Thoughts on Responsibility, among other things

So, a friend that I met here in Massachusetts and who is a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer sent me this article.

You can read the article or not.. basically, it speaks to the efficacy of the modern Peace Corps. Since host countries are home to larger populations of college grads than they were in the early 60s when the Peace Corps was established, the article argues that recent college grads from the US have little more to offer host countries than grads sourced locally. The author, a former volunteer, recruiter, and country director, argues that Peace Corps should focus on recruiting more older and experienced volunteers, instead of armies of inexperienced young ones - and I can't help but agree.

To some, this may seem like sour grapes. I wasn't able to go abroad, so now I'm sitting on the sidelines second guessing the whole operation. But that's not necessarily the case.

Heifer Project International, the organization for which I am now volunteering, seems to do things the right way. It's frustrating as someone who spent four years on a major in international studies and who has a strong desire to go abroad, to do good, to contribute, to work for an organization that absolutely will not hire an American for a position abroad. Sure, if you work your way up towards the top and have something significant to contribute, they may send you abroad to evaluate various projects, but your nameplate always hangs on your office door stateside. HPI sources all of their people locally - employing and training locals to be a part of the Heifer system. Teach a man to fish.

It seems to me that, as hard as it is to admit, this is the best model. Were I able to leave and go abroad last November, I would be somewhere in Namibia putting my 2 years of experience to work consulting some NGO. Doesn't it make much more sense to find the right person IN NAMIBIA to do this job? This person wouldn't have to overcome cultural adjustments and the language barrier, and would be able to invest more than the 2 years allowed by the Peace Corps. Plus, the government would be providing white-collar jobs in areas suffering from brain-drain.

That being said, I would love the chance, should I someday have enough of the right experience, to go abroad and contribute. But until I have something to contribute, the responsible thing is to stay here and take part in all of the good things going on here while gaining the experience that will allow me to grow and contribute in new and different ways.

On another note....I turn 26 today, and, as one tends to do on one's birthday, I've been thinking about my path - how I'm growing and contributing (or not). I have only a few weeks left in my stint here at Overlook Farm. After a visit to NYC, Texas is where I'm going to be. I have a bit of a hodgepodge resume, which I suppose accurately reflects my hodgepodge of interests. It's now time, I fear, to...settle isn't the right word.... to pick which way I want to go. Now, as my Dad says, I'm really not THAT old, so I don't feel as though I'm on the verge of heading down some irreversible course for my life, heading towards some point of no return.

While not old, I'm not 22 anymore. It's time that I start really committing (I cough, awkwardly) to something. And that's pretty much as far as I've gotten. A month from today I'll be entering my last week at Overlook Farm, and from there I'll find some other job that allows me to be comfortable in my own skin, challenges me, teaches me something, and affords me the opportunity to meet new and wonderful people. I don't expect to be that friend that drops hints about the size of my portfolio, but I hope to be that friend that continues to try new things and push myself while working to contribute to something that positively affects others.  That, I feel, is the responsible way to go.

Breakin' in the Lasso

So, a few days before I left Texas, J-M gave me a rope. Well, the above picture shows a classic "now what" moment. We tried for about 15 minutes to get the rope around the loose cow. We weren't sure what to do once the cow was tied up. Eventually, after being drug through about 1/4 mile of woods, she got herself all tangled up and we were able to grab her. Cows, you see, are huge and can pretty much do whatever they want to do. The trick is to not let them realize that. She figured it out and we were just along for the ride.

“Muck” is a Verb…Who Knew??

So, I’m living here on a farm near Rutland, MA, and if my first day is any indication, I’m going to be doing quite a bit of work, having alot of fun, having my fair share of adventures.

The first person I met last night was an older guy who picked me up from the airport. The farm is about an hour from Boston, so we had a while to get to know each other. Just in our short time together in the car, I was able to learn that he worked for the NSA for a couple of years before starting his 40+ year career as a freelance interpreter. In addition to English, he speaks Spanish, German, Russian, in addition to who knows how many other languages that just didn’t come up in conversation. He and his wife are now retired and, living out of their motor home, volunteer full time splitting time between Overlook Farm and a couple of marine refuges in Florida.

I am already impressed by the type of people involved with Heifer, and I’m not even to the farm yet.

When I arrived at the farm, I received a warm welcome from everybody in my house. (The house, by the way, is called “Camelot” because the camel’s pen is adjacent to the house.) The only other guy in the house is my roommate, Matt. He’s about my age, plays guitar, and is a returned Peace Corps volunteer, so we’ve got some stuff in common.

This post is already waaaay too long, so I’ll tell you as briefly as possible about my first day….

I spent most of the morning “mucking,” that is, shoveling cow poo from one place to the other. Then I moved some cows (a mother and her calf that just dropped on Friday) to another pen so that I could convert their little barn into a series of stalls that we’ll use for breeding goats. (I’m already calling it the Cabrito Love Shack. We’ll see if it sticks) While moving the same cows later in the day, we had to walk them through the camel pasture. When the camel got between the mother and her calf, the mother head-butted the camel, which caused the camel to rear up like some pissed-off horse. Now, camels are big animals when they are on all fours. When they rear up like that, you’ll want to go ahead and get out of their way.

So, lots of other stuff happened today (loose cows, frightened children, dogs herding sheep…), but I’ll save them for later.

Thanks for reading….I’ll be better about posting. As always, comments are more than welcome, even if they’re completely unrelated to the post.

I’m off to eat another meal made solely from organic vegetables and fresh dairy products….it’s rough.

The Road to 'Minority Report,' '1984,' and 'Children of Men'-esque Government Control is Paved with Stories Like This

People (mostly conservatives) who are of the "I don't care if you listen to what I say on the phone because I'm not breaking any laws" school of thought are naively and lazily handing over control of the freedoms of which they are so vocally proud to people who have little regard for personal privacy or liberty. Just as they shop at Wal-Mart while bitching about jobs moving abroad, these same people can be seen waiving flags while the foundation for what that flag used to represent being whithered away. Unfortunately, 57 Democrats proved themselves weak and susceptible to Administration fear-mongering, leaving the concerned minority with fewer allies than we might have assumed.

We should all be at least a little worried at this point.

A Couple of Bourne Observations

***NO SPOILERS HERE****

So, I just got back from seeing the new Bourne Existential movie, and I have a few observations to make.

1. Having seen shots from Turin, Madrid, France, London, and NYC, I have to say that while they are all just big worldly cities, they make Dallas look pretty boring. Not that I'm looking for a greater bomb in the marketplace to person ratio, but all of those tiny streets just look fun.

2. I have now expanded the exclusive and invitation-only "Women who are allowed to date Travis Kelly" list to include Julia Stiles. I haven't decided where she ranks in regard to Reese Witherspoon and Jenny Lewis, but she'll have to wait patiently just like all of the other ladies. If nothing else, I suppose she could teach me to dance.

3. Was the last scene supposed to be a very convincing and not too subtle attempt to dissuade each and every potential Army recruit that they might end up an unwilling participant in a super-secret government killing program, or was that just my take?

4. Maybe it is just me. I just heard from my Peace Corps Placement Officer. After asking me questions about the most private and emotionally sensitive topics in my life, she told me that the possibility of my leaving in late October/early November was "very real." She couldn't tell me where I'd be going or what I'd be doing once I arrived. I suppose that all of this secrecy is just part of the DC vernacular. Hopefully this is one of the few things that the Peace Corps shares with the War Corps.

Guns, Oil, and Money: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

So, I was quite flattered the other day when a friend told me that he was suprized that I hadn't commented on the recently announced arms deal between the US and various ME countries. The reason I hadn't commented is because I had been completely and totally out of the loop in regards to all things news. When I read what was going on, I was (unfortunately) not surprised, but was definitely scared.

For those of you who don't know, the US just announced, via a tag team tour of the region by Rice and Gates, that it would increase aid to 8 ME countries by over $60 billion over the next 10 years - IN THE FORM OF MILITARY AID. Essentially, we're giving them money with the understanding that they will turn around and purchase tanks, planes, missiles, bombs, etc from US companies. And just in case you thought Bush was turning meek in his lame duck days, he's claiming that these guns will help "empower the moderate voices in the region."

Wow.

If I'm ever asked to make a list of noteworthy moderates, I don't think that Charles Bronson or Tony Montana would make the list. Maybe I'm just being naive, but I tend to think that moderates can do almost all of their work WITHOUT TANKS. Does Bush really watch the news and think "Geez, if only the moderates were better armed they could make a real difference."

Not that our actions in Iraq are moderate by any stretch of the imagination, but nobody is as well-armed as we are, and all we've accomplished is the picking of a giant sandy scab. It's gonna decades to heal, if it ever does, and more guns is not their problem. In fact, the 190,000 guns that we've distributed to the bad guys hasn’t really made the place any safer.

In trying to actually figure out what could be the real reason for this deal, I figured that I had at least two options from which to choose. Option 1, the Bush Administration is completely corrupt and this $60 billion dollar donation to US arms manufacturers is simply that—a handout to ‘friendly’ countries for personal and/or political gain. Option 2, the vacuous Whitehouse braintrust actually thinks that by arming Iran’s neighbors they can intimidate Iran into backing down. (Note: see ‘arms race,’ ‘MAD,’ and ‘pipedream’)

Now, even I am not cynical enough to believe option 1. I don’t think that Dubya has enough to gain from such an arms deal that he would risk such a front page-bound move. Plus, he has certainly proven himself capable of such naivety in regards to easy fixes to complex problems. (Note: see ‘Iraq,’ ‘Afghanistan,’ ‘education,’ ‘AIDS,’ ‘Medicare,’ ‘tax reform,’ ‘social security,’ and ‘Al Gonzalez’) So, I think that it is most likely an unfortunate combination of options 1 and 2. He (Cheney) thinks that more guns can actually create peace, and the military industrial complex helped make the decision anything but complex for him.

Let’s, if just for a moment, look at this from Iran’s point of view. (I realize that if talking to Iranian leaders is unpatriotic that looking at things from their point of view is likely to get me shot for treason.) This map, which is oversimplified and pretty bad, but the only one I could really find,




shows the crazy number of permanent US military bases in countries that border Iran. Again, this map is rather vague, but the number from a map that appeared several months ago in The Economist put the number at 15. So, the US occupies two countries on your border, and has 15 PERMANENT military bases and two carrier groups well within striking distance of you. What do you do? You look remember that the US has never attacked a country with nuclear weapons and you start cranking the bitches out. As fast as you can.

Iran is only acting in its own interests, that is clear. I’m not sure in whose interests we are most interested. Looking at this map, I hardly think the region is suffering from a shortage of guns. I think that Dubya's legacy as a peace monger might be in jeapardy here.

Take A Picture - It'll Last Longer

Now that the guys are back in DFW for the time being, we decided that a night out on the town was an appropriate way to celebrate and make the most of our being back together.  After dinner at Kenichi, strategically positioned to become the go-to sushi place for the trendy and ultra-rich, we were ready to have a few cocktails.  Even though I had deliberately chosen a restaurant in the middle of Plastic Dallas, I was not too excited about the prospect of what would likely become our next stop - Ghostbar.

First, a couple of notes to those that aren't "in the know."  Ghostbar is located at the top (33rd floor) of the new W Hotel.  Graced (allegedly) regularly by celebrities, it is the place to go if you are looking for a scene, or just want to be seen.

That being said, I justified our visit by noting that "this is definitely one of those places that you only go once."  I said this on the way up to the club, but I didn't mean to poo-poo on the party.  It's just not the type of place or crowd that I typically enjoy.



I immediately caught flack for throwing cold water on the white-hot excitement brought about by the imminent explosion of all things fabulous.  I'll have to admit that while I can't see myself ever setting foot in that place again, I did enjoy the experience.  It became quite obvious that no money was spared in the planning of the club's amazing lighting schemes, ultra-modern furniture, flooring, and paint schemes, and the great patio looking out over downtown Dallas.  On the surface, this was a first-class place - right down to the clientele.  Most everybody was very well dressed and expertly coiffed (I, the bearded, pearl snap shirt-clad sore thumb being a notable exception, of course) to complement the high aesthetic standards of the venue.

Though I should have known better than to look much past the surface of such a place that was obviously designed to be easy on the eyes, I couldn't help myself.  Not much of a "scenester," I was not completely won over by the skin-deep beauty of the place.  My other senses were only patient for so long.  After all, I was there to have a drink.  Surely this neon pinnacle of Dallas nightlife would offer first-class high-end products for its discerning clientele.  Not so much.

The first three vodkas and two gins that I requested (all of which can be found in any of the city's 3 or 4 star restaurants) were not to be found.  The bartender, who was nice enough but less than accommodating to my questions than I would have liked, had to ask her bar back what vodkas they had.  When I did get my drinks, they were served in plastic cups.  Though not the red frat party-esque dixie cups, they did feel incredibly cheap for a place that charges a $20 cover on the weekends.  I mean, really, did I just get the kiddy cup, or is this the stuff they serve Justin Timberlake when he visits?

So, exhausted by the sleazy old men on the prowl and the lethal saturation of uber-snobbery in the room, we hit the road after one round.

I'm just incredibly more comfortable in Adair's, the Elbow Room, Milo's, Amsterdam Bar, etc.  No doubt we all do our share of pretending to be something that we're not, and perhaps if/when I have the means to frequent places like Ghostbar I'll understand why it exists.  But I'm just incredibly more comfortable in a place that's dark, smokey, and filled with crashing billiard balls and people of all ages and backgrounds shouting "Sweet Caroline" as loud as they wish.

You can keep your unblemished and surgically-enhanced go-go dancer cocktail servers and bartenders, I'll take the friendly and "average" looking server that shakes my hand when I walk in.