking “that’s not true.” That’s another story.
D then tells me that she (the girl) might text/message me one of these days. So that night…I keep looking at my phone cause while I deleted her number, she might still have mine. Nothing. And for a whole week, a whole lotta nothing. One day I decide to check my old gmail account and found an email from her (send May 24th)….which was an incredible two-page e-mail of her wondering what happened to our friendship, and if it would be possible to make amends. While my first initial thought was to just…ignore the message altogether, it was written in Chinese…and it’s two pages long. That’s effort right there.
At the end of reading her e-mail…which was ridden with guilt and possibly one of the most emotional things she has ever written, I almost felt compelled to forgive her. There’s reminiscence on our past. Her inability to speak to me since I deleted her from FaceBook. Social awkwardness at different clubs. Bravery to send such an email. Not wanting me to ever feel this way about her. Her heart unable to guide her feelings. A sort of jealousy that she is absent from the International Club photos.
Let’s reflect on one key phrase: compelled to forgive her. Shouldn’t forgiveness be more sincere than a compulsion? I mean…we’re talking about friendship here…even she mentioned that if we are not friends, then she will understand.
Cruelty would be not replying. So that’s what I did…finally. Coming to a resolution…sort of. Finally letting myself out, I tell her everything how I’ve felt…in half Chinese, half English. From discussing her inability to talk to us (her friends) about when she is with her boyfriend to the time I introduced her to everyone I knew when we first me so she could have friends. When I was in China for summer vacation and her telling me that she was bored with no one to hang out with…when in reality she had her boyfriend. To the regret of me constantly thinking about her at Hua Shan that I actually got her a stupid necklace…that I still gave to her after that day our friendship died.
I remember all those times we spent together: along Lake Champlain, going to downtown, creating her FaceBook account, playing Chinese Chess at Ben and Jerry’s, when she cried in the library, when we watched movies in my dorm…missing the old her and knowing she will never return.
At the end, I told her my email might be confusing and sent her a bunch of songs that may interpret my heart. And while the songs may be about love or some emotional sentimental thing, I never “loved” her. Love itself if a damn strong concept and I’ll probably get into that at a different level…without some sappy example from my life.
With that, she replied back saying that she has some more to say, but doesn’t want to intrude/annoy me. While grateful for the reply, “it was unfortunate we couldn’t see each other in person to talk.” I thought of replying to her…telling her at the very end, at least we have a conclusion. And if there comes a day she wants to tell me, she can.
“终于 我们有个结局. 如果还有一天你想说话, 我听你”
I’m not exactly sure what to do…should I send it or not? Would sending it evoke emotions of confusion that I am willing to forgive her and become friends, or would not sending it completely sever all ties I have?
I’ve watched you sleeping For a while, Memorizing the curve of your crooked Smile. Faded teardrops Grace the corners of your cheeks. Infinitely weary, The shadows pull across your eyes. Between my shallow breaths I cradle Your broken weight.
We ran together. You pushed me forward. Forcing me to accept promises That I couldn’t comprehend: “Do not look back if you no longer hear my voice.” Five steps ahead and fingers intertwined, we ran alongside gunfire.
Neighbors and friends Who once grilled steaks on Saturdays And shared beers on Sundays Now aim AK47s and 9 millimeters At the fathers and sons, mothers and daughters. Their trembling voices deny their Gods. “Hold back your gun, I will convert!”
Words emptied from my mouth, exhaustion filled my throat As I fled from the boys I once played baseball with. Although exhausted by gunfire and consumed from death, I continued leading the path to freedom. Fear trembled against your eyes, Tears traced the contours of your chin. Gunfire so close to my ears silenced my breath. But it was not me Who met the ground. Your silence. A single shot. A broken promise. Turning around, you’re no longer Five steps Behind me. Now in my arms. Your blood follows us. My strength can only go so far. I’ll never forget your broken gaze.
I hold you against my heart. My eyes dare not close, Fearing you will no longer be with me should I wake from sleep. Can you hear my four words? A wound deepens into my heart. Pain more severe than death. I deny the truth I must silently accept. My voice will reach you, but your response will never reassure my quivering voice. “I love you, Mom.”
In the 21st century, we have developed ways to cure diseases, created vaccinations to prevent illnesses and discovered how to clone animals. We have launched missions to the moon, sent spacecrafts to Mars and have satellites orbiting the Earth. Those with this kind of power are still unable to cure hunger, prevent starvation or liberate poverty in parts of the world that have an unstable economy.
There are approximately 2-billion people in the world affected by poverty. Of these 2-billion people, 13-million Bangladeshi live in poverty. Poverty is cause either from poor governance, in which the government abuses its power, does not implement policies or just unequally distribute the wealth amongst the upper class and disregard the poor. Over the past five decades, solutions to end poverty have been discussed amongst professors and scholars. In 1983, Dr. Mohammed Yunus of Bangladesh found a way to alleviate poverty through the practice of micro-finance.
The majority of people living in poverty do not have the resources needed to take out a loan. Typically these resources include collateral and credit history. “Collateral is the key word…a lot of poor people don’t have collateral” (Baker). Collateral ensures that there is a form of repayment if the loan is not possible. The loans are typically given to entrepreneurs who are selling simple products, such as woven bamboo baskets or cow milk in the free market. Without collateral or some form of ensuring they repay their loans, a bank is unlikely to loan money. These people own nothing of monetary value. No Audi to trade in incase a person is unable to pay back a bank loan, or even a simple cell phone when a food loan is late. There is no credit history to ensure whether or not these peoples can steadily repay their debts. Micro-Finance Institutions (MFIs) disregard the concept of collateral, instead offering these people money on the basis of interest. MFIs target the very poor and provide them with financial services: loans, banking and credit without requiring collateral. Usually, money is either donated or given to MFIs through individuals or groups. The MFIs will then redistribute the money amongst entrepreneurs affiliated with their institution.
Dr. Yunus, a professor of economics at the Chittagong University and founder of the Grameen Bank, discovered the seriousness of poverty when he conversed with a woman selling bamboo stools, which sold for two pennies per stool. This is because the woman buys bamboo from a trader who “imposed a condition on her: that she has to sell all the products she makes to him at the price he decides” (Small Fortunes). Dr. Yunus went around his village with in a similar situation; he found forty-two others. Altogether, the villagers needed twenty-seven Taka to break even. Twenty-seven Taka is approximately forty cents. Dr. Yunus generously gave them the money from his own pocket, which initiated the foundation of the Grameen Bank and an answer to poverty.
The primary borrowers of micro-financing are women. “Microcredit has shown its effectiveness in approving the lives of poor women worldwide. Today, they represent 80% of all borrowers” (Small Fortunes). Kathryn Keely, an Opportunity Innovator, said, “It’s a very simple answer: women repay at a much better rate. Grameen, RancoSol --other ones around the world -- started out with men, changed very quickly when they saw that women repaid at a faster rate” (Small Fortunes). Rita Lugogo, CEO of the Yehu, supports her claim: “There’s been a lot of studies done that show that if the woman gets an education, if the woman gets additional income, the whole family benefits. If it’s the man, it’s the man that benefits and maybe there might be some trickle down effect” (Small Fortunes). Reasons for this are that women are not going to let their children starve and they care very much for the family’s well being. Another argument arises when people make the assumption that micro-lending does not reach out to the entire population in poverty because the men are being ignored. Dr. Yunus points out, “It’s not a loan only for her purpose. It’s a loan for any member of the family as a collective.” Maria Otero, President of Accion says, “If you exclude men, you’re imposing on poverty, a set of requirements that are really not there at all.”
Some of the preconceptions of micro-lending are that the loans are quite small. However, the loan amount is in accordance with the exchange rate and the country’s currency. One United States Dollar is roughly 68.02 Bangladesh Taka. Mico-entrepreneurs are not pursuing large businesses like selling cars or manufacturing computers. They are using the material at their disposal to make items to sell in the market: ox milk, bamboo baskets, wigs, shopping bags. The small amount of money that is loaned to these people is enough for them to buy the supplies they need – sewing machine, buckets, bags – to get their business started while having just enough left over to buy food and send their children to school. According to John Thatch, founder of FINCA, “93% of all our borrowers have all their school-age children in school. The priority of the mother is not growing the business, but growing the child’s education. Supporting the child in school becomes her strategy for escaping poverty” (Small Fortunes). But is the loan enough to buy all of this – schooling, supplies, food? Linda Hunt mentions, “Micro-entrepreneurs are proving with innovation and a solid business plan, they can sell just about anything. Even without formal business training, they have shown remarkable skill in adapting to changing market conditions. Over the past 30 years, the poor have demonstrated that, with access to credit, they often have the skills necessary to work their way out of poverty” (Small Fortunes).
Similarly to issue of micro-financing and not having the money to pull out of poverty is the issue of Maternal Morality in India. According to a study done in October of this year by the Human Rights Watch titled No Tally of the Anguish: Accountability in Maternal Health Care in India, India has one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the world. 2005 is the last available data for India’s maternal mortality rate. While the information is 4 years old, the statistics are still overwhelming. India’s Maternal Mortality rates are 16 times higher than Russia, 10 times higher than China and 4 times higher than Brazil. According to the study, 1 in 70 girls will die during pregnancy, childbirth of unsafe abortion. This estimate is compared to the 1 in 1,7300 deaths caused in the developed world.
Because India is heavily influenced by the law of karma, many of the elderly people or neighbors who have been affected by the death of a close one link the death to either fate or destiny. They are unaware that these deaths are preventable if women and girls have access to appropriate healthcare.
If a pregnant woman goes to the local hospital, she will be imposed with a price for operation. Usually, the cost to deliver a baby will be too expensive to pay and she will directed to another hospital. As the pregnant woman is able to find a hospital willing to care for her, the nurses will impose
The Indian government has taken initiative for women’s demands for deliveries in health facilities. They believe that doing so will promote safe deliveries. Public health facilities have been upgraded to improve the standard of healthcare. Through the Health Management Information System, health facilities are required to submit an annual survey to document more health-related information.
Another method of improving women’s healthcare is by ignoring the caste system. By explicitly addressing the problem, they will be able to “…make a difference in the lives of women and girls, regardless of their background, income level, caste, religion, number of children placeof residence, and other arbitrary factors” (7).
Between November 2008 and August 2009, experiments were conducted in Uttar Pradesh. Uttar Pradesh has the highest maternal mortality rate in India. There are four major reasons to the high maternal mortality rates: barriers to emergency care, poor referral practices, gaps in continuity care and improper. In 2005, the Indian government implemented the National Rural Health Mission (NRHM) to improve the public health systems, which did show improvement between 2003 and 2006. While these numbers are relatively success in the more developed regions of India, they are “…small in relation to the scope of the problem, and camouflages disparities” (6). States such as Haryana and Punjab have not been positively affected by the NRHM. Disparities arise from poor income, the caste system and place of residence. The caste system becomes apparent when nurses and doctors of higher class will not attempt to treat the Dalit, or untouchables.
According to the study, there were seven main reasons for the maternal mortality rates:
1.Socio-economic (caste system)
2.Cultural
3.Early marriage
4.Inaccessibility to contraceptives
5.Husbands/mothers-in-law controlling women’s care seeking provider
6.Poor Heath
7.Mother Protection Scheme
The Mother Protection Scheme, also called Janani Suraksha Yojana or JSY, is when the nurses impose upon the pregnant women extra fees to deliver the child. They use the excuse of culture to give money after the birth of a child. No one dares file acomplaint to the superior because they fear that even more complications will arise, such as denying services. Even if the family pays the extra fee, there is no guarantee that the delivery will be a successful. Complications, such as hemorrhages, obstructed labor, hypertensive disorders or seizures could cause death during delivery. “…most health staff in community health centers of Uttar Pradesh said that they conducted only ‘normal deliveries.’ Women with complications were referred to another facility, with little or no referral support” (10). 45% of the health centers do no have the funds for proper health services. 1 in 100 facilities have blood storage facilities, causing nurses and doctors to refer pregnant women 100 km for blood transfusion, even for a caesarean section.
While the government has solutions to solve the problem of maternal mortality, they are constantly challenged. The government wants all healthcares to formally report all pregnancy-related deaths and have a government official investigate these deaths. The Indian government also wants to work with the United Nations to provide better equipment.
By facing the seven primary obstacles, the government will be able to successfully maintain and control the maternal mortality rate. Women are either not independent, unaware of their rights, unable to file a complaint or the health workers simply reject their request.
If micro-financing is able to aid those in poverty back onto their feet, is it possible to implement the same practice to the pregnant? While the price of obstetrical healthcare may be cost significantly more than loans for entrepreneurs to begin a business, the principles are the same. A small loan from one person, plus another small loan and more small loans add up in the long run. With women being able to successfully deliver a child and simple businesses coming out of poverty, isn’t that the most important principle of human rights?
Works Cited
"India: Reveal Truth about Childbirth Deaths | Human Rights Watch." Home | Human
Rights Watch. 4 Nov. 2009. Web. 4 Nov. 2009.
.
"No Tally for the Anguish: Accountability in Maternal Health Care in India." Human
Rights Watch. Oct. 2009. Web. 1 Oct. 2009. .
Small Fortunes: Microcredit and the Future of Poverty. Dir. Matt Whitaker. 2005. DVD.
Zaman, Hussan. "The Scaling-Up of Microfinance in Bangladesh: Determinants, Impact,
and Lessons." The World Bank. The World Bank, Sept. 2004. Web. 1 Oct. 2009.
My senior capstone needs to culminate aspects of my major and what I've learned in COR. Honestly, I'm not even sure if COR is "COR," "Core," or "CORE." For the purpose of this entry...it's going to be "COR."
But I feel that my capstone should not only incorporate ideas of COR and my major, but also from every other class that I have taken. Outside the Professional Writing Major curriculum and COR Classes, I've taken Screenwriting, Interactive Storytelling, Digital Interactive Design and 2-D Motion Graphics. Honestly, I've wanted to work on my story in such an interactive way where I become the director. After taking Screenwriting, I've realized that the writer has very little to do other than write the script. Same as Interactive Storytelling. Both classes revolved around script writing (as in action/dialogue, not computer scripting). Since I can see my story fairly well in my mind, I want to be a pioneer of the visuals in my story.
Although I've been working on my story for some time, I want to change the basic plot of it to something I have been looking at in my COR-330-03 ICS Morocco Class: lack of womens' rights. My story revolves around environmental issues, and while we've touched a bit on that in the same class, it's not as demanding as womens' rights. The difficulty with this is that I have a lot of editing to do (just the first chunk of the book...and the rest) which really takes away from the finalized dialogue of the main character. Mind you the main character ONLY speaks in iambic pentameter (10-syllable sentences) and that's more antagonizing to change than the plot. It does make more sense to try killing the secondary female character when womens' rights are an issue instead of environmental actions. Besides, everything is environmentalism. Al Gore anyone? How about Pandora? When's the last time we actually saw something on Women's Rights? My story already has a HUGE religious premise around it (Secular and Sacred???) which is more about defying the existence of God by one character (who is in fact an Angel) and his ignorance towards why humans believe in a fictionalized character God. At the same time, I guess this could also be related to Scientific Revolution (going from steam power to fossil fuels?). Yeah I've been working on this story for a while...
So my Capstone Idea: Finish and edit the book NOW and get going on animating the first few chapters (Aesthetic Expression?). Even creating a trailer of the book and have it interactive somehow. A small scale multimedia project where I create another blog and Twitter account to keep a log of what's going on and how I'm progressing. With this, ANYONE can participate with the progress of my capstone (Concepts of Community anyone?).
I know that the idea Playgrounds for the World would be the most ideal and inclusive way to incorporate COR, but that idea would be better off with someone in the International Business department. Which would be cool if I could work with someone in the IB department who doesn't have a capstone idea: give him/her this idea and work with the individual to get it going in China.
So hypnotism is one of those New Age things...I guess. I don't even know. Controlling peoples' minds with psychological persuasion...cool? It's one of this creepy things where if you commit too much to it, you're basically a witch-like person who worships the devil. I don't even know if that's true...but here it goes...
Two days ago, Champlain hosted this Hypnotism thing on campus by...I forgot the dude's name...one sec...Steve Taubman. And this guy is pretty legit...he came last year. I went last time, did some ridiculous things (take off my shirt? give a dude a lap dance?) all under my control. I just listened to the guy, became a team player and it was all good. So being the kinda nuts guy I am...I decided to go up again and surprisingly, he allowed me to stay. But this time...when he did the whole bit "you're at the beach. it's hot guys. 90 degrees...you need to take off those shirts!" I thought otherwise...
BY THE WAY! I have come to the realization I did not begin the previous paragraph with "anyways..."
Anyways...to make up for the absence of the first...I'm not doing my Flash homework. Which is due...by the end of the semester? Whatever...
So then he stretched out my nose to which I make the facial gesture to make the audience go "rofl" and say "I'm a Chinese Pinocchio!" The audience went straight into holy fuck that's funny. Which I always pull out the Chinese thing in whatever public appearance I'm doing...which...btw...Chinese people's noses don't stretch. They aren't made for stretching. (I thought of that just now as I was about to post this blog entry to my facebook @ 9:52 pm. real time remember).
That's the setup. I was under my own control...so cool it. I was not hypnotized. I knew I was in control when feeling up that girl's leg during that romantic movie moment when all I could see were the laughing faces and the slightly audible "GO TOMMY!" After wards, I told all my skeptical friends I improvised the whole thing. They agreed with "You were overacting, Tommy."
Yesterday I was heading to Fireside Lounge and saw this professor. Trying to avoid him (not walk into him) I steered left...he followed and went, "Hi, I saw you at the hypnosis show last night! Tell me, do you remember your name?" What kinda dumb question is that? But then i remembered that was supposed to forget my name during the hypnosis. "Oh yeah, last night! I forgot my Chinese name as well!" wtf? Come on Tommy...
"You were really under hypnosis? What was it like?"
"Well..." I had two options:
The TRUTH: I faked it like a hot babe getting bored after the first 5 minutes of sex, or the LIE: I was under the influence of hypnosis.
"Yeah! It was so weird! When he told me to do things, I felt the compulsion to do those stupid things! Like giving him my wallet! It was so awkward!"
"Really? Hypnotism fascinates me..." he replied and then I proceeded to lose 15 minutes of my life...based on a little lie...which in turn became a bigger lie...
Look, when under hypnosis, I think you're supposed to be more calm and subtle about the things you do. Thursday night when we did the phone/shoe thing, i ran up, grabbed someone's foot, screamed into his shoe (while noticing a specific someone sitting next to him) and go "MR. PRESIDENT!" on my left is the cameraman...."OH SHIT! SOMEONE IS FILMING ME!! G2G!" and crawl down the stairs...on my stomach...no guy under hypnosis would do that! I would do it if you asked me to in real life! I'm practically the most insane guy out there! When you are part of the improv troupe, you learn to always say yes and never say no. Always agree cause...well yeah...1 sec I need to get my laundry...
My laundry is still damp. What's the point of the one hour cycle through the dryer if it's gonna come out damp?
Anyways...as I was going to get my laundry, I realized that this entry is pretty much in real time. Almost like a YouTube video except...this one is in writing...and you can't see me! haha you don't know what I look like. For all you know I'm not even Chinese...or Asian! haha I'm fucking with you.
And just because the title is close to 9 months does not mean I found out I'm the father of someone's baby. Last I checked I haven't slept with anyone in the past 9 months. Forget everything I've written before about that girl and the time capsule idea. Sure, I wrote that poem about her and that story was also about her, but in the end those are fictional. Even that girl who betrayed my friendship no longer matters.
Today...I got in touch with an old friend from China. I always considered it fate that I met her. Back in the summer of 09, I went to China and climbed Mt. Huashan, or 华山, for the Chinese literate. And...that mountain is a hell of a climb. Eight hours up and eight hours down just to see the sunrise or sunset, depending on when you begin climbing. So I went up the mountain on July 3rd and saw the cross into China on the 4th. Good stuff...good stuff...just some background information. Climb down the mountain with no sleep and barely any rest, a few thousand stars and about 4 kilometers, my thighs and calves killed.
I'm not getting into details about that climb...just that I nearly died of exhaustion. My bro, his friend and I got to the bottom of the mountain around noon...having started at 6. Climbing down is faster...
So we are supposed to leave for the train to Guangzhou on the 7th, but we missed the train cause we slept in. We manage to get train tickets for the 8th, and we rush to train station. Fortunately, we make it on the train. Now...this is the tricky part...
This is where I saw her. The first time I ever saw her. She was climbing down a ladder to the top bunk, dressed simply yet her clothes didn't hide her beauty. A plaid shirt, tied at the bottom with a black undershirt and simple white pants. I remember comparing her shirt to a picnic blanket, and she was wrapped neatly in a picnic blanket that it suits her. She was just so perfect...a rounded heart shaped face and hair falling evenly on both shoulders. I'm a shy guy...so it was natural for me to not engage her. At the same time...my Mandarin sucks. So communication wasn't gonna get very far.
Throughout most of the ride, I sat reading books and she sat next to me. She would often look at my party when we spoke English with our American friend. Finally...she began speaking to us...in English. What stunned me was not that she was fluent in English, but she didn't have an accent. "Yes." "Of course." I loved the way she said those words. And the further we talked...the more intrigued I was with her. But I still couldn't bring myself out of this shy-guy zone...then we began playing her first game of UNO. She had a friend with her as well...and she played UNO with us. And all this while...I couldn't stop staring at her eyes. They were like marbles, the ones you "play for keeps." They weren't dark brown like Chinese eyes, nor were they bright like European eyes. Instead, her eyes would shift colors depending on the light. Sometimes hazel, other times green. Other times silver. Her eyes were glazed by the sunlight...just so magnificent.
Anyways...we exchanged QQ numbers and I fell in love with this girl. I don't even know how...we just spoke at 10 am (EST) and I shared little things with her. Somehow, I tried to bring us closer. Tried to be more open with her. Be that strong American guy...making that 13 hour difference and 12,500 miles seem like centimeters and seconds away by computer. 88...99...11...889911...
维C宝宝11:12:44 AM will change your face ? or hold a mask? Tommy 仔11:12:54 AM only wear a mask 维C宝宝11:13:26 AM what does it look like? which color Tommy 仔11:13:36 AM that's a secret! if i tell you, you might tell other people! 维C宝宝11:14:11 AM no ,i wouldn`t! Tommy 仔11:14:39 AM haha Tommy 仔11:14:45 AM you really wanna know what it is? 维C宝宝11:15:02 AM you tell me ,so i will not beat you when i see "the mask hero" Tommy 仔11:15:30 AM 这是一个 "不能说的秘密" ("This is a secret that cannot be told" reference to Jay Chou's Secret) 维C宝宝11:16:22 AM 是一个 你不知道的秘密 (This is a secret even you don't know) That always makes me smile..."是一个你不知道的秘密..." she's the first person I told her eyes were so beautiful...and I don't know how or why I fall for girls. Friends ask me...and I describe the relationship I have with them. Is that not enough to define why we like people, or is there an underlying secret I don't know yet? Yet I've never managed to tell her how I feel because...even though we are only a computer screen and keyboard strokes away (also webcam and mic), we will always be 13 hours apart. I'm remembering now how I played the piano for her...in real time on webcam. The look on her face when I began was simply...unbelievable. I didn't want to play the piano...I just wanted to see her fragile smile, her glasses...just to see her animated expression...
Friends tell me to go for it...but I don't want to lose what I have. Then we say "take the risk. do something." What if I mess up? What happens to the 7-months I've known her? Where does the18-hours I spent with her on the train go? In the end, I'm still extremely Americanized and I try not to influence her. Cause honestly...I don't like the Americanized me. Most times...it bugs me...
So today...after I talked to her on QQ...typed, rather...I signed off. A few short moments after, she posted something 人人网 (the Chinese equivalent to Facebook) that she has liked someone for so long, yet does not have the courage to tell this person. Someone on 人人...and she wants her friends to help her. Maybe she's assuming that I can't read Chinese well...cause...well she knows I don't know Mandarin, but we do occasionally communicate in Chinese (written). With my broken pinyin and horrible way of translating things, we manage. She even posted a link to the person she likes...and being curious I clicked. It went to my profile...and I thought I did something wrong. I clicked again...back to my profile.
I don't understand why she would like me...out of all people...and that's what I usually ask is "why me?" I really don't consider myself anything special...I play pool, I write novels...occasionally photoshop, illustrator and flash...and learning to cook. But aside from that...I don't know what I do.
She wanted to come to America...for an internship...we worked together as far as we could to make her resume, her interview go smoothly. But she didn't get accepted...now she says she has liked this person for a long time. People say go for it...and I would...with her I could...but doubt overwhelms any other thought...
I honestly feel that fate allowed me to meet her. Had I gotten on that train July 7th, I would have missed her by a day. We slept three beds away from each other. It's the most...provocative idea...it's weird...now I'm rambling...
