Thursday, October 02, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
New Blog
Hi everyone, I am starting a new blog. The content will be a mixture of my own dabblings as well as interesting pieces that I think will be valuable for people to read. Feel free to check it out: http://communicacion-oral.blogspot.com. Thanks!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Need a Job? $17,000 an Hour. No Success Required.
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
Published: September 17, 2008
Are you capable of taking a perfectly good 158-year-old company and turning it into dust? If so, then you may not be earning up to your full potential.
You should be raking it in like Richard Fuld, the longtime chief of Lehman Brothers. He took home nearly half-a-billion dollars in total compensation between 1993 and 2007.
Last year, Mr. Fuld earned about $45 million, according to the calculations of Equilar, an executive pay research company. That amounts to roughly $17,000 an hour to obliterate a firm. If you’re willing to drive a company into the ground for less, apply by calling Lehman Brothers at (212) 526-7000.
Oh, nevermind.
I’m delighted to announce that Mr. Fuld (who continues to lead Lehman since it entered bankruptcy proceedings this week) is the winner of my annual Michael Eisner Award for corporate rapacity and poor corporate governance. The award honors the pioneering achievements in this field of Mr. Eisner, the former Walt Disney chief.
This isn’t a plaque that will simply gather dust in a closet. It’s a shower curtain to commemorate the $6,000 one that the former C.E.O. of Tyco purchased and billed to his shareholders.
So, Mr. Fuld, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve picked out a lovely green vinyl number for you. Only $14.99! Why, I saved you $5,985!
Perhaps it seems frivolous to be handing out shower curtains to chief executives when we’re caught in a deepening economic crisis. Well, it is.
But one of our broad national problems is rising inequality, and it is exacerbated by corporate executives helping themselves to shareholders’ cash. Three decades ago, C.E.O.’s typically earned 30 to 40 times the income of ordinary workers. Last year, C.E.O.’s of large public companies averaged 344 times the average pay of workers.
John McCain seems to think that the problem is that C.E.O.’s are greedy. Well, of course, they are. We’re all greedy. The real failure is one of corporate governance, which provides only the flimsiest oversight to curb the greed of executives like Mr. Fuld.
“Compare the massive destruction of wealth for shareholders to what he gets at the end of the day,” said Lucian Bebchuk, the director of the corporate governance program at Harvard Law School. A central flaw of governance is that boards of directors frequently are ornamental and provide negligible oversight.
As Warren Buffett has said, “in judging whether corporate America is serious about reforming itself, C.E.O. pay remains the acid test.” It’s a test that corporate America is failing.
These Brobdingnagian paychecks are partly the result of taxpayer subsidies. A study released a few weeks ago by the Institute for Policy Studies in Washington found five major elements in the tax code that encourage overpaying executives. These cost taxpayers more than $20 billion a year.
That’s enough money to deworm every child in the world, cut maternal mortality around the globe by two-thirds and also provide iodized salt to prevent tens of millions of children from suffering mild retardation or worse. Alternatively, it could pay for health care for most uninsured children in America.
Do we truly believe that C.E.O.’s like Mr. Fuld are more deserving of tax dollars than sick children?
Perhaps it’s understandable that C.E.O.’s are paid heroically when they succeed, but why pay prodigious sums when they fail? E. Stanley O’Neal, the former chief of Merrill Lynch, retired last year after driving the firm over a cliff, and he walked away with $161 million.
The problem isn’t precisely paychecks that are huge. Baseball stars, investment bankers and hedge fund managers all earn obscene sums, but honestly — through arm’s-length transactions. You and I may gasp, but that’s the free market at work.
In contrast, boards pay C.E.O.’s after negotiations that are often more like pillow talk. Relationships are incestuous, and compensation consultants provide only a thin veer of respectability by finding some “peer group” of companies so moribund that anybody shines in comparison. The result is what critics call the Lake Wobegon effect, which miraculously leaves all C.E.O.’s above average. Indeed, one study of 1,500 companies found that two-thirds claimed to be outperforming their peer groups.
John Kenneth Galbraith, the great economist, once explained: “The salary of the chief executive of a large corporation is not a market award for achievement. It is frequently in the nature of a warm personal gesture by the individual to himself.”
There are widely discussed technical solutions to C.E.O.’s overpaying themselves that we should move toward. We can also learn from Britain and Australia, which offer shareholders more rights than in America, redrawing the balance between shareholders and management and curbing pay in the process.
As for Mr. Fuld, unfortunately, he had no comment for this column. At $17,000 an hour, it probably wasn’t worth his time.
I invite you to visit my blog, www.nytimes.com/ontheground, and join me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/kristof.
Published: September 17, 2008
Are you capable of taking a perfectly good 158-year-old company and turning it into dust? If so, then you may not be earning up to your full potential.
You should be raking it in like Richard Fuld, the longtime chief of Lehman Brothers. He took home nearly half-a-billion dollars in total compensation between 1993 and 2007.
Last year, Mr. Fuld earned about $45 million, according to the calculations of Equilar, an executive pay research company. That amounts to roughly $17,000 an hour to obliterate a firm. If you’re willing to drive a company into the ground for less, apply by calling Lehman Brothers at (212) 526-7000.
Oh, nevermind.
I’m delighted to announce that Mr. Fuld (who continues to lead Lehman since it entered bankruptcy proceedings this week) is the winner of my annual Michael Eisner Award for corporate rapacity and poor corporate governance. The award honors the pioneering achievements in this field of Mr. Eisner, the former Walt Disney chief.
This isn’t a plaque that will simply gather dust in a closet. It’s a shower curtain to commemorate the $6,000 one that the former C.E.O. of Tyco purchased and billed to his shareholders.
So, Mr. Fuld, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve picked out a lovely green vinyl number for you. Only $14.99! Why, I saved you $5,985!
Perhaps it seems frivolous to be handing out shower curtains to chief executives when we’re caught in a deepening economic crisis. Well, it is.
But one of our broad national problems is rising inequality, and it is exacerbated by corporate executives helping themselves to shareholders’ cash. Three decades ago, C.E.O.’s typically earned 30 to 40 times the income of ordinary workers. Last year, C.E.O.’s of large public companies averaged 344 times the average pay of workers.
John McCain seems to think that the problem is that C.E.O.’s are greedy. Well, of course, they are. We’re all greedy. The real failure is one of corporate governance, which provides only the flimsiest oversight to curb the greed of executives like Mr. Fuld.
“Compare the massive destruction of wealth for shareholders to what he gets at the end of the day,” said Lucian Bebchuk, the director of the corporate governance program at Harvard Law School. A central flaw of governance is that boards of directors frequently are ornamental and provide negligible oversight.
As Warren Buffett has said, “in judging whether corporate America is serious about reforming itself, C.E.O. pay remains the acid test.” It’s a test that corporate America is failing.
These Brobdingnagian paychecks are partly the result of taxpayer subsidies. A study released a few weeks ago by the Institute for Policy Studies in Washington found five major elements in the tax code that encourage overpaying executives. These cost taxpayers more than $20 billion a year.
That’s enough money to deworm every child in the world, cut maternal mortality around the globe by two-thirds and also provide iodized salt to prevent tens of millions of children from suffering mild retardation or worse. Alternatively, it could pay for health care for most uninsured children in America.
Do we truly believe that C.E.O.’s like Mr. Fuld are more deserving of tax dollars than sick children?
Perhaps it’s understandable that C.E.O.’s are paid heroically when they succeed, but why pay prodigious sums when they fail? E. Stanley O’Neal, the former chief of Merrill Lynch, retired last year after driving the firm over a cliff, and he walked away with $161 million.
The problem isn’t precisely paychecks that are huge. Baseball stars, investment bankers and hedge fund managers all earn obscene sums, but honestly — through arm’s-length transactions. You and I may gasp, but that’s the free market at work.
In contrast, boards pay C.E.O.’s after negotiations that are often more like pillow talk. Relationships are incestuous, and compensation consultants provide only a thin veer of respectability by finding some “peer group” of companies so moribund that anybody shines in comparison. The result is what critics call the Lake Wobegon effect, which miraculously leaves all C.E.O.’s above average. Indeed, one study of 1,500 companies found that two-thirds claimed to be outperforming their peer groups.
John Kenneth Galbraith, the great economist, once explained: “The salary of the chief executive of a large corporation is not a market award for achievement. It is frequently in the nature of a warm personal gesture by the individual to himself.”
There are widely discussed technical solutions to C.E.O.’s overpaying themselves that we should move toward. We can also learn from Britain and Australia, which offer shareholders more rights than in America, redrawing the balance between shareholders and management and curbing pay in the process.
As for Mr. Fuld, unfortunately, he had no comment for this column. At $17,000 an hour, it probably wasn’t worth his time.
I invite you to visit my blog, www.nytimes.com/ontheground, and join me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/kristof.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
It's English Time
Our tribute to the Flight of the Conchords' "Business Time," though instead of being all about makin' love, our version is all about the hilarity that is teaching English in Japan. Enjoy!
Lyrics by my friend Ed and me, with a miniscule amount of help from Melissa
--------------------------------------
uhh....Oh yeah.
Kids, today we're gonna speak English. You know how I know? Because it's third period and third period is the time that we usually speak English.
First period is the time that you put your head down on the desk and sleep all the way through your math class,
but third period is the time that we're speakin' English.
When everything is just right, you're not too tired from your mandatory, 3-hour long after-school club activity,
there's no school-wide earthquake safety survival drill, mmm, conditions are perfect for speakin' English.
You turn to me and say somethin' but I don't understand, like "What do you like sports?" I know what you're tryin' to say, you're tryin' to say, oooh yeah, it's English time, it's English time.
Chorus -
It's English, it's English time,
I don't know what you're tryin' to say, but you're tryin' hard to say it, so it's English time, ooooh!
It's English, it's English time,
Oh ohhhhhhh, yeah yeahhhh
Next thing you know we're in the classroom, reviewin' the vocabulary, that's all part of it, that's preparation. Preparation is very important. In English speakin'.
Then you get out your gigantic oversize mirror and pluck your eyebrows. That's not part of the preparation, but it's still very important.
Next thing you know the bell's rung. You're still wearin' your pants around your knees as though you're a gangster but you're really from a small rural mountain town with only 1 traffic light. Ooooh, small rural mountain town in the mountains! (oooh 1 traffic light is all you need)
I take out my flashcards, but then drop them all over the floor 'cuz I laminated them and they're all slippery, but it's okay because I make it into a funny gaijin joke.
Next we turn to page 273 in the school-approved textbook, the lesson heading is "Which subway line do I take?"
How should I know, I always drive.
It's English, it's English time.
I know that the textbook sucks but you all gotta read it so it's your bad luck, ooooh!
It's English, it's English time.
Oh ohhhhhhh, yeah yeahhhh
Speakin' English.
Speaking English for.
Speaking English for two.
Speaking English for two seconds.
When it's with a native speaker, you only need 2 seconds cuz we're so intimidating. 2 seconds of English is better than no seconds of English....mmmmm
You turn to me and say somethin' in Japanese, like "Wakaran." I know what you're tryin' to say, you're tryin' to say "ooohhh yeah, I love English".
Then you tell me that you want some more. Well, er, I'm not surprised, but I have already taught 2 classes today.
It's English time, it's English time.
Second hand ticks over and I'm outta here, baaaaby!"
It's English, it's English time.
Lyrics by my friend Ed and me, with a miniscule amount of help from Melissa
--------------------------------------
uhh....Oh yeah.
Kids, today we're gonna speak English. You know how I know? Because it's third period and third period is the time that we usually speak English.
First period is the time that you put your head down on the desk and sleep all the way through your math class,
but third period is the time that we're speakin' English.
When everything is just right, you're not too tired from your mandatory, 3-hour long after-school club activity,
there's no school-wide earthquake safety survival drill, mmm, conditions are perfect for speakin' English.
You turn to me and say somethin' but I don't understand, like "What do you like sports?" I know what you're tryin' to say, you're tryin' to say, oooh yeah, it's English time, it's English time.
Chorus -
It's English, it's English time,
I don't know what you're tryin' to say, but you're tryin' hard to say it, so it's English time, ooooh!
It's English, it's English time,
Oh ohhhhhhh, yeah yeahhhh
Next thing you know we're in the classroom, reviewin' the vocabulary, that's all part of it, that's preparation. Preparation is very important. In English speakin'.
Then you get out your gigantic oversize mirror and pluck your eyebrows. That's not part of the preparation, but it's still very important.
Next thing you know the bell's rung. You're still wearin' your pants around your knees as though you're a gangster but you're really from a small rural mountain town with only 1 traffic light. Ooooh, small rural mountain town in the mountains! (oooh 1 traffic light is all you need)
I take out my flashcards, but then drop them all over the floor 'cuz I laminated them and they're all slippery, but it's okay because I make it into a funny gaijin joke.
Next we turn to page 273 in the school-approved textbook, the lesson heading is "Which subway line do I take?"
How should I know, I always drive.
It's English, it's English time.
I know that the textbook sucks but you all gotta read it so it's your bad luck, ooooh!
It's English, it's English time.
Oh ohhhhhhh, yeah yeahhhh
Speakin' English.
Speaking English for.
Speaking English for two.
Speaking English for two seconds.
When it's with a native speaker, you only need 2 seconds cuz we're so intimidating. 2 seconds of English is better than no seconds of English....mmmmm
You turn to me and say somethin' in Japanese, like "Wakaran." I know what you're tryin' to say, you're tryin' to say "ooohhh yeah, I love English".
Then you tell me that you want some more. Well, er, I'm not surprised, but I have already taught 2 classes today.
It's English time, it's English time.
Second hand ticks over and I'm outta here, baaaaby!"
It's English, it's English time.
Friday, August 01, 2008
A Farm Boy Reflects
YAMHILL, Ore.
In a world in which animal rights are gaining ground, barbecue season should make me feel guilty. My hunch is that in a century or two, our descendants will look back on our factory farms with uncomprehending revulsion. But in the meantime, I love a good burger.
This comes up because the most important election this November that you’ve never heard of is a referendum on animal rights in California, the vanguard state for social movements. Proposition 2 would ban factory farms from raising chickens, calves or hogs in small pens or cages.
Livestock rights are already enshrined in the law in Florida, Arizona, Colorado and here in Oregon, but California’s referendum would go further and would be a major gain for the animal rights movement. And it’s part of a broader trend. Burger King announced last year that it would give preference to suppliers that treat animals better, and when a hamburger empire expostulates tenderly about the living conditions of cattle, you know public attitudes are changing.
Harvard Law School now offers a course on animal rights. Spain’s Parliament has taken a first step in granting rights to apes, and Austrian activists are campaigning to have a chimpanzee declared a person. Among philosophers, a sophisticated literature of animals rights has emerged.
I’m a farm boy who grew up here in the hills outside Yamhill, Ore., raising sheep for my F.F.A. and 4-H projects. At various times, my family also raised modest numbers of pigs, cattle, goats, chickens and geese, although they were never tightly confined.
Our cattle, sheep, chickens and goats certainly had individual personalities, but not such interesting ones that it bothered me that they might end up in a stew. Pigs were more troubling because of their unforgettable characters and obvious intelligence. To this day, when tucking into a pork chop, I always feel as if it is my intellectual equal.
Then there were the geese, the most admirable creatures I’ve ever met. We raised Chinese white geese, a common breed, and they have distinctive personalities. They mate for life and adhere to family values that would shame most of those who dine on them.
While one of our geese was sitting on her eggs, her gander would go out foraging for food — and if he found some delicacy, he would rush back to give it to his mate. Sometimes I would offer males a dish of corn to fatten them up — but it was impossible, for they would take it all home to their true loves.
Once a month or so, we would slaughter the geese. When I was 10 years old, my job was to lock the geese in the barn and then rush and grab one. Then I would take it out and hold it by its wings on the chopping block while my Dad or someone else swung the ax.
The 150 geese knew that something dreadful was happening and would cower in a far corner of the barn, and run away in terror as I approached. Then I would grab one and carry it away as it screeched and struggled in my arms.
Very often, one goose would bravely step away from the panicked flock and walk tremulously toward me. It would be the mate of the one I had caught, male or female, and it would step right up to me, protesting pitifully. It would be frightened out of its wits, but still determined to stand with and comfort its lover.
We eventually grew so impressed with our geese — they had virtually become family friends — that we gave the remaining ones to a local park. (Unfortunately, some entrepreneurial thief took advantage of their friendliness by kidnapping them all — just before the next Thanksgiving.)
So, yes, I eat meat (even, hesitantly, goose). But I draw the line at animals being raised in cruel conditions. The law punishes teenage boys who tie up and abuse a stray cat. So why allow industrialists to run factory farms that keep pigs almost all their lives in tiny pens that are barely bigger than they are?
Defining what is cruel is, of course, extraordinarily difficult. But penning pigs or veal calves so tightly that they cannot turn around seems to cross that line.
More broadly, the tide of history is moving toward the protection of animal rights, and the brutal conditions in which they are sometimes now raised will eventually be banned. Someday, vegetarianism may even be the norm.
Perhaps it seems like soggy sentimentality as well as hypocrisy to stand up for animal rights, particularly when I enjoy dining on these same animals. But my view was shaped by those days in the barn as a kid, scrambling after geese I gradually came to admire.
So I’ll enjoy the barbecues this summer, but I’ll also know that every hamburger patty has a back story, and that every tin of goose liver pâté could tell its own rich tale of love and loyalty.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Nicholas Kristof Column
I really admire this guy's work.
The Pain of the G-8’s Big Shrug
The Pain of the G-8’s Big Shrug
As President Bush and the Group of 8 leaders who are meeting in Japan again shun their responsibilities in Darfur, there is a serious argument to be made that genocide is overrated as an international concern. The G-8 leaders implicitly accept that argument, which goes like this:
Genocide is regrettable, but don’t lose perspective. It is simply one of many tragedies in the world today — and a fairly modest one in terms of lives lost.
All the genocides of the last 100 years have cost only 10 million to 12 million lives. In contrast, every year we lose almost 10 million children under the age of 5 from diseases and malnutrition attributable to poverty. Make that the priority, not Darfur.
Civil conflict in Congo has claimed more than 5.4 million lives over the last decade, according to careful mortality surveys by the International Rescue Committee. That’s at least 10 times the toll in Darfur, but because Congo doesn’t count as genocide — just as murderous chaos — no one has paid much attention to it.
Does a mother whose child dies from banditry, malaria or AIDS grieve any less than a mother whose child was killed by the janjaweed?
The world has been trying to pressure Sudan to stop slaughtering Darfuris for nearly five years, yet the situation in some ways is worse than ever. In contrast, we know how to combat malaria, child mortality and maternal mortality. The same resources would save far more lives if they were used for vaccinations and bed nets.
So instead of pushing President Bush to worry about Darfur, where it’s not clear he can make a difference, get him to focus on bed nets or deworming or iodizing salt in poor countries or stopping mother-to-child transmission of the virus that causes AIDS or so many other areas where his attention could have a humanitarian impact.
Genocide is horrific, but that doesn’t make it a priority.
This is a coherent and legitimate argument, and there are moments when I catch myself sympathetic to it.
Yet in truth, genocide has always evoked a transcendent horror, and it has little to do with the numbers of victims. The Holocaust resonates not because six million Jews were killed but because a government picked people on the basis of their religious heritage and tried to exterminate them. What is horrifying about Anne Frank’s diary is not so much the death of a girl as the crime of a state.
There are also practical arguments, for genocide can create cycles of revenge and displacement that make it far more destabilizing than any famine or epidemic. The Darfur genocide may well lead all Sudan to fragment into civil war, interrupting Sudanese oil exports and raising oil prices.
The Armenian genocide still festers after nearly a century; and former President Bill Clinton has said that his greatest foreign-policy mistake was his failure to respond in Rwanda. In the same way, the G-8’s collective shrug today about the Darfur genocide — because the victims are black, impoverished and hidden from television cameras — will be a lingering stain.
After five years of genocide, President Bush still hasn’t taken as simple a step as imposing a no-fly zone or even giving a prime-time speech about it. He gave Beijing a gift, his pledge to attend the opening ceremony of the Olympics, without pushing hard for China to suspend military spare-parts and arms deliveries to Sudan.
The Islamic world has been even more myopic, particularly since the victims in Darfur are all Muslim. Do dead Muslims count only when Israel is the culprit? Can’t the Islamic world muster one-hundredth as much indignation for the genocidal slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Muslims as it can for a few Danish cartoons?
This coming Monday, the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court is expected to seek an arrest warrant in connection with Darfur, and his past statements suggest that it may be for the Sudanese president, Omar Hassan al-Bashir, for genocide. That would be a historic step requiring follow-through.
A personal note: I have seen children dying of AIDS and hunger; I have had malaria and been chased through the jungle by militias. I want the G-8 to address all the aspects of global poverty, yet nothing affects me as much as what I have seen in Darfur.
I tilt obsessively at the windmills of Darfur because, quite simply, its people haunt me: the young woman who deliberately made a diversion of herself so the janjaweed would gang-rape her and miss her little sister running in the opposite direction; the man whose eyes were gouged out with a bayonet; the group of women beaten with their own babies until the children were dead.
Yes, genocide truly is “that bad.”
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
New Photos!
Hi everyone,
Long time, no see, I know. I have been working on my Flickr page a bit, and I have added many photos from India, as well as from my good friend Joel's wedding that I just attended back home. Enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/14302243@N00/sets/
Long time, no see, I know. I have been working on my Flickr page a bit, and I have added many photos from India, as well as from my good friend Joel's wedding that I just attended back home. Enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/14302243@N00/sets/
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sumo Tournament!
Last month I went all the way to Osaka for the famous Osaka Spring Sumo Tournament, which was one hell of a good time. I am going to do a more thorough sumo post soon, but for now, you can click on the link below the slideshow to take you to the actual gallery. I included comments and background about sumo, so it should be interesting for you to read and see the awesomeness that is sumo wrestling. I highly recommend watching it if you ever get a chance. Enjoy!
Osaka Spring Sumo Tournament
Osaka Spring Sumo Tournament
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Please help out Kothasatram/Indiranagar Village!
How cute are they?I've done a lot of great travel, but somewhere along the way in my trip to Vietnam last year I decided that on my next trip around one of Asia's poorer countries, I wanted to not only see the country, but help some people along the way.
Luckily, many of my industrius fellow Gifu JET's were way ahead of me. This is their creation.
As you probably don't know, I'm going to be participating in a pretty incredible volunteer project in India this Spring, through a non-profit organization called Longitude, from April 28th to May 6th.
I'm asking all of you for a small bit of your help in sponsoring some pretty incredible life-changing improvements for the people of a small village in southeast India.
I'll tell you about the village:
The Village
The horrible 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami, which devastated so many families and communities throughout Southeast Asia, wrought exceptional disaster on the coastal village of Kothasatram/Indiranagar in Andhra Pradesh, India. The lovely people of this village also happen to belong to the lowest levels of the Hindu Caste system, and are referred to as the Dalit (formerly "Untouchables"). Of course, we've all read about Untouchables in school, but the system that keeps them down is still very much in place. The Dalits are systematically and relentlessly denied their rights, resources and support despite the fact that caste-based discrimination has been constitutionally outlawed for years. When the tsunami literally washed away this village of earthen huts, these people, who had nothing, lost everything. Then everything they were promised and deserved to receive, like food, water, or compassion, was denied them by local bureaucrats, who kept it for themselves because they considered the Untouchables sub-human, not worthy of any attention or empathy, let alone rice, bottled water or emergency shelter.
Now I'll tell you about the project which I've joined.
Project
In cooperation with a long running, pro-Dalit rights non-profit organization in India, the Association of Relief Volunteers (ARV), Longitude established the Building Communities project just after the Tsunami as a means of bringing emergency relief and sustained support to the struggling village. In 2006, a crew of international volunteers broke ground on the construction of 45 family homes. Several groups have since returned to continue the construction. My group will be finishing the walls and roofs of as many houses as possible during our stay in April and May.
All donations to Building Communities will purchase building materials to complete 49 homes for about 250 people in Kothasatram / Indiranagar. The villagers live(d) in earthen huts with palm leaf roofs. When the tsunami struck, it literally washed their homes away. They rebuilt their homes as before, but many are still cramped with 4-6 people sleeping directly on dirt floors. Although the tsunami has passed, the villagers have expressed their need for strong, sturdy homes that will withstand the seasonal threats of cyclones, rain, flooding and the general ravages of nature.
Many of my friends here in Japan and my girlfriend have gone to Kothasatram/Indiranagar Village, and for each one of them it has been a life-changing experience. The gratitude, hospitality, and beauty that these folks have shown my friends was exceptional, and I would like to think it's a worthwhile cause to make their lives a little better. I hope you can help me.
How You Can Help
My crew has set a Fundraising goal of US$14,220 to purchase the necessary construction materials for our work camp, where we'll hopefully complete 80% of the houses in the village. To help us raise Funds and get these houses built please consider making a secure online donation via credit card at http://www.golongitude.org/www
Ultimately, the more we can raise, the more families we can place in permanent homes.
If you want to make a donation using a check or from a non-US location, or if you're interested in joining a future Volunteer expedition, feel free to contact Rick Mickelson, Longitude's Director of International Volunteering, for more details. His email is volunteer@golongitude.org.
Thanks!
I really appreciate your support and sponsorship of my volunteer project. You would be amazed how far your money will go in India, and how much good it can really do. It's remarkable. Your contribution will go a long way in providing the means and resources to build these communities, both the physical structures and the support and compassion necessary for them to thrive.
Thanks a lot, or in the Telugu language of the villagers you are helping,
WANDANAMURU!
Take care,
Jay
http://www.golongitude.org/www
Some photos from previous trips to Kothasatram/Indiranagar village:
Kids getting healthy meals:
Hong called him "Naked boy"
Friday, February 29, 2008
Skiing with the masters
Our group for skiing. A good bunch of people.
This month I again went with my colleague and good friend Mishina to the famed Shiga Kogen ski resort in Nagano, site of the 1998 Olympics skiing events. As you will no doubt remember, last time I went skiing on this trip I brought along with me my usual large contingent of female admirers, who brought me endless embarassment. Luckily for all, I was unencumbered and untethered this time around, free to bask in the glory of manhood to my heart's content. [Ed's note: Khaleelah, Hong, or Kay, if you are reading this, I was lying about the whole 'endless embarassment' thing. It only lasted a few weeks.]
The classic Mishina. An exceptional human being.
Those who know me, work with me, or have ever met me for coffee know that timeliness is not what I do best. Mishina knows this well, so he took the liberty of posting a sticky-note on my apartment door reminding me that I would get a "wake-up" call at 2:50 A.M. and that I should pack my things the night before. He made a point of saying that "We cannot be late." I appreciated the reminder. I went right inside and packed all my stuff, and then, in the spirit of careful preparation and vigilance with which I conduct all my affairs, I stayed up surfing the internet until about 12:30, thus giving me a healthy 3 hours of sleep for my long day of skiing. That's how the pros do it.
After we rendezvoused at school with the dozens of other teacher-skier types, we set off on the expressway into Nagano a little after 4 a.m. After staying awake long enough to make a pleasantry or two to my car-mates, I promptly went to sleep for the next 3 hours, waking only to pee, drool, and eat breakfast (in that order).
I quite like this coffee shop shaped like a coffee pot.
Eventually we were up at the top of the mountain, freezing our arses off. One of the teachers with us was a gym-teacher from the school, Aoyama-sensei. He is one of those guys who exudes fitness and ability from every pore. I felt inadequate just looking in his direction. He's way friendly and generous, though. Anyway, we got to the top of a steep and treacherous descent, and going first in the line, he absolutely screamed down the mountain. He got to the bottom in what seemed like 3 seconds, his legs absorbing the pounding shocks like they were nothing, his balance and poise flawless. I was speechless. This was the one to watch.
And over the course of the weekend I did learn by example. The other few skiers of our small contingent, including Mishina, were all extremely skillful skiers, which put me in the relatively unfamiliar position of being the slowest of the bunch. I was in awe of all of their abilities, but it was fantastic for me to ski with them, since I went down more challenging routes more quickly than I would have done on my own. We took black diamonds like they were nothing. They devoured moguls and spat them back out. I sort of chewed on the moguls. These guys were really, really impressive. To my own credit, I managed to do pretty much everything they did, although slightly slower. The constant pressure and excellent models helped me to improve a lot over the weekend. Later, over drinks at the apre-ski party that night, I drew compliments from Aoyama-sensei and the other most talented skier of the bunch. It felt great.
As a side note, at the full-course dinner that came included with the hotel, I managed to eat and enjoy every single one of the items except for one. This is no small feat, considering the relative strangeness of a lot of fancy Japanese food. The stuff is great, though, once you get a taste for it. I even managed to eat an entire fish, bones and all. And what's more, I enjoyed it. I even reached over and took my neighbor's fish which she didn't want. I was quite proud of this milestone in my culinary development.
Later that night, a few of us men-folk headed out to the furo, or bath, which has a huge window directly to the outside. We all stripped down to our birthday suits and then, after washing, poked our toes into the tub. It was hot enough to cook ramen in. After adjusting the water such that our skin might stand a fighting chance of staying attached to our bodies for at least ten minutes, one of us opened up the huge window with snow drifts outside, allowing into the room a furious gust of snowy, blowing wind. I wish I could describe what it's like to be sitting in a scalding hot bathtub at eleven pm in a ski resort in Japan, completely naked, being bombarded with an icy, snowy wind coming in through a massive window. It feels great. Next we got the idea to reach out the window and start throwing pieces of snow at each other. It was f-ing cold. Then we had the even brighter idea to actually climb out the window and stand in the snow for a minute. That was even colder. Then we piled a bunch of snow on top of Suzuguchi-sensei's head and let it melt for a while. It's good to be 10 again.
Check out this insane icicle near our room. The guys were pointing out the window and motioning for me to look. I didn't see anything, until I noticed this 15-foot beast right in front of me. What a monster: I couldn't even fit all of it into the camera's range of view.
The last day of skiing was a pure blizzard. Going down, I was almost stopped by the wind. I could see only a few feet in front of me, the snow was incredibly deep, and my face felt like it was being stung by about 10,000 tiny, icy needles. I was about ready to call it quits by the end of the second run. Luckily I perservered and the day got much better and I managed to improve my speed. I think I'm truly in love with skiing. I would do it every day if I could. One of the highlights had to be a near vertical run covered with insanely deep snow. It was all I could do to zig-zag my precarious way down at the speed of molasses. Aoyama-sensei, of course, sailed straight down in a way that I had only previously seen in ski videos. I however ended up in a snow drift near the bottom where the snow came up past my waist. An interesting sensation, to be half-buried in snow. Since my skis were buried, I decided the best approach was to keep moving forward, making little kicking motions with my legs and hurling my weight forward. To my surprise, slowly I began to make progress against the huge volume of snow in which I was suspended. After a good bit of effort, I managed to pop out the side of a snow wall while collapsing it behind me. It looked wayyyy cool.
After all this intense skiing, we headed into one of the lodges for a hot lunch and a cool bottle of the local Shiga Kogen microbrewery beer. It was gooood.
Some more icicles outside my window. Being from San Diego, I find it incredibly romantic to be up in a cozy room in the Alps with a winter scene like this right outside my window.
Our cars after only about a day. That's a bit of snow.
The area beneath the hotel where the outdoor bath is. Gosh I love snow!
And that was my trip to Nagano with the teachers, my third trip to Nagano this year. I love that place.
This month I again went with my colleague and good friend Mishina to the famed Shiga Kogen ski resort in Nagano, site of the 1998 Olympics skiing events. As you will no doubt remember, last time I went skiing on this trip I brought along with me my usual large contingent of female admirers, who brought me endless embarassment. Luckily for all, I was unencumbered and untethered this time around, free to bask in the glory of manhood to my heart's content. [Ed's note: Khaleelah, Hong, or Kay, if you are reading this, I was lying about the whole 'endless embarassment' thing. It only lasted a few weeks.]The classic Mishina. An exceptional human being.
Those who know me, work with me, or have ever met me for coffee know that timeliness is not what I do best. Mishina knows this well, so he took the liberty of posting a sticky-note on my apartment door reminding me that I would get a "wake-up" call at 2:50 A.M. and that I should pack my things the night before. He made a point of saying that "We cannot be late." I appreciated the reminder. I went right inside and packed all my stuff, and then, in the spirit of careful preparation and vigilance with which I conduct all my affairs, I stayed up surfing the internet until about 12:30, thus giving me a healthy 3 hours of sleep for my long day of skiing. That's how the pros do it.
After we rendezvoused at school with the dozens of other teacher-skier types, we set off on the expressway into Nagano a little after 4 a.m. After staying awake long enough to make a pleasantry or two to my car-mates, I promptly went to sleep for the next 3 hours, waking only to pee, drool, and eat breakfast (in that order).
I quite like this coffee shop shaped like a coffee pot.
Eventually we were up at the top of the mountain, freezing our arses off. One of the teachers with us was a gym-teacher from the school, Aoyama-sensei. He is one of those guys who exudes fitness and ability from every pore. I felt inadequate just looking in his direction. He's way friendly and generous, though. Anyway, we got to the top of a steep and treacherous descent, and going first in the line, he absolutely screamed down the mountain. He got to the bottom in what seemed like 3 seconds, his legs absorbing the pounding shocks like they were nothing, his balance and poise flawless. I was speechless. This was the one to watch.
And over the course of the weekend I did learn by example. The other few skiers of our small contingent, including Mishina, were all extremely skillful skiers, which put me in the relatively unfamiliar position of being the slowest of the bunch. I was in awe of all of their abilities, but it was fantastic for me to ski with them, since I went down more challenging routes more quickly than I would have done on my own. We took black diamonds like they were nothing. They devoured moguls and spat them back out. I sort of chewed on the moguls. These guys were really, really impressive. To my own credit, I managed to do pretty much everything they did, although slightly slower. The constant pressure and excellent models helped me to improve a lot over the weekend. Later, over drinks at the apre-ski party that night, I drew compliments from Aoyama-sensei and the other most talented skier of the bunch. It felt great.
As a side note, at the full-course dinner that came included with the hotel, I managed to eat and enjoy every single one of the items except for one. This is no small feat, considering the relative strangeness of a lot of fancy Japanese food. The stuff is great, though, once you get a taste for it. I even managed to eat an entire fish, bones and all. And what's more, I enjoyed it. I even reached over and took my neighbor's fish which she didn't want. I was quite proud of this milestone in my culinary development.
Later that night, a few of us men-folk headed out to the furo, or bath, which has a huge window directly to the outside. We all stripped down to our birthday suits and then, after washing, poked our toes into the tub. It was hot enough to cook ramen in. After adjusting the water such that our skin might stand a fighting chance of staying attached to our bodies for at least ten minutes, one of us opened up the huge window with snow drifts outside, allowing into the room a furious gust of snowy, blowing wind. I wish I could describe what it's like to be sitting in a scalding hot bathtub at eleven pm in a ski resort in Japan, completely naked, being bombarded with an icy, snowy wind coming in through a massive window. It feels great. Next we got the idea to reach out the window and start throwing pieces of snow at each other. It was f-ing cold. Then we had the even brighter idea to actually climb out the window and stand in the snow for a minute. That was even colder. Then we piled a bunch of snow on top of Suzuguchi-sensei's head and let it melt for a while. It's good to be 10 again.
Check out this insane icicle near our room. The guys were pointing out the window and motioning for me to look. I didn't see anything, until I noticed this 15-foot beast right in front of me. What a monster: I couldn't even fit all of it into the camera's range of view.
The last day of skiing was a pure blizzard. Going down, I was almost stopped by the wind. I could see only a few feet in front of me, the snow was incredibly deep, and my face felt like it was being stung by about 10,000 tiny, icy needles. I was about ready to call it quits by the end of the second run. Luckily I perservered and the day got much better and I managed to improve my speed. I think I'm truly in love with skiing. I would do it every day if I could. One of the highlights had to be a near vertical run covered with insanely deep snow. It was all I could do to zig-zag my precarious way down at the speed of molasses. Aoyama-sensei, of course, sailed straight down in a way that I had only previously seen in ski videos. I however ended up in a snow drift near the bottom where the snow came up past my waist. An interesting sensation, to be half-buried in snow. Since my skis were buried, I decided the best approach was to keep moving forward, making little kicking motions with my legs and hurling my weight forward. To my surprise, slowly I began to make progress against the huge volume of snow in which I was suspended. After a good bit of effort, I managed to pop out the side of a snow wall while collapsing it behind me. It looked wayyyy cool.
After all this intense skiing, we headed into one of the lodges for a hot lunch and a cool bottle of the local Shiga Kogen microbrewery beer. It was gooood.
Some more icicles outside my window. Being from San Diego, I find it incredibly romantic to be up in a cozy room in the Alps with a winter scene like this right outside my window.
Our cars after only about a day. That's a bit of snow.
The area beneath the hotel where the outdoor bath is. Gosh I love snow!
And that was my trip to Nagano with the teachers, my third trip to Nagano this year. I love that place.
Good Evening
The sun reflects off the gym at the end of another school day at Nakatsu High School, December 2007.
Deconstructing Nakatsu High School
The folks at Nakatsu High are planning to build two new buildings over the next couple years, so they brought in a demolition crew in December to destroy the first of the the 50-year old school buildings. We had already completely emptied out the school building and moved to a temporary one in August, but it wasn't until December that they finally brought in the big machines and got to work. I was taken aback by how rapid it was. They spent what seemed like weeks building scaffolding around it and carefully removing panes of glass, etc, then one day I looked out the window of my own classroom in the adjoining building and saw poking out above the tarp what appeared to be a gigantic dinosaur eating the school. That's all I can really describe it as. The machines had these huge jaw-like attachments fitted to them, and they were insanely powerful. I watched as they would position them around a thick concrete pillar, and once they put the pressure on, the concrete would just explode under the pressure. It was really impressive. To watch it, I sat on the top of an adjoining building with some senior students and watched as these crazy machines ate the school bit by bit. It was hard to imagine that under all that rubble was where my first desk was, and where I had had so many experiences. They seem a little more fleeting, now that the building is gone. Now there is only a big dirt field. But as they say, the only constant is change.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Cradle of Bewilderment, I mean Civilization
A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with one of the history teachers of the school, and he knew that I had studied history at university. He asked what my areas of interest were, and I responded that I liked the Middle East and India in particular. So he asked if I could give a 1-hour lecture to his history class, which was composed of students in the school's English track. For some mysterious reason, I agreed. He's a pretty darn erudite guy, so I was very, very nervous about not coming off like an uninformed dolt. Not sure if that was accomplished.
It was only later that I realized that it's hard enough teaching anything to anybody in a language they barely understand, let alone something as complicated as Middle Eastern history. And my English classes usually have lots of activities to break up the monotony of me talking. But this was just gonna be straight, unadulterated 50 minutes of me. Personally, I couldn't stand the thought of listening to my own voice for such an uninterrupted period. I'm sure you can understand. So, you would have thought that, given this challenge, I would simplify for the sake of clarity. Oh, quite the opposite. I decided that I was going to cover Middle Eastern history right, and in my warped mind that meant everything from about 8,000 BC until yesterday. In 50 minutes. Therein lay the rub.
I was crazy busy that week, but I spent hours over many nights agonizing over how to give a 1-hour lecture on this subject and what and how to teach them. I even considered dropping the subject in favor of Central and South American history, in which case I was gonna tell them where many of the foods we know and love today really came from (ie, chili peppers, chocolate, potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, tobacco, vanilla, cranberries, blackberries, pumpkins, turkeys, and, of course, the avocado. Really, where would the world be without guacamole?
I really didn't spend enough prep time, though, because when the hour came I was pretty much resigned to relying on my year and a half's worth of "winging it" experience. That and a massive chalk timeline I hastily drew behind me, as well as some pitifully undersized maps. It started off well enough, with a nice visual aid in the form of a map of the Middle East passed out to each student with some prominent countries' names missing. I had them identify Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey, which they did with reasonable success. However, once the visual aids stopped and the discussion of Catal Huyuk and early Sumerian civilization began, they were lost. As for me, I started a quiet panic in which I would write things on the board, think of stuff to say about them, stare off into space for a minute, lost in thought, wipe sweat off my brow, point to the handout, erase what I had written. And of course there was the inevitable and pointless appeal to the audience: "Okay so far?" Once we passed into the Common Era I entered my knowledge comfort zone a little more, so winging it became less painful for all, but still, man, teaching is hard! I think I only managed to pique their interest when I mentioned all the amazing things the Arabs were doing while Europeans were busy flinging their dung at each other. That is truly fascinating stuff, I must admit.
It doesn't get much better than being up at the front of 40 students, literally sweating balls, frantically trying to simplify your explanation of how the Arabs started the first university to offer degrees and how this was a really great thing. The kids did a decent job of faking a bit of comprehension and/or interest, though, I'll give them that.
After the lesson, I asked the best student from the class, a girl who embraces English with a passionate love and who studies diligently everyday and talks to me as much as she possibly can. "Were you able to understand it?" I asked her, expectantly. With a huge gleaming smile on her face, she replied enthusiastically, "No, but it was still great!"
There you go, folks. I love this country.
Part of my magnificent handout:
The visual aid that worked:
It was only later that I realized that it's hard enough teaching anything to anybody in a language they barely understand, let alone something as complicated as Middle Eastern history. And my English classes usually have lots of activities to break up the monotony of me talking. But this was just gonna be straight, unadulterated 50 minutes of me. Personally, I couldn't stand the thought of listening to my own voice for such an uninterrupted period. I'm sure you can understand. So, you would have thought that, given this challenge, I would simplify for the sake of clarity. Oh, quite the opposite. I decided that I was going to cover Middle Eastern history right, and in my warped mind that meant everything from about 8,000 BC until yesterday. In 50 minutes. Therein lay the rub.
I was crazy busy that week, but I spent hours over many nights agonizing over how to give a 1-hour lecture on this subject and what and how to teach them. I even considered dropping the subject in favor of Central and South American history, in which case I was gonna tell them where many of the foods we know and love today really came from (ie, chili peppers, chocolate, potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, tobacco, vanilla, cranberries, blackberries, pumpkins, turkeys, and, of course, the avocado. Really, where would the world be without guacamole?
I really didn't spend enough prep time, though, because when the hour came I was pretty much resigned to relying on my year and a half's worth of "winging it" experience. That and a massive chalk timeline I hastily drew behind me, as well as some pitifully undersized maps. It started off well enough, with a nice visual aid in the form of a map of the Middle East passed out to each student with some prominent countries' names missing. I had them identify Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey, which they did with reasonable success. However, once the visual aids stopped and the discussion of Catal Huyuk and early Sumerian civilization began, they were lost. As for me, I started a quiet panic in which I would write things on the board, think of stuff to say about them, stare off into space for a minute, lost in thought, wipe sweat off my brow, point to the handout, erase what I had written. And of course there was the inevitable and pointless appeal to the audience: "Okay so far?" Once we passed into the Common Era I entered my knowledge comfort zone a little more, so winging it became less painful for all, but still, man, teaching is hard! I think I only managed to pique their interest when I mentioned all the amazing things the Arabs were doing while Europeans were busy flinging their dung at each other. That is truly fascinating stuff, I must admit.
It doesn't get much better than being up at the front of 40 students, literally sweating balls, frantically trying to simplify your explanation of how the Arabs started the first university to offer degrees and how this was a really great thing. The kids did a decent job of faking a bit of comprehension and/or interest, though, I'll give them that.
After the lesson, I asked the best student from the class, a girl who embraces English with a passionate love and who studies diligently everyday and talks to me as much as she possibly can. "Were you able to understand it?" I asked her, expectantly. With a huge gleaming smile on her face, she replied enthusiastically, "No, but it was still great!"
There you go, folks. I love this country.
Part of my magnificent handout:
The visual aid that worked:
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Beautiful Winter
The top picture is the scene that greeted me the morning after I returned from the majestic snow-filled vistas of Nagano, and the other two are the snowstorm that greeted me the morning after that. It was actually my first time to see heavy snow in Nakatsugawa.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Morning of Snow
As Ed and I made our way to the lift early in the morning last Sunday, we were accompanied by a light dusting of snow. It made for a beautiful morning.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Paper beauties
These lovely ladies are two paper dolls made by me and the Hongster as Christmas presents for my mom and step-mom. As we did in June, we journeyed to the upstairs sweatshop/home of Chisako, the nice Japanese lady who has the patience to teach people like me to create veritable pieces of art such as this. They truly are beautiful.These dolls are depictions of maiko, who are young apprentice geisha. Actually, when we think of a geisha, it is usually the young maiko whose image we have in mind. They wear extremely colorful kimonos and bright white makeup, as well as many fancy ornaments in their hair. Of these two dolls, the blue maiko is mine and the purple and orange maiko is Hong's. The texture of the paper and the delicacy of the details really are extraordinary. I could look at them all day:) In fact, I got an inordinate amount of pleasure out of looking at my doll. I just think these dolls are such astounding pieces of beauty, yet they are so simple. Like so many things in Japan.
The texture and details are really nice, so I suggest clicking on the pictures to see them full-screen.
Enjoy!
Local Snow
Mount Ena, my favorite local mountain and the friendly and benevolent overseer of our town. This view was taken about a month ago, right after a snowstorm deposited a nice thick blanket up there. Lately there hasn't been much snow, though. It's been another unseasonably warm winter around these parts, though of course it's still plenty to make a SoCal pansy like me cry mercy! I like sitting in the warm teachers' room and looking up at Mt. Ena. It's strange to be in a nice warm, dry environment and to look right up at the mountain where there's obviously a tempest raging. How weird to have two completely different environments so close to each other.This weekend, it's off to Hakuba in the Japanese Alps for some serious skiing. I think there will be more than enough snow there!
Friday, January 18, 2008
What is wrong with the media?
Okay, folks, I just can't take it. I think it's time for a full-on boycott of 24-hour cable news networks. I just cannot stand the ridiculous questions they continue to ask the major presidential candidates. There are real, substantive questions to be asked, but they don't ask them most of the time. They try to stir up TV-friendly drama by ENDLESSLY asking, "Is this country ready for a black president? Is this country ready for a woman president? What's a white male to do running against these historic candidacies?" These questions could have been pertinent at one time, but they have been beaten into the ground. And the analysis of "electability" and the forecasts of each primary. They have been wrong so many times, yet they continue to make these predictions before the fact, a practice which is sure to influence what happens in those elections. Why don't they just shut the heck up and wait to see how the people voted? I don't know how the candidates endure the daily barrage of inanity thrown their way by the staff of the major television media outlets of this country. I think we were probably all a lot better off when we got our news at 6 pm from Walter Cronkite. There is no need for this constant and substanceless analysis. These people are influencing our democracy for the worst, I'm quite sure of it, and I don't think they have the integrity or the ability to handle that responsibility. I say Down with CNN, down with MSNBC, and down with FOX. Just go to the candidates' websites and read their position papers. That's all you need to know about their plans for this country. Or, if you don't have time for that, at least read a newspaper. They take a little more time to evaluate things in a more meaningful way.
Hillary Clinton: http://www.hillaryclinton.com/?splash=1
Barack Obama: http://www.barackobama.com/
John Edwards: http://www.johnedwards.com/splash/
Hillary Clinton: http://www.hillaryclinton.com/?splash=1
Barack Obama: http://www.barackobama.com/
John Edwards: http://www.johnedwards.com/splash/
Monday, January 07, 2008
Welcome home
So after spending many fabulous days in my hometown of San Diego, where the temperature didn't drop much below 78 degrees during the daytime the whole time I was there, imagine my shock upon returning to Japan at the beginning of January. It was a cold, blistery slap, I tell you! I came back last Wednesday afternoon, and the next morning I was greeted with a new and unexpected carpet of snow. That meant that I couldn't go anywhere until I hauled myself outside, pulled all the crrrrap out of my storage unit, and installed the snow tires on my car. Though this task is an undeniable pain in the ass, it sure makes me feel like a man. I mean, look at this rugged sight. Right after I installed the tires, all the snow promptly melted.
I had a great trip home. It was so wonderful to see my family and a few friends, and to just soak in the whole environment of being home. After being on my own here for going on six years, every time I come home I appreciate being there a little more. There is just nothing like it.
Now I've got about 7 months left until I plan to leave Japan. I'm not sure what's next. But for now, my goal is to make these 7 months the best yet, and to enjoy the friendships I've worked to develop. There are a lot of people here who have treated me beyond wonderfully, and I'm very lucky to have met them.
Anyway, life is good, hope everyone else is doing well. Nighty night.
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