A health and wealth gospel

I had an interesting conversation with the pastor of an Evangelical Covenant Church the other day, and one thing in particular that he said set me thinking. He said that his main point of contention with Evangelical churches is that they preach a "health and wealth" gospel, i.e. that well-being on earth is a blessing from God, which assumes that the poor are poor because they are out of favour with God. While my first reaction to that was "Oh, come on. That's not true," when I thought about it, I realised that a part of what he said might be true. (I don't live in a vacuum, so I realise that most people, at least in the West, equate this belief with evangelicals,[I think mistakenly] but what surprised me was that this was coming from a clergyman, a self-proclaimed evangelical himself, but one with a different world view).

The focus of most evangelicals is on what comes after this life. They see God as a God who bestows favour on those whom He loves, so they are not afraid to ask Him for health and wealth (with the caveat that they will not be consumed by their material possessions, but still give Him first place). I don't see this as necessarily translating into a belief that the poor have less of God's favour than the rich.

But, because of their focus on the world after this one, they see their mission here primarily as meeting people's spiritual needs, rather than physical ones. This is what people who are more inclined towards social justice have a problem with, as they see evangelicals seriously lacking in efforts to meet the needs of the poor and reaching out to those less fortunate.

As a Christian, I believe that my primary duty is to share Christ with those around me. But, having grown up in a developing country, I am also aware that, when people are working 16 hours a day or more for a pittance, sharing a tiny one-room hut with their wife, eight kids, parents and a brother or sister, they are not in a position to listen and accept that the most important thing they need to do is turn to Christ. Therefore, I am also aware that there are different ways to share Christ with others. For some, talking is the way. For others, reaching out in the name of Christ to fulfill their needs, and practically showing them His love, is the answer. This is even in the Bible: 1 John 3:17 says, "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?"

Those who approach people living in such abject poverty with nothing but the Gospel, powerful as it is, will only succeed in alientating them. To borrow from Maslow's hierarchy of needs, people cannot move to the psychological, emotional and spiritual fulfillment, unless their basic needs are met. People cannot be made to think about their spiritual well-being if their mere physical existence is a fight from one day to the next. There are people who turn to God because they have no other hope, and their live on earth is so bad that all they have to look forward to is their life after this one. But there are not very many of these people, and the way to reach most others who are in the depths of poverty is to help get them out of it first.

I don't think evangelicals don't care. I think that many of them, lacking exposure to the terrible conditions in poorer parts of the world, are unaware of how crippling, physically, emotionally and spiritually, poverty can be. But I also think that some are stepping out as leaders to tell the others that they need to look at their mission as showing bringing Christ to others in any way possible, even if that means not even mentioning him for the first six months.

Rick Warren, one of the most well-known American evangelicals, and author of best-seller The Purpose-Driven Life, is one of these. He wrote: "I deeply believe that if we as evangelicals remain silent and do not speak up in defense of the poor, we lose our credibility and our right to witness about God's love for the world," Warren wrote, adding that, "We all grieved when 250,000 lives were lost in the tsunami in Southeast Asia. But there is a health tsunami of that proportion in Africa every 12 days!"

Hats off to Caveboy and Gio!

I am, as I have been for the past few days, struggling through my journalism law exam, and thought I'd take a break by posting. It - the exam, I mean, not posting - has been, is and promises to continue to be, a painful experience.

I was one of the very few people here who could have actually not taken the class. International students are assigned to another class, titled "New York as a Foreign Country". But, after the first day in that class, I decided that it would just be a waste of two hours every Friday morning, and chose to take the law class instead. And the result of that. . . I'm sitting here slaving away on my law exam.

I think anyone who makes it through law school, and mountains of Opinions which sound more like Latin (to someone who doesn't know Latin, of course)deserves a medal, to say the least. So, hats off to Caveboy and Gio!

It's not that I really regret taking this class. It's actually quite interesting. But it's a lot to read, remember and regurgitate, and I've realised that my regurgitation skills went out the window when I was about 10 (for better or worse!). So, here I am, armed with my big book of Supreme Court opinions in most of the landmark journalism cases, the (very unclear) notes provided by the TA (whom a classmate of mine, a lawyer in a former life, dismissed as "only a second-year law student") and more thorough notes emailed by another classmate, who was also a lawyer in a former life (see a pattern here Caveboy Esq.?!?! :-P)

"It shouldn't take more than six hours," the same TA reassured us (or maybe it wasn't a reassurance?!?) It takes six hours to WRITE the thing. It takes another six hours to find the cases and the opinions and to connect them to the cases in the exam, and to come to sort sort of cohesive and coherent conclusion. It definitely does not take six hours - try 12.

It's due at midnight tonight - well, 11:59 p.m. to be precise - so adios amigos, as I return to Branzburg v. Hayes.

And in other news, I just got a grade in one of my classes that I still have to hand in a story for. Should I still turn it in? I'm tempted to just leave it and be done with it, but then, the grade can always mysteriously change, and we can't have that. . .

When I call on Jesus. . .

There are some days when molehills truly seem like mountains, and even the smallest of troubles seems completely insurmountable. I was having one of those days today, and no amount of stern talking to myself helped to make things any better. But in the midst of the tears, I realised that I had brought the situation on myself, if by nothing else, then by acting like I could do things on my own, without my Maker. And now, things had gotten to a point where I couldn't handle it, emotionally speaking, and I needed some serious rescuing. And I remembered a song by Christian singer Nicole C. Mullen, that I used to listen to in college, when I was feeling down and low, and how it used to put things in perspective, and help me realise how helpless I was without Him. And for the first time in a long time, I got down on my knees, and cried my eyes out to the only person who could really help.

And I sang along to the song, and a sort of peace descended on me, and I felt, after a very long time, that I was being cared for and loved in a way that I haven't bothered to acknowledge, and that, while I was searching for approval and fulfillment elsewhere, Christ has been patiently waiting for me to discover that His grace alone is sufficient for me.

Here are the inspired words that put things in perspective for me:

I'm so very ordinary
Nothing special on my own
I have never walked on water
I have never calmed a storm
Sometimes I'm hiding away from the madness around me
Like a child who's afraid of the dark

But when I call on Jesus
All things are possible
I can mount on wings like eagles and soar
When I call on Jesus
Mountains are gonna fall
'Cause He'll move heaven and earth
to come rescue me when I call

Weary brother
Broken daughter
Widowed, widowed lover
You're not alone
If you're tired and scared of the madness around you
If you can't find the strength to carry on

When you call on Jesus
All things are possible
You can mount on wings like eagles and soar
When you call on Jesus
Mountains are 'gonna fall
'Cause He'll move heaven and earth
to come and rescue you when you call

Call him in the mornin'
In the afternoon time
Late in the evenin'
He'll be there
When your heart is broken
And you feel discouraged
You can just remember that He said
He'll be there

When I call on Jesus
All things are possible
I can mount on wings like eagles and soar
When I call on Jesus
Mountains are gonna fall
'Cause He'll move heaven and earth
to come rescue me when I call

U.N. Human Rights Commission by December

Jan Eliasson, the president of the U.N. general assembly announced on Nov. 23 that the new Human Rights Commission will be formed by the end of the year, and will be ready to be functioning by the next Summit in September. Eliasson and the team that is working on hashing out the details of the new Human Rights Council expect to start meeting next week to negotiate the details of the new body, and expect these to be finalized by the end of the year.

But herein lies the problem. The U.N. General Assembly, when it had its Summit in September, was unable to agree on the council’s size and on the criteria for membership. These critical negotiations were left to a later date, and still have not been resolved. What’s more, even Mark Malloch Brown, chief of staff to U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan has warned that the design of a new council needs to be finalized by December if it is to be ready by Eliasson’s time line.

Despite Eliasson’s affirmations that this is possible, drawing up the details and achieving consensus are near impossible by the deadline he has set. Expectations for the new Human Rights Council are so different, based on whom they are coming from, that lengthy negotiations must be undertaken before the terms are agreed upon. John Bolton, the U.S. ambassador to the U.N. wants to replace the 53-member commission with a council with no more than 30 members. The members of the new Council should also have a solid human rights record, he has said.

Such a council faces opposition from several countries, particularly the human rights violators Bolton and Eliasson have made clear will not be welcome on the new Human Rights Council.

Yet Eliasson and his team believe that by December, they can draw up the details of the Human Rights Council and bring about consensus within U.N. members on these points. Whether it happens or not remains to be seen.

Random stuff!

Nothing much has been happening lately and I haven't had any lightning flash experiences, hence the lack of posts.

It's Thanksgiving break, and, while I had huge ambitions about finishing up all the work I'm behind on, predictably enough, that hasn't happened. I still have two more days left - well, a day and a half now - so hopefully something will get itself done in. My biggest accomplishment to date over Thanksgiving break was joining the ranks of quarter-century olds on Thursday :-) And I managed to get through the day (and the day after) without too much going wrong and without any reports of food poisoning in any of the 12 or so friends I decided to feed that day.


Ji Yeon, Nayma, Shahyar, Adnan, Tim

Me, Ji Yeon

Danny and Weds

Paola, Aiko, Sri, Seda

So that's that. Now I need to get back to my scholarship applications, and internship applications and fellowship applications and graduate program (ship?) applications, and catch up on weeks worth of journalism law readings.

Fun shtuff!

The Plamegate saga continues. . .

The Judith Miller/Valerie Plame saga is really turning into a circus now. Bob Woddward, of Watergate and Deep Throat fame, has now stepped into the ring, proclaiming that another "senior Administration official" had informed him of Plame's identify before Miller knew about it, i.e. before Scooter Libby told Miller about it. This certainly comes at an opportune time for Libby.

I am all for protecting anonymous sources, when necessary, but I think Judith Miller went a little too far - she was protecting someone who was extremely media savvy, who knew how to use and abuse the media, and who revealed to her information about someone out of a desire for revenge. Being an experienced reporter, Miller, in the first place, should not have promised anonymity to Libby, knowing full well his intentions for revealing Plame's identity to her. And even after having promised him anonymity, she should have made a much greater effort to convince him to release her from her promise to him. Instead, what does she do? She goes to jail, to make herself look like a martyr.

At first, when Woodward stepped into the picture, I was afraid that Miller's decision to remain mum about her source will look even more legitimate. But then, reading a bit more, it seems as if he's going to go down the same route as Miller. For one, it was his source, and not him, who went to Fitzgerald to tell him that the source had told Woodward about Plame even before Miller knew about it through Libby. I think it's pretty clear that, left to himself, Woodward would have continued his silence on this, and would have kept insisting that there was nothing significant about this entire episode.

Woodward is coming under increasing fire for remaining mum throughout all the hoopla about Miller's anonymous source. Despite his almost untouchability, thanks to his role in breaking Watergate, the fact that he kept quiet all this time about who leaked Plame's name, makes him, and by default, the Washington Post, look very bad. He has apologised for not coming forward earlier, but is it too late?

Miller has already left the New York Times, where she was becoming a liability, but with a hefty book deal under her belt, I'm sure. But things just seem to be getting worse. And Woodward, like Miller, certainly considered himself above it all. Miller found out that she wasn't - and possibly still came out the winner. Will Woodward go the same way?
More on this

Why do people boycott elections?

Sri Lanka held its presidential election yesterday, and only 0.014% of Tamils in Jaffna, the capital of northern Sri Lanka, voted, according to the BBC. This figure was typical of Tamil turnout in most other places in the north and east, which are dominated by Tamils. This is compared to 19% of voters who turned out in the 1999 elections, which, while appalling, seems to be a gold mine compared to the turn out this year.

Tamils are disillusioned by both current Prime Minister Mahinde Rajapakshe, and former Prime Minister Ranil Wickremasinghe, who was replaced by his rival. But there is some slight support for Ranil from Tamils, who seemed keen to work out a peace agreement between the government and the Tamil Tigers when he was Prime Minister. Apparently, though, this little support is not enough for them to come out and vote for him, which means that it is now likely that Rajapakshe, with the support of Singhalese nationalists and Buddhist monks - who are vehemently against the Government coming to any agreement with the Tigers - will probably win.

Why do these people do this? There was a similar situation in Iraq when Sunnis boycotted the elections, and then realised their mistake when they had such little voice in the creation of the Constitution. People need to realise that boycotting elections is not the way to make their voices heard. In fact, it accomplishes the opposite - it takes away what small voice they have and leaves them without even the little power they had before.

If Rajapakshe comes into power, the fact that he has the blessings of Sinhala nationalists speaks volumes about the kind of president he will be. With Wickramasinghe, even if he doesn't accomplish much, at least he won't be in the pockets of the monks and nationalists as much as Rajapakshe.

In this case, it is a matter of choosing the lesser of the two evils. But, by boycotting the election, the Tamil people have relinquished the power to put into power the person who will do the most for them - or at least, the person who will do them the least harm. They have sealed their fate, and by their inaction, will probably put into power the greater of the two evils.

In pursuit of a crime. . .

Nev pointed out to me that my last post might be somewhat premature. And I guess he's right, given that I only met the guy for three minutes as I was rushing out the door, and given that I might never hear from him. But, oh well.

On a different note, I finally managed to retrieve some of my clips (for those who don't know my portfolio saga, I lost my portfolio with all my clips in London - I think it was a ploy by my former employers to engage me in bonded labour for the rest of my life, because I left it at work, and it disappeared). But anyway, thanks to the wonders of technology, I have managed to download most of them again. So now, I can prove that I really did work for a daily newspaper, because I've got stories with my byline on them on Lexis Nexis to prove it.

And on a third note, sometimes I get really fed up with people in New York, especially the ones that answer the phones in most places I call for stories, because most of them are unbelievably rude and go out of their way to be unhelpful. But I've been shown that there are some good people in this city that I'm not too fond of.

I've been working, or trying to work, on a story on crime and its consequences. I even came up with a great story. A young guy was killed in a hit and run 20 years ago, and the guy who ran him over was just arrested last week. I saw this story in the New York Times and it quoted three people. I wanted to find these three people, and possibly others through them, to do extended interviews with them about how they were impacted by the crime, about the guy who did it not being arrested for 20 years, and how they feel now that he has been arrested. I looked high and low for them, called a bunch of people with the same names as them (none of which turned out to be the right people), called the DA's office, police precincts, the information department for the police and NYC, and came up with nothing.

In desperation, I emailed our dean of students, who is also a computer whiz to see if he knew how I could locate the right people. He put me in touch with another student here, who works at a newspaper, I think. And that guy, Dom, BLESS HIM, has managed to track down the numbers of all of them. He informed me that type of Lexis Nexis this oh-so-prestigious institution provides for us is not sufficient for finding people, and found the information for me from the version that his company uses. Which had me a little peeved, because the two entire days I spent trying to track these people down were a complete waste of time, since, if I were a real journalist, all I'd have had to do was perform a Lexis search. And I'm pretty sure Columbia has enough money to subscribe to the correct form of Lexis Nexis.

But anyway. At least, I've got their numbers,. Now, the problem is actually getting them to talk to me! Here we go!

Enter Reuters reporter Inihtar!

I tend to get quite obsessive at times. I pick something that I decide I want, and draw up strategies about how I can achieve the object of my obsession, and get very upset and tense when something seems to come in the way of achieving said obsession.

Well, my latest obsession is getting an internship - well, a job would be ideal, but beggars can't be choosers - at the AP or Reuters. So yesterday, I went to a panel discussion about AIDS at the Reuters office here. I actually didn't even realise I'd signed up to go to it until I got the email letting me know that I was One of the Chosen Ones and was really not in the mood for it - but seeing as I was One of the Chosen Ones, I couldn't very well not go!

So, cribbing and complaining to myself, I went. The panel itself was interesting, and quite enlightening, but since the discussion had started late, and I had to get to class afterwards, I left as soon as the Q&A session started.

As I was walking towards the elevators, I noticed a guy standing a few feet outside the room, listening to what was happening. Somehow, in the middle of me hurrying to the elevators, and him straining to hear what was happening inside, we managed to strike up a conversation. He was a reporter at Reuters. As soon as he said that, I decided class or no class, I was talking to him. He looked at my name tag and asked me what I did at Columbia. I told him I was a journalism student.

"Really?" he said. "I've been wanting to do my master's degree at Columbia. Maybe I should come up there and sit in on a class."

"Yeah," I said. "You definitely should. It's great, and the professors are great, they're very experienced, and they have great reputations!"

We chatted for a bit, and exchanged cards. And then, out of the blue, he said, "You should do an internship at Reuters!"

"I KNOW!!" I said. (This guy can read minds!!)

"Well," he continued. "This is how you get into it. By making contacts with people like me."

"Ok," I said. "I'm keeping in touch with you for sure then!"

And I intend to! So much so that he's going to regret having told me to do so!

So, I've got a new best friend who's a business reporters at Reuters, who's going to get me an internship there!

PS: Is it me or are most of my blog entries somewhat anticlimactic?

V-day!

Today is Nov. 8, Election Day, and a very biz bizy one for us aspiring journos. Well, for normal ones as well. I got up at the unholy hour of 5:15 a.m., and betook myself to the Bronx to stand at polling stations and intrude on people's privacy by asking them whom they voted for. That and a few other questions, but essentially that.

Apparently, everyone in the Bronx is voting for "Freddy" Ferrer for mayor, because he's Hispanic, and for no reason other than that. This bothers me slightly, because, apparently, from what I've heard, the guy is a bit of a wet mop personality-wise. But then a few of the more informed individuals I spoke with told me that he did a lot for the Bronx when he was Borough president. So, maybe there is a bit more to him than that. But, he certainly doesn't have the commanding presence - or the money - that Bloomberg has, so despite all the votes he amasses in the Bronx, he's not likely to win. And even those who voted for him conceded as much.

But it was an interesting experience, and certainly tougher than the work on the primary storyI did in Jamaica, Queens, mostly because everyone in Jamaica speaks English, and not many in the Bronx do. The area in Jamaica I covered for the primary was also mostly Guyanese, and since South Asians and Guyanese look somewhat similar, people felt some sort of kinship with me (the same kind that makes people in the Bronx vote for Freddy, I guess).

It was cold and exhausting, and not particularly fulfilling, but I guess it's part of the donkey work that makes up the J-school experience. The most disappointing part was that no one had a passionate hatred for Bloomberg, which might have made life a bit more exciting. Oh well. . .

But this was one of those one-person-does-the-reporting-and-someone-else-does-the-writing assignments, so I didn't have to bother with writing up a story from my skimpy notes, so I was grateful for that.

And by the way, our student work web site is functional as of today, and I've added a link to the left (Columbia Journalist), so check it out! I don't know if anything of my work will make it, but one can hope. . . But there's some pretty decent stuff on there, local of course.

More weds pics!

Nev told me that you can't tell from the pic of Weds that he's a baby, so here are a couple more pics. I need to stop this. I'm like one of those spinsters whose lives revolve around their cats! And he's not even my cat!!

Issues!

I just wanted to throw this out there - I have a 9:00 meeting with the executive director of an organisation that could potentially play a very key role in my master's project, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to ask him. And I'm going to bed now, so that situation is not going to be rectified.

And two, is it bad to quit a job that you were warned that you should perhaps not take on by the people offering it to you? Let me elaborate. I applied for a job on-campus, partly becuase it seemed like it would give me good contacts with working journos. During my second interview, my boss (boss-to-be at that time) told me that she had also gone to the J-school, and she knew the work pressures there and warned me that I might not be able to handle school and a job. I assured her that I would, and that I was keen to take on the job.

Now, the job is basically writing random press releases,and drafting memos, and I'm bored and tired of it and pretty much hate it. So I want to quit. My dilemna is that, if I quit, will I be in their bad books, because they warned me against taking it, and I still took it? But I'm not quitting because I can't handle it. I'm quitting because it's so mind-numbingly boring! What should I do? Maybe someone should just send them a link to this blog anonymously, and then I won't have to worry about quitting!

Farewell:-(

I hate goodbyes. Well, I guess there aren't many people who actually enjoy them. But, Emsten left today, to go back home to her sunny little island, and the apartment really feels empty. Today of all days, I had class all day, so I woke up early and made my specialty, aubergine (eggplant, brinjal, whatever!) curry, and had a last croissant and coffee with Emsten before rushing off to class.

Rushed back from class for lunch with Emsten, and Okia, who joined us, and little Wednesday, who, as usual, kept trying to eat us AND our food. I got Emsten her last black bubble tea from Cafe Swish where I took her about five or six times in her four weeks here, and we chatted about Emsten's little twin sisters, and this, that and the other. Rushed back to class after lunch, and rushed back home, with a few minutes to spare before the car came to pick her up and take her to the airport.

We chatted for a bit as Emsten, incredibly organised, had already finished packing (Me, I would have been stuffing things into my suitcase until the last minute, but she had everything perfectly folded and packed, and even a little rectangular space just the right size for her toiletries kit, which went in last). So we checked around for the last time, chatted a bit and took her stuff down. When the car came, we said goodbye, with promises to meet up again on her sunny island, and heartfelt wishes for her upcoming wedding(!!!) and she left. It seemed almost anti-climactic. Such a quick goodbye, to such a good friend.

When I came back to the apartment, it felt so empty. I'd gotten so used to it being the four of us in our apartment, and now it feels strange to have my room to myself again. We hardly even saw each other during the week, but just knowing that she was around, and a quick hi and bye as we dashed in and out of the apartment, still made it nice, more homey somehow. I wished I could have done more, hung out with her more, that we'd had more little chats, but both of us were busy and life has a habit of just taking over sometimes, and you end up doing what you have to do at that moment, not what's important in the larger scheme of things.

When I saw Okia later, she commented too that it felt strange not to have Emsten around. "I already miss her," she said. "Me too," I replied:-(

And Emsten gave me an early birthday gift that left me speechless - a nano!! I had been going on about how it would be so nice to have one for when I'm in the gym and just to listen to - but really, do you need an excuse to have an nano? - and the other day, we were downloading our favourite songs onto my comptuer and listening to them, and reminiscing. . . and the next thing I know, the woman goes and gets me a nano!!

But that's Emsten! Emsten, if you read this, I hope you had a safe flight, and are back safe and happy, and are blissfully planning your wedding. And tell your parents girl!

My first digi cam pics!

My brand new digi cam (not the best but second best, which I can live with :-)) has arrived, and here are some of the inaugural pics. These ones are of my friend Emstenm my roommate Okia and little Wednoo. More pics to come :-)


Wednesday

My roommate Okia and Emsten at Jackson Diner, an Indian restaurant, in Jackson Heights, Queens

Emsten

Just looking at these pics and comparing them with the ones below made me realise how blessed I am. A true wake-up call.

Disturbing photos

I received a strong reprimand from Ficali the other day, because I had complained about her not updating her blog, and then I didn't update mine. "I've updated mine three times since then," she said. "And you haven't, even once."

In my defense, my mind has been churning out blog entries all week, but I just haven't been able to put get them down. For example, in my International Reporting class, we talked about disturbing pictures, and about whether they should be shown. Our professor showed us a few examples. I looked for some of them online, to see if I could put them on here, but these media people guard their pictures very closely. So, I will attempt to describe a few. There was the one of the US serviceman being dragged through the streets in Somalia, which was printed, and I think shown on TV as well, at the time. There was this one, of the charred bodies of two people (contractors, I think?) hanging from a bridge in Fallujah.

Another one was of the bodies of about eight to 10 Nepali civilian workers lined up face down on the ground in Fallujah; an Indian mother surrounded by her dead children, with her hands on her head, and raw emotion on her face, after the tsunami.


The picture to the left; another one of supporters of the African National Congress setting a man from the Inkatha Freedom Party in South Africa on fire; and the one below, among others.

We also saw one photo of a suicide, of a female refugee in a Srebrenica refugee camp.

I found the last one, which I've looked high and low for a picture of - and couldn't find- the most disturbing. The woman in the picture has hung herself in a forest, and it has been shot from her right. When you first look at the photo, all you see is a beautiful, almost wistful, picture of a woman, facing off to the right of the photo, in a wood, sounded by vivid green foliage. It looks like a calm and peaceful photo, and it isn't until you look at her legs that you realise that there is nothing under them, that they are dangling. And then you realise what the picture is really of. There is something so personal, and so sad about it, that it feels like a terrible invasion of privacy to look at it.

For the most part, I'm a firm believer in the media showing and telling things as they are. Not at all in sensationalism, but if there are terrible things going on somewhere, pictures reveal the true horror and the sufferings of the people, much more effectively than words can, no matter how descriptive. I don't think it's the role of the press to sanitise these horrors, and to protect their readers, from what others are going through. For example, the tsunami was so remote to people in the US, because most of them don't know anyone from that part of the world, and many haven't even heard of the countries affected. Showing a grieving mother surrounded by her dead children be it in India as a result of the tsunami, or in Beslan, after the horrific school massacre, puts a face on these otherwise faceless tragedies, and reveals to people the extent of their impact.

The photos of the aftermaths of bombings and such manmade horrors serve a similar purpose. They are snapshots of what has happened, and show people the degree of suffering and depravity in that action. It is reality, and it needs to be shown.

But the photo of the suicide does not serve this purpose. In suicide, one cannot point out exactly why it happened. Even if someone commits suicide every week at that refugee camp - and that would certainly be worth a story - there are almost certainly other factors involved as well. Otherwise, why would there be still others who find their lives worth living, at least enough to not kill themselves. There was something that this woman was feeling that pushed her to the edge in that situation, that someone else was not going through, that gave them the will to live. And the way the photo was shot, she could have been anyone - as easily a wealthy woman from the suburbs of Los Angeles as someone in the refugee camps of Srebrenica. It doesn't support the story, and that was why I thought it shouldn't have been used.

It was a very sober couple of hours, but it made us examine ourselves and our priorities - sensationalism, protecting our readers back home, or showing the truth.

58 comments?!?!

How oh how oh how does This fish get 58 comments on her blog posts, while I get 2? (Thank you faithful Ficali and Nayma!) Of course, I guess it might have something to do with the fact that her life - and by extension, her blog - is tremendously more interesting than mine. But still. It's very unfair! My blog can only be so exciting when I'm a dirt poor grad student with a very limited social life. Sigh:-(

And the latest in my very exciting life: my four boxes have FINALLY arrived from London after three months - and I'm thinking. . . why did I ship this stuff? I could have just saved myself the pain of it all, and given myself the perfect excuse to go shopping - courtesy of Access Group, of course! But no. . . I HAD to ship them. It was quite nice though to finally get my jar of Jaffna chili powder (Ficali, don't kill me, it's a small jar, and I bet you can't get JAFFNA chili powder in New York!) and my sweaters and winter coats (I've refused to get any warm clothes because I knew I had mine in my boxes which I firmly believed with all my heart I would be reunited with one day). So, that's the low down on my exhilarating life. Jeez. . . no wonder no one reads my blog!

Oh, and one more development: I've changed my blog design, in case you haven't noticed. This is the hip new version! Thoughts? Like it? Go back to the old one? Abandon the blog altogether?

Masters' woes!!

I really want to do my master's project on the UN - specifically on the Millennium Development Goals, and the impacts of the edits that John Bolton made to the outcome document draft a week before the summit. All the hullaballoo about his edits died down as soon as the Summit was done last month, and I want to know why, and what the document that was approved means for developing countries. BUT. . . apparently, master's projects on topics like this aren't done at the J-School. I can kind of see why. . . because unless I were to take a trip to Africa, the story would seriously lack a human element. But I want to do it!

Or barring that, my other option is to try to figure why the press is so credulous when it comes to covering the UN. Apparently, if you have a UN pass, you can walk around quite freely. So, why does the press not take advantage of this to do a little digging, to find out what is really going on there? The press seemed to wake up while covering the Oil-for-Food scandal, but everything seems to have died down again after that. But then, even this is a vague topic, not a story idea, since I'm not starting out with any sort of premise - I can't very well start off saying that the press is credulous, because then no press person will talk to me.

And barring that, I have another topic that I will definitely pursue, at some point. This is looking at church planters - people who leave their home churches, and go out to start up new churches, either in a different neighbourhood, or a different city, state or even country. This would look at the challenges they face, where their funding and other resources come from, why they do it, and what happens at the end of it. When I tell my professors about this topic, their faces light up. And I think it would be a great story. But, while I can do this story on my own at any time, doing the UN story requires credentials, and I can get a UN press pass as long as I'm at Columbia. Hence, I want to do the UN story.

What do I do??!?!?

Updates on employment and ye olde dig cam!

Well, as of now, I'm still gainfully employed, so hopefully that will last. And the dig cam that Nev has been so very nice to get me (as a GIFT, right, Nev??!?!) is making its way to me RIGHT NOW!!!

More to follow. . . and, FYI, the fewer comments I have, the less incentive I have to write (hint, hint for you people who say you read my blog, but leave no trail! Not that my blog gives you reason to wake up in the morning, but still. . . would be nice to hear your thoughts :-()

Sickie!

Heard of poetic justice? Well, it exists. Like when you call in sick to work two days in a row (that too when you only work two days a week) and then, the following week, you really do get sick. What to do then? Do you crawl in to work sniffling and sneezing, or do you pick up the phone and call again, hoping that they assume you are just some chronically ill wheeze? Or do you walk the eight blocks to work, sniffling and sneezing, and then return, having proved that you really are sick?

I chose the middle option, since I decided to get out of bed 10 minutes after I was supposed to have finished traversing the eight blocks (two of them avenue blocks, and frigging LONG!)

"Hi Evelyn," I said. "It's Inihtar."
Evelyn's good at curt responses over the phone.
"Hi," came the reply. "How are you?" but in a tone that really meant, "What is it now? What kind of lame excuse are you going to come up with for not coming to work today?"
"Ummm, not good. . . again."
Silence on the other end. What to do now? I decided to plunge ahead.
"I've had a cold and headache for the past couple of days," I told her hastily. "But I know that Leann wanted me to work on a piece today. So can I come in in the afternoon and work on it? Then I can get some sleep in the morning, and maybe feel better."
Did I really need to give her my symptoms, and my plan of action for getting rid of them? Didn't that make it sound more suspicious? You know, overcompensating. Why on earth do I feel so guilty, darnit? I AM sick. . . this time, anyway!
"Yeah, ok."
"Ok. See you then." And I hung up.
I should have just emailed her. But then, somehow, I felt that if I could drag myself to my computer, it would have made me seem well enough to go in to work. But then I had to drag myself to the computer to get her number anyway! Oh, the dilemnas of taking a sickie.
I'm going to go back to bed now, and my next post will state if I am still employed.

Nev's getting me a brand new dig cam!

So Nev was bragging to me the other day about his new digital camera, and about what a great deal he'd gotten on it. And my whiny if-he-can-have-it-why-can't-I self took over. "I want one too!!"
His reply: a self-satisfied "Heh heh heh!"
"Hey, get me one," I told him.
He stopped laughing. "What?"
"Yeah, get me one, and have them ship it to me. I'll pay you back," I told him.
Pause. "You're sure you'll pay me back?"
"Of course. I've LOTS of money!"
Nev knew that me having lots of money didn't equate to me being able to spend lots of money on expensive digital cameras.
"Yeah, but are you sure you can afford it?" he asked.
"Of course!" I answered cheerfully. "Access Group(the oh-so-naive people who are financing my oh-so-expensive education at this oh-so-prestigious institution) can afford it."
"You do realise that the money you have is a loan. Right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"And that you have to pay it back. Right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"You really are planning on skipping the country when you done, aren't you?"
"Heh heh!"
Nev gave up on trying to drill some sense into me. "Ok, so what kind do you want?"
"THE VERY BEST!!"
I was wrong. Nev wasn't done yet. "Why do you need the best? Why don't you get something cheaper?"
Why indeed? The wheels in my head started turning furiously as I tried to come up with a reason for why I needed the very best.
"Well, when I do freelance work, it would be better if I can send them some pictures that are of good quality, so they can do things with them." Never mind the fact that I haven't done one freelance piece since I came here, or even made an attempt to sell the pieces I have written for classes. Or that the places where I can probably freelance my work are piddly little local papers anyway that don't care too much about the quality of pictures. But my heart desired the best digital camera, and what Inihtar's heart desires, Inihtar's heart gets (not really, but it's a nice thought!)
So now, Nev is getting me a digital camera, and Access Group is going to pay for it. Good ol' Access Group!

NOTE: If the nice people of Access Group are reading this: I have no intention of moving to the Amazon Rainforest and not paying back my loan when I'm done here. So, please give me money for my second degree here when I'm done at the J-school, and I promise I'll marry a rich man who'll pay every penny back. Thank you!