How is this my life? Vol. 1: Food

Dear Mom:

I know what you're going to ask.  Am I eating well? the answer is: undoubtedly yes.  Too well, in fact.  

In the past few days, I have had:  

• An average of 2 cups of espresso daily.  One at breakfast, once at lunch
• Fruit and vegetables at every meal.  The salad comes with aglio e oglio (oil and vinegar), so is  simple and delicious. 
•  Italian fresh mozzarella, French Gruyere, along with killer charcuterie.
• A small glass of French wine maybe every other day for dinner.   And on Sunday, we had champagne, just because it was Sunday
• Nutella out of a small pail (at right), to have on whatever I'd like
• Various cakes, pies, and homemade desserts
• French and Italian entrees: Chicken Cordon Bleu, Penne Bolognese, Flank Steak.  Lasagne. 
• This weekend, an Iranian friend of one of the sisters brought us a delicious rice and meat dish with yogurt sauce. I've been craving my hummus and other favorite flavors from this part of the world, so this was giant spoonful of heaven (which tastes like seasoned rice and meat, in case you were curious) for me. 
• 2 bars of Swiss chocolate to celebrate the Feast Days of St. John Bosco and St. Francis de Sales, the founder and spiritual inspiration for the Salesians.  
• Homemade crepes with the aforementioned Nutella

Almost every day I have the realization about how lucky this makes me.  And to quote my friend Maria Paula, it always evokes the question, "How is this my life?" (MP usually used this for absurdly unpleasant experiences, but I think it works just as well for the good)

Happy Mom?

Love,

Laura

I could go on, but that would just be mean. And there's a larger point in this (this post was not supposed to end up here, but it did). 

I was describing this to my friends back home, which raised the probably obvious question . .  How is that a life of poverty and simplicity?  It's an interesting question, and here's my best attempt to answer it as I understand things.

Community dinner. 

Yes, the community is comfortable, but far from opulent, really, quite simple, relative to the community it serves (I have not yet witnessed poverty as I understand it in Geneva). And above all, it's a community of collective comfort but individual humility.   As a member of the community who is contributing in my small way to part of its mission, I have the privilege of participating in community meals, as delicious and nutritious as they are.  But it is not my food, and I am not entitled to it except insofar as I am participating in the community.  I do not have a cubby of food with my name on it that no one else can take and I do not choose what I want to eat this evening.  The sisters have a little more say as these things are their responsibility, but in general, all find out what is for dinner, and enjoy it gladly and gratefully.

There's something beautiful and liberating about this. . . like I've written previously, DC by the end was a little exhausting with all the little choices I had to make (apparently this is a real phenomenon known as "decision fatigue"). I was constantly playing mental tug of war with the world trying to make the most of my highly finite time and money.  Now those decisions are made apart from me, either by one of the sisters or simply by the routines that have been built in the community and wider culture over the decades (both European and Salesian culture definitely have deeper roots than I'm accustomed to.)  The constant act of deciding, the tug of war has been outsourced.

Trading my burger and beer
cravings in for espresso,
pannetone and gruyere.

But in roughly 6 months, I will reenter the world and be thrown back into a world of a million choices, of greater autonomy.  And it will be nice to eat according to my cravings, and enjoy the American fashion of appropriating everyone else's food, manipulating it in some way and then eating cuisines from a different continent every night.  And when not overwhelmed by choice, it can be extraordinarily rewarding to procure my ingredients and manipulate them to produce something  new and delicious.

But the constant choosing may become a burden once again, and I do not know if the regained freedom of choice will be harder after these few months of life in community, or easier thanks to these months of reprieve and personal development.  I will find out, for better or for worse.   But in the meantime, I am embracing this life of delicious simplicity.

Dinnertime. Ciao for now!

Laura

Slightly more candid, Simon-Pierre included.  

Taken from the IIMA Blog: Israel's No-Show

While a more substantial reflection on my work here (among other things) is, per usual, forthcoming, I thought I would start by sharing a sample of what I've done so far, a blog entry on Israel's non-participation in the Universal Periodic Review, a first-ever occurrence that poses a significant challenge to the Human Rights Council.  I had the opportunity to attend the session and see the diplomatic drama go down.  It was definitely something that attracted a lot of attention locally. Seats that often remain empty were filled with a number of people from every acronym imaginable (usually the reverse of the ones I'm famliar with from DC. . . FMI, BW, etc. )

Here's an article from the New York Times on the topic.  

And here's the entry from the IIMA (Salesian Human Rights Office) blog, (English edition).  The original draft was written with the help of my wonderful colleague, Sofi from Mexico. 

Enjoy!

Preserving the Integrity of the Universal Periodic Review: The Case of Israel’s Non-Cooperation

On January 29, 2013, the State of Israel was scheduled to undergo its second Universal Periodic Review (UPR), but the Israeli Mission to the UN did not present its report to the United Nations Human Rights Council (HRC), or attend the designated session.

Other States made statements regarding this unprecedented occurrence. Many shared the concern that by breaking the pattern of cooperation, Israel has opened the door to non-cooperation by others. All States present expressed enormous respect for the UPR, but disagreed about how to respond to the situation in order to preserve the universality and integrity of the mechanism, and thus, its unique role in promoting human rights.

HRC President, Mr. Remigiusz Henczel, distributed a draft decision proposing a way forward in the case of Israel, and as a precedent for any future instances of non-cooperation.   The proposal called for the President to engage with Israel and urge it to resume its cooperation.  If he succeeds, its UPR will be rescheduled for 2013.

As the meeting concluded, the resolution passed by consensus. Many States and observers hope that the on-going formation of a new Israeli government will lead to re-engagement with the HRC.

---

On a less professional note, Sofi and I
giving our WTH Israel faces. . . 

Semi-brilliant in one language, an idiot in several.

Buon Giorno!  Buenos Dias!  Bonjour!  Welcome to my life.

As someone who claims to love languages and has tried to learn several of them, I never expected to feel so outgunned.

My repertoire is as follows: English, good at understanding and reading Spanish and can speak it enough to express basic ideas, a bit of Italian (hi, how are you, my name is Laura! Thank you! You're Welcome!), about the same in Farsi, and moderate, but rusty Arabic.

The predominant language in Geneva is French.  Mass here at the convent is in French.  But living with so many Italians I frequently forget that I'm not in Italy.

My community now consists of the following (sorry housemates if I've "misunderestimated you"

•  A Mexican Amiga: Speaks Spanish and good English
• A French Dude: Speaks French, Spanish, and is working on English
• An Italian Guy: Speaks Italian, Polish, Pretty Good Spanish and good English
• An Italian Lady:  Speaks Italian, good English, and Spanish
• My boss, an Italian Salesian Sister, speaks Italian, French, Spanish, and OK English
• Two Italian Salesian Sisters, who speak Italian, French, some Spanish and hardly any English

In case you want that data visualized, here you go

What this means is that I'm the only one who can't communicate effectively in Spanish, Italian or French.

In a lot of ways, English here functions as the lowest common denominator, spoken only when necessary, and often translated exclusively for me.  I sometimes try/have to speak Spanish, at which point I'm pretty sure my linguistic talents sound somewhat like Colin Firth trying to speak Portuguese in Love Actually, except I lack both the good looks and charming accent of Colin Firth.

I'm aware this is really a good thing, a valuable learning experience, the kind of international experience I've always dreamt of.  Those who know English happy to translate for me. I'm getting better at understanding Spanish and Italian, to the point where I get the idea long before the translator has time to do his/her magic.  I also realize that my English writing and editing skills, honed over years of quality education and work experience make me uniquely valuable to the work we do here.  When editing English documents written by non-native English speakers, I can spot the awkward phrases, the wrong preposition or a missing article from what feels like a mile away.

Except for my pride.  My pride doesn't like this one bit.  I love languages.  I love the intellectual challenge; I love being able to  make connections with people who I wouldn't be able to communicate with otherwise.  And I don't like being bad at things I care about. I don't like sounding like Colin Firth speaking Portuguese (English would be OK).  I don't like listening to political discussions in a mix of French, Spanish, and Italian and understanding the main topic of discussion, but falling short of getting the fine points of the argument or throwing in my two cents.  Or a full Swiss Franc's worth (My friends might tell you my rants/lectures are at least a few Euro).

Lost in translation in Panama City?

But I chose to put my Spanish aside to start Arabic,  haven't really studied Arabic since 2009, never picked up Italian again after 8th grade, and now am not really useful for more than the basics in anything but English.  And now, I sometimes wonder if I should have just kept with Spanish.  I frequently wish I had the self-control to make myself learn languages independently, so I could have spent a couple of hours on Arabic every week.  But if wishes were horses. . .

Which brings me to another point.  I've also learned my English is bad.  I talk too fast (bringing back memories of when one of my students in Egypt wrote on his evaluation "Kill Laura, or tell her to talk slower.") and my Southern-Midwest accent is apparently harder to understand than when I fake a British accent.  I can't use phrases like "if wishes were horses," "the odds are," "my two cents" "easy on the eyes," and such things and actually be understood.  I really try to speak more slowly, use more generic vocabulary, but it's been hard to make the adjustment. Especially since my sense of humor is very  wordplay- and irony-centric, I'm pretty sure my new friends think I'm just really weird.

I AM OK with being
 bad at heiroglyphics.

Yes, I'm whining. I know in my heart this new situation is a blessing in disguise for me; in Egypt, I almost never had to speak Arabic except in class, and so failed to develop spoken Arabic like I'd hoped.

Really, if my only complaint is that I'm not better, then I just need to work harder.  Hopefully once I wrap up the process of finishing up my business from the States (paying last bills, a few loose ends on grad school applications) I can spend some of the quality time this simpler lifestyle allows reviewing Spanish vocabulary, Italian grammar, and maybe some Arabic in anticipation of VIDES Part 2: South Sudanese Edition.

Sorry for the whiny entry, dear readers.  Needed to get it out of my system.  Next up, the most global language of all: FOOD.

Ciao for now!
Laura

A Tsunami in Geneva?

Lake Geneva, 1.26.13

Yes, you read that right.

Anyone who knows me personally knows of my strong affection for the Economist.  I love it for a number of reasons, including that it addresses in detail, global events and issues I never would have known or even considered.

Such as this article, "Lake Monsters: Tsunamis on Lake Geneva," which I read a few months ago, and with my plane ticket already booked, I haven`t been able to get it out of my mind.

Apparently, a) lakes can get tsunamis and b) Lake Geneva has had a history of them, the latest of which was in 563 AD.  At that point the New World (as defined by Europe) wasn`t even a glimmer in anyone`s eye, but there was enough of Geneva there for bridges, windmills and nearby villages to be wiped out.   Conventional wisdom said it was a one-off caused by a rockslide, but recent research suggests it may have happened before, perhaps 5 times in the last 13,000 years.  Science is pretty cool, no?

So the odds are extremely good that I won`t experience a tsunami while I`m here.  But it's not impossible. I`ve used this article to help put my inexplicable love of the Middle East and next placement in Juba into perspective for those who simply think: "Africa/Middle East=scary and dangerous."  Yes, the news reminds us daily that these regions are dominated by developing countries at risk for instability. Still, what the news doesn't always get across is that these places are homes to millions and billions of people, including foreigners and expats, almost all of whom will get up tomorrow and go about their days in peace. We're wired to be awful at risk assessment, and media bias only makes it worse.  Of course, I'm absolutely taking risks with my choices of locale, and I will have to exercise a great deal of caution anywhere I go, monitor the social and political situations that affect me closely, and take measures like registering with the State Department.

But Juba, Cairo, and their neighbors are not the only place where bad things happen, and I try to keep that in perspective.  I could get hit by a car in St. Louis,  get struck by lightning, or, apparently, experience a tsunami in Geneva.  If I let scary unknowns put me in a permanent state of fear, if my life decisions perpetually overcount the potential dangers and undercount the incredible things I can do and experience, well that`s so much worse than facing a once-in-a-few-millennia tsunami striking a landlocked country and destroying one of the world`s wealthiest cities.

Where in the world is Laura . . . exactly?

It is 6pm on a Friday, and I am in the final stages of kicking jet lag, so rather than give details about what life is like here or what world-changing stuff I`m working on, it is easier to just throw a Google map up here to at least give you the where, and save the what, the why, and the how for later, especially because I am still figuring most of that out anyway, and will be for a while.  

Also, despite my best efforts, I haven`t acquired an adapter for my electronics, so I`m working on a laptop that appears to be set up for French, as the y and the z are reversed, along with a few other significant changes.  Which leaves me trzing to tzpe like this, and itàs driving me totallz crayz.   Absolutelz bonkers. 

So, anyway, back to where.   The Salesian school/residence and the IIMA office is located Veyrier, a small town/village outside Geneva, roughly 20-30 minutes by bus.  In practice, we`re closer to France than we are to Geneva, but it appears to stay pretty quiet over there.   The backdrop here at the office are these two pretty incredible mountains that the map tells me are in France.  They`re are probably small for Colorado or Nepal, perhaps, but for this Missouri girl, these are no molehills.   Waking up to snow-covered Alps every morning are just another aspect making this experience totally surreal. 

Then, I will be spending a good amount of time at the United Nations Human Rights building, which is a bus ride away. I just got my badge today, so I can get in with ease on Monday.  Again, surreal.  More on the actual work next week once that starts and the reality hits a little more soundly.  

You can't get away from rhythm: Pre-departure musings

Oh you can’t get away from rhythm.   You just can’t get away from it.   The left hand shakes with the right hand, the inhale follows the exhale and systole talks back to the diastole, the hands play patty-cake and the feet dance with each other.  And the seasons.  And the stars, and all of that.  And the tides, and all that junk.  You’ve got to live at peace with it, because if it’s going to worry you, you’ll lose.     It keeps on and on and on.  Hell, we’ll never get away from rhythm
                 Saul Bellow, Henderson the Rain King

Those of you who have been to DC any time in the past couple years probably remember that I had this quote  hanging above my bed (see right). It’s one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books.  The novel is about a middle aged man who goes to Africa with vague ambitions to find the meaning of life, and manages to, in my opinion, turn both Heart of Darkness and the “middle class white male who finds his life unsatisfying” genre on their respective heads. I recommend it for the story and language alike. 

I bring up because it’s another quote, like the one that provided the name for this blog, that presents an attitude I try to carry with me through life, and particularly when traveling.  During undergrad I shared it to help a friend who was adjusting to Uganda, telling her that the developing world has its own unique rhythm, that one absolutely has to learn to live at peace with, because if it worries you, you will absolutely lose. . . you will not change the ambient rhythm with your dischordant way of being, and you’ll possibly lose your own sense of order in the process. Rhythm is beautiful, if you’re in the right frame of mind to hear it

Whenever anyone asks about Cairo, I tell them that I loved it.  She was messy, chaotic, and challenging, but if you let her be whatever it is that she is (embracing her underlying rhythm of life), she will teach you each and every day. You could probably say the same for most cities.. 

Bringing it back to the present, I’m getting ready to pick up several new beats.  I’m off to Geneva, and then Juba.  Which means I have to adjust to two places, each with their own rhythms, and two different communities of Salesian sisters, both of which are a little more in tune with each other than with their host communities, but probably a few beats off nonetheless.

My goal for these months, then, is to embrace and adopt the new rhythms, not let them worry me, because the worrying and the losing will get in the way of what I am trying to do in these next few months. . . to serve, and to learn, and to grow.  I won’t have time to waste in either place, so my goal is to submit to the order and rhythm of things, resist the urge to push against it, and save my energy for fully embracing the experiences the next few months bring and being as useful as I can to the two communities and the work they do.

I’ve told many of my friends this, but there’s another reason why I’m looking forward to learning to play in tune with my new homes. . . I will probably feel differently about this in a few weeks, but towards the end of my time in DC, I got tired of and increasingly bad at the little choices you have to make to get through the day. . . what to get for lunch, which brand of rice to pick up from Safeway, whether to go home before I go to the gym, whether to go to the gym at all. I attribute it to my over-analytical tendencies gone awry, living on a tighter budget, and maybe one or two too many econ courses that had me thinking about maximum  utility for time and money.  Whatever the causes, it got exhausting, and made convent life in Texas for training a breath of fresh air.  Yes, at some point, I’ll want more of my autonomy back, but for a few months, freeing up my energy for more critical decisions, such as those I’ll need for my work in Geneva and the looming grad school decision, will be a blessing.  

Anyway, those are my pre-departure musings.  Now time to figure out how to pack for this. Eesh.

Laura

Return to the Continent. . .

After a 5-year hiatus, I am starting the blog up again, because my life is about to get a little bit less mundane, and a little more blog-worthy. I'm seizing a very unique window and going abroad again, this time to serve first, and learn second.   After 3 years in Washington DC, I am leaving for Geneva from January through July to serve for six months, three in Geneva, and an additional three in Juba, South Sudan, God willing.  After that, I plan to begin a full-time program in public policy in the fall. . . I've applied to a number of places, and will have to see how admissions and financial aid shakes out. 

DC was wonderful, but I am ready for a change of scene for a few years at least. I am taking the next several months to pursue something I've always wanted to: international service.  I spent most of high school and college dead-set on the Peace Corps, but when the time came after graduation, I wasn't quite ready to take that step. Now that I'm ready and able, I'll be volunteering instead with a small organization called VIDES (http://vides.us/) run by an order of Catholic nuns, called the Salesians who focus on tending to the young, especially young women,which is both important to me personally and smart international development.  In Geneva, I'll be supporting the work of the order's human rights office, advocating for the rights and protection of children and youth.  In Juba, it'll be a little more traditional service work.  The sisters are establishing a school there, so I'll have the opportunity to help with organizational work, as well as teaching English and computers. 

So far, the organization has been wonderful.  I trained with them for 2 weeks in Texas in January and am now fully formed and ready for anything.  VIDES provides logistical support, health insurance, room and board, while I am responsible for my flights and personal expenses.   I've done some fundraising, and will be relying on the savings I've built up, in part with this kind of experience in mind. 

I welcome your thoughts, comments and questions. For those of you who know me, I do want to express my gratitude to all of you.   These past few years have been really wonderful, and in spite of tough times, I've been continually surprised by the support, advice, and time that my friends and family continue to give, even when there's not a lot of time or energy to go around.   In a roundabout way, these next months are a way to give back a little and remind myself not to take anything for granted.

In peace,

Laura