Gompas, Tea, and Almost Tibet

Since arriving in Darjeeling three days ago, I have had a wonderful time. With my friend from Belgium, P.J., that I met on the train from Kolkata to Darjeeling, I hiked around the town, visited a gorgeous Buddhist monastery, toured the Happy Valley Tea Plantation, saw Snow Leopards and a Siberian Tiger in the zoo, sampled delicious Tibetan steamed momos and tea, and took in the peaceful beauty of this hill station. P.J. left yesterday to return to Kolkata where he will be working for an additional month. He was so sad to have to leave the cool weather an laid back vibe of Darjeeling for the heat, stench and filth of Kolkata.

After P.J. left, I wandered around town and discovered a beautiful old English hotel called the Windemere. It has been preserved down to the bedding and furnishings to what it was in the early 1900s at the height of the British presence in India. Stepping in to the hotel I felt as if I was stepping into another age. I had “high tea,” complete with tea, cucumber sandwiches, ginger cookies, and lemon cake in a room of dark wood furnishings, rich red brocaded curtains, and luxurious hand woven Tibetan carpets on the floor with a fire crackling in front of me. On the walls were black and white pictures of British visitors from the 1900s dressed in high-collared white lace dresses and hunting jackets and trousers tucked into knee high black leather boots. Everyone in the pictures, men, women, and children are wearing hats that make them look like they’re on safari, though it was probably just to protect them from the sun. Also on the walls are black and white photos of Tibetans in traditional dress and sherpas, many of whom befriended the British visitors. Along with the photos are framed hand written letters from all over the world dating back over 100 years ago from visitors to the hotel.

After high tea I walked up Observatory Hill and checked out an ancient Buddhist and Hindu shrine on top of a small hill. The hill was bedecked with thousands of prayer flags, so much so that from a distance the hilltop appeared a riotous mass of red, blue, yellow, and green. It was like Buddhist monks had TP-ed the trees, but not with toilet paper, and not with the intent of making an mischief, but instead with a thousand brightly colored prayers. Walking through the paths underneath the canopy of prayer flag covered trees, it felt like you were walking in another world somewhat reminiscent of Disney Land but with a beauty and serenity not found in the typical amusement park.

To cap off my day I decided to eat at a Tibetan restaurant and try the local food. Not to be swayed from my mission, I insisted on ordering Tibetan tea despite the fact that the hostess told me I wouldn’t like it. Tibetan tea is basically heated butter with salt. I got the steaming cup, tried one sip, and promptly decided that the hostess was correct. Luckily it was only 25 cents for a cup. I also tried their steamed momos, which are basically dumplings (like dim sum), and a Tibetan vegetable soup. The momos were good but not as good as the momos that P.J. and I had at the “Hot Stimulating Cafe” on the way to the zoo, and the soup was tasty. Unfortunately, towards the end of my meal I saw a cock roach on the table which soured the dining experience somewhat.

A half hour later things got worse because I started to feel ill. I had been in India for almost 2 weeks without any stomach issues so it was bound to happen. I don’t think it was the Tibetan food. Instead, I think it was the soup that the nice woman just outside of the Happy Valley Tea Estate made for P.J. and me. The woman was very sweet, but she wasn’t living under the most hygienic conditions, and fairly certain she didn’t use pure drinking water to make our soup. But she was so hospitable and sweet and she boiled the water so P.J. and I had decided to risk it. Bad move. I won’t be accepting any soup from women in little huts in the future. Luckily the bout of illness lasted only about 2 hours. It meant I had to stay in my room – mercifully close to the toilet – and had to forego meeting up with some other friends at the local bar, The Buzz. However, it was good because it gave me some time to read (in between trips to the loo) and resulted in me going to bed early. I just picked up “The Power of Now,” another book in the vein of “The Alchemist,” and “The Four Agreements,” aimed at discovering the inner peace that resides in all of us. It’s pretty cool so far, and keeping me on track in terms of my inner journey.

This morning, I had breakfast at a cute little cafe called “Sonam’s Kitchen.” The cafe seats about 8 and is run by an adorable, hip Tibetan woman. She makes terrific coffee (nice and dark) and a sublime porridge, otherwise known as oatmeal, with bananas and nuts. I haven’t yet discovered exactly how she makes the porridge but I know for sure that she flavors it with cloves and cardamom. It’s absolutely delicious.

For my last day in Darjeeling I’m planning to hike around the area visiting all of the major Buddhist gompas (temples) and monasteries. It’s very funny to me that after months of trying to decide whether I should visit India or Tibet I decided on Indian only to find myself drawn to the “little Tibets” (such as parts of Darjeeling) in India. So as not to miss India, I’m going to make sure to visit the Taj Mahal in Agra, and may go through Rajasthan (I keep going back and forth on that because it’s so freakin‘ hot) on my way to Mumbai (and my flight home). But, what I’m really excited about is my time in Darjeeling and my upcoming trip to Dharamsala, the official “Little Tibet.”

On another note, I’ve met several travelers who quit their jobs to travel around indefinitely. Many are hippies, but some are quite normal, fascinating people such as the couple from Oklahoma that I met yesterday. They quit their jobs in 2004 and travelled for two years, then went back to the States to work for 9 months in order to earn enough money to travel again. They’ve been travelling for a few months and plan to travel until their money runs out. Listening to their story I was pretty much green with envy. I want to do that. I want to spend a year of my life travelling and being absolutely free! What I’m doing right now, travelling for a month, is wonderful, but can you imagine traveling indefinitely??? I just think that would be unbelievably awesome. To be free, to see the world, to meet people from all over… how awesome would that be?

Wilting, But Happy, Flower

As you may have noticed, I’ve been having some trouble posting on a daily basis. It’s a combination of being really busy each day with my volunteer work, a paucity of internet stations near my hotel, a malfunctioning internet connection at my organization’s office, and the fact that I’m super exhausted each day by about 8:00 pm because of this infernal heat. It is freakin‘ hot in Kolkata people. H-O-T and H-U-M-I-D. By 2:00 pm I feel like a wilted flower. By 4:00 pm, I’m ready to fall down. I’ve noticed that if I take an afternoon rest and wait to go back outside until about 5:00 pm, then I feel much better. The evenings are nice.

* * *

We interrupt our regularly scheduled program for a public service announcement: HOLY CRAP, the fattest, most disgusting looking rat I’ve ever seen just waddled past the glass wall of this internet cafe, just four feet from my unprotected toes. I feel like vomiting! I looked at it in horror and then caught the eye of the guy monitoring the computers. He grimaced back at me in understanding. That rat could have seriously taken most of the rats that I’ve seen in the NY city subways. Dang.

* * *

In the last few days I’ve largely overcome my initial culture shock an I’ve gotten somewhat used to the stares of the people on the street. I love my volunteer position. The people at my organization could not be more welcoming, warm, or hospitable. They have been generous with their time and knowledge and already I have learned so much from them. My favorite part of this week has been working with the adolescent girls over in one of the red light districts. Some of the girls have mothers whom are prostitutes, and others just come from very poor socio-economic backgrounds. One of the girls, Neine, was rescued recently from a brothel.

The girls are so wonderful!! They’re warm, full of energy, and so much fun to spend time with. The other day, I lead a discussion with them about international human rights norms and the reality of their lives. They were so smart, introspective, and insightful. When the issue of prostitution was raised, they talked of the stigma that makes it difficult for women to leave the red light areas and find other work. They talked of disliking the profession but not the women who are in it. Some of them felt that women had a choice as to whether or not to enter prostitution, but others – those with mothers working as prostitutes – felt that they did not. One after another they recounted stories of girl children not getting enough food, not getting an education, of mothers being beaten, of police doing nothing. In between talking, they showed me Bollywood dances, begged m to sing them songs, and tried to teach me snippets of Hindi and Bengali. They quiz me each time they see me. They’re amazing. They’re yet another example of how just a small amount of attention and care can go so far with a child.

In between the volunteer work, I’ve seen many sides of Kolkata. I’ve been to a Bollywood movie, “Namaste London,” saw “The Namesake” at a fancy mulitplex cinema in the middle of a typical Western-style glass-encased mall (that gave me reverse culture shock), gone to dinners at some fantastic restaurants, bought some beautiful cloth at a market, and gone to one of my new friend’s tailors to have some Indian-style tops made. When in Rome…

A word about the food: It was funny because before leaving for India, my mother, in a moment of worry started telling me about some friends of hers who had gone to India and lost 25 lbs. Apparently the food did not agree with them. I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen to me because I like Indian food and eat it regularly back home. Since being here, I’ve been really careful in terms of not eating off the street (except with my Kolkatan friends who know the good vendors), have been avoiding fruits and veggies that might possibly have been washed in bad water, and have been having a ton of absolutely delicious Bengali food. It is so good!! The result of all of this is that I’ve eaten a lot of paneer butter masala and naan – which I’ve been enjoying thoroughly – and hardly any healthy things. I have yet (knock on wood) to get any “Delhi Belly” and I think I’ve gained at least 5 lbs!! And, I’ve only been here 8 days! I’m going to have to hit the gym hard core when I get back to NYC. The point of all of this (Mom, if you’re reading), is that my mom had nothing to worry about with respect to me potentially wasting away. I’m getting downright curvascious.

I’m planning to be in Kolkata through Friday, and am trying to arrange to take a night train (AC 2nd Class) to Darjleeng. After Darjleeng, my rough route is: Dehli, Dharmsala, McLeod Ganj, Shimla… I was planning to pop by Rajasthan but I’ve heard that it’s 50 degree Celsius. As I’m basically wilting here in Kolkata in the 40 degree Celsius temperatures, I’m rethinking that leg of the journey. At some point I hope to wind up in an Ashram but haven’t planned that out yet, again because I’ve been so busy.

I’ve been reading “Eat, Pray, Love,” and so far I love it! I highly recommend it.

Space Making

I’m down to 31 hours before my plane leaves for Bombay and I’m in the final stretch of trip preparations. I’ve been busier the past few days packing and buying supplies than I was during my last few weeks of work! I was up until 5 am last night organizing, making to-do lists, and revamping my ipod selections. It’s funny how staying up until 5 am for fun things is totally doable, whereas being stuck in the office until a similar time would be torture.

Other than getting soaked to the skin multiple times from the torrential downpours flooding New York, my trip preparations have been going pretty well. I’ve been downtown to EMS at least three times, first to buy my back pack and hiking shoes, then to return my hiking shoes, then to retrieve the credit card that the girl forgot to return to me at the end of my shoe transaction. At first I was annoyed that I had to go all the way back downtown, especially since I ended up wet, chilly, soaked to the skin, and feeling like a drowned rat. However, it turned out to be a great thing because the whole experience prompted me to invest in rain gear and a micro fleece for my trip. Bravo! If I hadn’t forgotten my card I would have been woefully unprepared for the potentially wet, chilly evenings I may experience in the mountains up around Dharmashala.

Things still on my To Do List include:

(1) Get traveler’s checks;
(2) Laundry;
(3) Get the last of my immunization shots;
(4) Buy a new journal;
(5) Mail things in the post office;
(6) Go to Duane Reade to pick up my immunization shots, medicine, and a travel alarm clock;
(7) Get legs and bikini wax;
(8) Get a massage and facial (Yay! Thanks Mom for the gift certificate!!);
(9) Finish packing;
(10) Make reservation for airport hotel in Bombay (for 5 hours since I’ll be going on to Kolkata in the early morning);
(11) Call everyone I’ve been meaning to the last few days.

I was going to do a post listing every item I’m bringing with me on my trip, but at this point I’m not sure I’ll have enough time to do it. Even though I’m attempting to pack light, there are so many things I’m bringing!! I’m going to try to be all packed by this evening and if I have to jettison some stuff, so be it.

By the way, I’ve been trying to think of the word “jettison” for the last 5 months, because that’s what it has felt like I’ve been doing, working on jettisoning the jetsam in my life. Or, as my astrologist would say, “pruning” the unwanted elements out of my life. Others would say “letting go.” Same concept. Suddenly, yesterday afternoon the word came to me. It is defined as follows: To cast overboard or off: a ship jettisoning wastes; a pilot jettisoning aircraft fuel.
Informal. To discard (something) as unwanted or burdensome.

Focusing on jettisoning the junk has been one half of the theme that has been dominating my life since November. The other half of the theme has been all about being open to receive positivity and love in my life. I know I have mentioned this before, but I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the changes that have occurred in my life during the last few months. In so many ways I am so different from the girl I was in November, the major difference being that I feel whole. Before, when I had all of those stresses ripping into my stomach, I felt emotionally shredded on a regular basis. To go from that to feeling a sense of well being along with hope, joy, and excitement for the future is awesome.

As I also mentioned, I’ve been reading a lot about this general theme of achieving personal happiness and/or freedom. The basic concept is all about pursuing what you believe in, making your life into the one that you want, and freeing yourself from negative distractions that get in the way of you fulfilling your destiny, your dream, your personal path, your ability to attain a state of bliss. If anyone is interested in checking out some good books on the subject I would suggest: The Alchemist, The Secret, and The Four Agreements.

I just finished the Four Agreements and felt like the whole book was speaking my present personal truth. A Mayan man named Pablo who teaches scuba diving on Isla Mujeres in Mexico, and who one day bought be a glass of wine while I was watching the sunset, recommended this book. It offered suggestions and perspectives on the very issues that I’ve been thinking about, and its messages resonated with me. The basic premise of the Four Agreements is that in order to achieve personal freedom, and to let go of the negative distractions that have stood in the way of the attainment of your personal freedom/bliss, you should make the following four agreements with yourself:

(1) Be impeccable with your word. “Being impeccable with your word is not using your word against yourself…[It] is the correct use of your energy; it means to use your energy in the direction of truth and love for yourself [and it will] clean all the emotional poison that exists within you.”

I’m still trying to fully understand this lesson. An example of this lesson includes not gossiping (i.e. not spreading emotional poison), but instead using your word to spread positivity and love. The idea being that if you do this, it will bounce back on you as well because you will not be giving any cause to anyone else to have emotional poison against you. I think of myself as a fairly sweet, loving person but it’s hard not to spread emotional poison. Sometimes being negative and cynical is highly amusing. For now, what I’ve taken from this is to try to be honest with myself, and to try to speak and act in accordance with my personal truth. It’s a challenge but I think it’s a worthy goal.

(2) Don’t take anything personally – “Nothing other people do is because of you. It is about themselves. All people live in their own dream, in their own mind; they are in a completely different world from the one we live in. When we take something personally, we make the assumption that they know what is in our world, and we try to impose our world on their world.”

This is a lesson that first came up in therapy for me. I tend to be sensitive and to take the actions and words of the people close to me personally, especially when my emotional reserves are weakened. I’ve been working on not taking things personally and this chapter was revelatory to me. It makes perfect sense and it goes along with the idea that the only person you can control is you. If others treat you poorly, you shouldn’t take it personally, because it’s not about you being bad or deficient in any way, it’s about their stuff. Instead of taking it personally and allowing yourself to feel bad about it, see it for what it is – their stuff – and then do what you need to do to remove the negativity.

According to the book, “When we really see people as they are without taking it personally, we can never be hurt by what they say or do…If someone is not treating you with love and respect, it is a gift if they walk away from you.” Of course I read this and thought of EXBF, and tried to view his walking away as a gift to me. In my heart I know that it was a gift of sorts because I’m so much happier now than I was in that relationship. However, I still feel twinges of pain now and then. I haven’t fully let go of the emotions tied to that relationship, and I haven’t fully let go of the hurt I felt as a result of how he treated me. I know that in essence I did take his treatment of me personally, and I was very hurt by him. I’ve struggled with the idea that no one can make you feel hurt, you allow yourself to feel hurt. Half of me believes it, half of me doesn’t. My opinion on this at the moment is that the second, third, and fourth times someone hurts you, you are “allowing them to hurt you,” but the first time? I guess if you were totally zenned out and someone did something horrible to you for the first time, you could not take it personally, understand it was all about them and not you, and not feel pain. But, I have a long way to go before I reach that level. I’m working on it though.

(3) Don’t make assumptions. “All the sadness and drama you have lived in your life was rooted in making assumptions and taking things personally…The way to keep yourself from making assumptions is to ask questions. Make sure the communication is clear. If you don’t understand, ask….The day you stop making assumptions you will communicate cleanly and clearly, free from emotional poison.”

This is another great one, and a classic thing that I do that I know I shouldn’t do. But it’s so hard not to!! It takes courage to ask questions, and I’m trying to do that more, as opposed to jumping to conclusions. It’s particularly tricky in the context of dating, because you have to go into it with a level of faith and trust and repress the urge to make assumptions. I consider myself quite smart so it almost seems counter intuitive sometimes to try to force myself to doubt what I believe to be true about someone, based on my experience. However, smart as I may be, I’m not in another person’s skin and I appreciate that I can’t truly understand someone else unless I ask them and allow them to tell me. I’m working on this too.

(4) Always do your best. Do your best to be impeccable with your word, not to take anything personally, and not to make assumptions. “Just do your best – in any circumstance in your life. It doesn’t matter if you are sick or tired, if you always do your best there is no way you can judge yourself. And if you don’t judge yourself there is no way you are going to suffer from guilt, blame, and self-punishment.”

This is a beautiful lesson because it’s all about silencing the inner Judge that we all have inside of us. If you make an agreement with yourself to do your best, the best that you are able to do under any given circumstance, and if you honor that agreement, then there will be nothing to beat yourself up about. I also like this lesson because it recognizes that Agreement 1-3 are very challenging, and it gives you space to not be perfect. As long as you are doing your best to be impeccable with your word, to not take things personally, and to not make assumptions, then you should be proud of yourself.

This was a much longer post than I had intended and my To Do List is calling me. Go out and pick up the Four Agreements and have a wonderful Monday!

Personal Legend

I recently started reading The Alchemist, a book that teaches that each one of us has our own Personal Legend that it is our destiny to fulfill. The book tells the story of a young shepherd who is visited by a King who tells him this secret and inspires him to leave his sheep and set out for the Pyramids of Egypt in search of his Personal Legend. The King tells the shepherd that when we pursue our Personal Legend all of the universe conspires to help us achieve it. I love the idea of the whole universe conspiring to help us along our destined path.

At one point in the story, the shepherd appears to have fallen off course from pursuing his Personal Legend. Immediately after arriving in Africa, after a two-hour journey from his home in Andalusia, the shepherd is robbed of all his money and then learns that though he has reached Africa he still must cross an entire desert to reach Egypt. Having no money to buy his passage back home, the shepherd gets a job working for a crystal merchant. He works hard and saves his money, but is told that even if he worked for years he would still not have enough money to get to Egypt. With his dream seeming so far off in the distance, the shepherd begins focusing on a different goal, to return to his homeland a successful man with money enough to buy double the amount of sheep he once owned.

After a year, the shepherd is ready to leave the crystal merchant’s shop, and he’s about to start his journey back home when he thinks to himself that he could always go back to being a shepherd, but he might never have another chance to get to the Pyramids of Egypt. Thinking about how far away he still is from the Pyramids of Egypt, the shepherd realizes “that there was another way to regard his situation: he was actually two hours closer to his treasure . . . the fact that the two hours had stretched into an entire year didn’t matter.”

This is certainly an appropriate time for me to be reading this book. I don’t know if I’m pursuing my Personal Legend by leaving my job, and I worry that the direction I’m going – to another firm – might be a detour off of the path that I’m “supposed” to be taking. I’m afraid that like the shepherd in his time of uncertainty I might have got thrown off course. But another message of the book seems to be that even detours and obstacles may bring you closer to your Personal Legend. The author writes that whatever detours and adjustments the caravan moving through the desert makes – a metaphor for one’s search for his or her Personal Legend – it continues to move to the same compass point. Meaning that whatever directions we take in our life – even a seeming detour – our life’s path will ultimately still take us towards the fulfillment of our Personal Legend.

Right now, I feel a little like the shepherd after his year of working for the crystal merchant. He worked for the crystal shop for a year and I’ve worked for my firm for two and a half years. All though all of that time has passed, I’ve travelled only a small distance. I’m still far away from attaining my Personal Legend. On the other hand, though I’m still far away, I would like to believe that I’m at least a little bit closer.

Oh Bollox, It’s Monday Again

I was having such a pleasant weekend. Even though I was sick! I rearranged my bedroom, cleaned the bathroom tiles, listened to music, did laundry, napped, rested, rested, and rested, watched SATC reruns on HBO, and read my book. All in all, I did an excellent job of listening to myself and was feeling much better by yesterday afternoon. Go me!

I was feeling so much better that I decided I was up for going to my book club meeting and then meeting a friend of Em’s for dinner/drinks. The book club meeting was great. We discussed “Everything is Illuminated,” over tea in a cafe on the Upper West Side that John Lennon used to frequent. More on the book later, but for now put it on your reading lists if you haven’t already read it. It’s worth it.

Then I met Em’s friend at another nearby cafe for dinner (salmon-avocado salad, a glass of white wine, and a shared chocolate dessert). Em’s friend is a very tall (6′5″), smart (also a lawyer), sweet guy of North-Indian descent. We had such a nice time that I agreed to go for a drink after dinner to a nearby bar, the Shalel Lounge. The lounge has a very cool subterranean feel and is accented with attractive Moroccan inspired decorations like hanging lamps and cushions. It was super-cute. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to have a Jack and Ginger (or so my glands are telling me this morning), but at the time that’s what myself was telling me to do. I listened, what can I say?

So, now it’s Monday again. I feel as if I’m off to the Executioner’s block. Again.

Update: I just read Go Fug Yourself and Popsugar and feel considerably better. I’m now ready to face the day. Thank god for meaningless celebrity gossip. I don’t think I could get through the work-day without it.

Male Monsters, Polygamy, and Inequality

Below are my impressions of the last three books that I read. In writing out my thoughts, I realized that all of the books have a connection to feminism, though in the case of Frankenstein the feminist connection is through the author and less so through her novel. In all of the books women are murdered by males, and in two of the books, polygamy and its use in the subordination of young girls and women is explored to varying degrees. I highly recommend Under the Banner of Heaven and Princess.

Under The Banner Of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, by Jon Krakauer: I’m a huge fan of Jon Krakauer and years ago devoured Into the Wild and Into Thin Air, both powerful, gripping books. In Under The Banner of Heaven, Krakauer takes a different path and explores the relatively recent foundations of the Mormon religion and the roots and present-day practice of polygamy through an examination of the murders of a mother and her child by her Mormon fundamentalist brothers-in-law, the Lafferty brothers.

Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, allegedly received the infamous “Celestial Marriage” (aka polygamy) revelation from God on or about July 12, 1843. God allegedly instructed Joseph that: “If any man espouse a virgin, and desire to espouse another…, then he is justified; he cannot commit adultery for they are given unto him… And if he have ten virgins given unto him by this law, he cannot commit adultery, for they belong to him, and they are given unto him; therefore he is justified… But if one or either of the ten virgins, after she is espoused, shall be with another man, she has committed adultery, and shall be destroyed; for they are given unto him to multiply and replenish the earth, according to this commandment.” (Under The Banner of Heaven, p. 127).

How singularly convenient for men and inconvenient for women! The back story on Joseph is that by the time he disclosed this divine “revelation” he was married, having affairs with multiple women, and his wife, Emma, was growing increasingly enraged with his infidelity. Krakauer writes, “Emma harangued Joseph so relentlessly about his philandering that the original intent of the revelation canonized as Section 132 seems to have been simply to persuade Emma to shut up and accept plural wives – while at the same time compelling her to refrain from indulging in any extracurricular sex herself.” (Under the Banner of Heaven, p. 126).

I give Joseph props for coming up with such an outrageous justification for his infidelity, but I’m appalled that his followers decided to believe in the divinity of his twisted rationalization. Of course, it was in the interests of Joseph’s male followers to believe in the revelation because like Joseph they stood to profit mightily from a male-dominated system of polygamy. For some time, Joseph and the leaders of the Mormons kept the revelation and the practice of polygamy a secret from the rest of their followers. The disclosure of the revelation ultimately lead to a schism between what is today the modern Church of Latter Day Saints (“LDS”), who publicly denounces polygamy, and the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints (“FLDS”) who continue to practice polygamy openly in towns throughout the Midwest and in Canada and Mexico.

I was most disturbed by Krakauer’s accounts of the present day practice of polygamy – a practice that is marred by, in addition to severe gender inequality, incest, child abuse, and pedophilia. Krakauer repeatedly described instances of young girls as young as 12 and 14 ordered to become the plural wives of men old enough to be their grandfathers. He described accounts of fathers and other relatives raping their daughters and committing other types of physical abuse. The young girls who grow up within the FLDS are taught that the way to attain salvation is to practice polygamy; to them, the choice presented, if any, is the choice between hell or plural marriage. It seems understandable, given those choices, and the fact of women’s inequality within the FLDS, that young girls and women continue to participate in polygamy.

So horrible are the accounts that I found myself wondering why I hadn’t heard of an outcry against the present-day practice of polygamy. Why aren’t feminist organizations in Utah staging rescue operations in polygamous communities like they do in the brothels of Cambodia, or reaching out to the media to drum up awareness about the human rights violations being perpetrated against young girls in the name of fundamentalist Mormonism? Everyone should read this book and then try to figure out how to help the girls and women of the FLDS.

Princess: A True Story of Life Behind The Veil in Saudi Arabia, by Jean Sasson: My brother Bacchus gets credit for recommending this book to me, and I in turn want to recommend it to all of you. The book is a fascinating, appalling, and deeply disturbing look at the life of one of the many princesses of Saudi Arabia (her real name is kept confidential for obvious reasons). Through her story, we get a glimpse of the life of seclusion and subordination even the wealthiest and most privileged women in Saudi Arabia must lead.

For me, the book was incredibly eye-opening. I had not had any idea of the level of gender inequality in Saudi Arabia, and was also unaware of the political and social structure within the country in which a ruling class of thousands of princes and princesses live off of the proceeds of oil money. I had not realized that Saudi men take on plural wives, and had never read about the practice of bringing over domestic servants from countries such as the Philippines to serve not only as servants, but as the sexual playthings of young Saudi men. The level of inequality that women face in Saudi Arabia is breathtaking. They observe purdah (or seclusion) strictly and must be veiled completely before going out of their homes, are not allowed to speak with men unrelated to them, are forced into arranged marriages with older and sometimes abusive men, and are subjected to harsh and often-times fatal punishment for even the appearance of bringing dishonor upon their families.

In an interesting section, the author talks about the hopes held by some Saudi women at the start of the first Gulf War – when they saw female American soldiers in positions of power and other Arab women doing things, such as driving vehicles, prohibited under Saudi law – that the restrictions upon them might be relaxed. However, their hopes never materialized and according to this book women in Saudi Arabia continue to live today under the same system of oppression described so vividly in Princess.

It makes me sick that this level of gender inequality is allowed to persist in the world, let alone that the perpetrator is an ally of the United States. Women in Saudi Arabia are subordinated and disempowered, yet the media makes almost no mention of that reality, and GW, in the pictures that have been circulated of him shaking hands with and embracing male Saudi Royals, seems completely unconcerned about the status of Saudi women. As long as the U.S. has its access to oil, the lives, deaths, and disempowerment of women are apparently politically inconsequential.

The world needs to wake up and realize that the rights of women are human rights. As my young female clients so often plaintively point out, women and girls are human beings, and they deserve equal rights. Governments that deprive women of equal rights should be treated as violators of human rights and sanctioned accordingly. They should not be allowed to prance around as best buddies of the United States President. No price, however high, should justify the subordination of an entire group of people.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: I’m one of those kids who in school was too busy reading all of my books to be bothered with the assigned reading of English class. I was able to get “A”s on my papers based on class discussion and skimming the books, so for the longest time I was completely unconcerned about the books that I hadn’t read. Now, however, I see the gaps in my education that skimming those classics produced, and I’m going back to fill in the holes left by my younger self.

One of those classics that had been on my list for some time was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. I had been particularly interested in Frankenstein because of the author’s identity. Mary Shelley was the daughter of an early feminist theorist, Mary Wollstonecraft, the author of A Vindication of the Rights of Women.

Shelley’s novel tells the story of Dr. Frankenstein’s efforts to create life, and the well-known horrible consequences that occur upon his success. The creature Frankenstein causes to come to life is hideous in appearance, but gentle and “good” at the time of his creation. Scorned by Frankenstein and other humans he seeks to befriend, and grappling with loneliness and the fear and hatred his appearance generates in the hearts of those that behold him, the creature’s nature turns vengeful. When Frankenstein refuses to create a female version to assuage his loneliness, the monster turns on his creator and vows to destroy Dr. Frankenstein’s happiness, just as Dr. Frankenstein has destroyed any chances for the creature to find happiness.

I enjoyed the novel because it clarified details of the story of which I had been unaware. I found the creature to be sympathetic, and Dr. Frankenstein to be almost wholly unsympathetic. Dr. Frankenstein attempted to play God, and when he realized he had created something monstrous in appearance, he turned on his creation. As a result of his failings, his creation was irrevocably poisoned against him and against humanity. At any point, Frankenstein could have taken responsibility for his egregious mistake and informed the authorities of his creation and the fact that his creation had become a threat to those close to Frankenstein. In taking responsibility, he could have saved several lives. But Frankenstein never comes clean, and thus ends up much like the creature: alone, unhappy, and driven by one motivation, revenge. He becomes a reflection of the monster that he had created.

Frankenstein should be a cautionary tale against those who toy with the idea of tinkering with creation. I do not know how it is that we as humans came to be, and I do not know if there is a Creator somewhere out there in whose image we were made. However, I believe there are bounds that we should not cross, and one of those is the line between living and creating life through such artificial means as cloning. Frankenstein warns that attempts by humans to create life could result not only in the creation of monsters, but in the transformation of humans into reflections of their monstrous creations.

Thursday Thirteen #6

13 of My Favorite Books

1) Oryx and Crake, Margaret Atwood
2) Wheel of Time (Series), Robert Jordan
3) Wizard in Glass, Stephen King
4) Gone With The Wind, Margaret Mitchell
5) Watership Down, Richard Adams
6) Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter, Astrid Lindgren
7) Secret of Nimh, Robert C. O’Brien
Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
9) A Song of Ice and Fire (Series), George R.R. Martin
10) Vampire Chronicles, Anne Rice
11) Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien
12) Harry Potter Books, J.K. Rowling
13) Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks

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Two Chill May Days

A relaxing weekend at last. Hallelujah.

Yesterday, I stayed in bed late with Raj, and then the two of us went for a run down along the Hudson River Park. We started at 30th street, ran west towards the river, and then continued South all the way down to Battery Park until we could see the Statue of Liberty. How cool is that? It was a gorgeous day, and hundreds of people were out lazing around on the grassy areas between the piers, and walking, roller-blading, and bike-riding on the trail that runs along the river. In the beginning of the run I thought I was going to die – it was so hot and I was so tired – but I managed to press on and got in a decent work-out.

Here’s a list of my Top 12 Running Songs:

1) I Need A Hero – Bonnie Tyler
2) Numb – Linkin Park
3) Run Rabbit Run – Eminem
4) Take It Off – The Donnas
5) Are You Out There – Dar Williams
6) Dammit - Blink 182
7) You Can Hate Me Now – Nas
In Da Club – 50 Cent
9) Lady Killer – Lush
10) Since You’ve Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson
11) I’m A Survivor – Destiny’s Child
12) Fighter – Christina Aguilera

I challenge anyone to turn these on and not go running. You won’t be able to help yourself. Those are the ones that are in my ipod work-out mix at the moment. Do share if you have others to add.

After the run, I watched the end of Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita, which was nothing like I had expected it to be, but a good movie nonetheless. I expected to see a precocious, highly sexual temptress, and disturbing love scenes between a young girl and an older man. The scenes were disturbing, but not for the reasons I had expected. The man who plays her lover was disturbing because he was a pathetic, controlling lecher. He basically spirits Lolita away after her mother dies, and pursues a highly inappropriate sexual relationship with her. Later, he forbids her from going on dates, doing extracurricular activities, or spending time like a normal teenager because he wants her all to himself, isolated from others her age so that he can keep her trapped in a relationship with him. It was rather revolting. How could he have thought that she loved him, or wanted to be with him? He was at least 30 years older than her.

Lolita herself was no innocent, and she exercised a great deal of control over her relationship with the lecher, but she did nothing blameworthy. While she stayed with him, he fawned over her, bought her whatever she wanted, and took her where ever she wanted to go. She “cheated” on him with several other men, and created elaborate lies to keep him her dedicated servant while she was out satisfying her desires. For duping the lecher, Lolita has been vilified as a temptress. But that vilification is completely misplaced because the lecher had no business being with her in the first place.

It’s crazy that from this movie has endured an image of a precocious female temptress. What should have endured is the image of a pathetic lecher. Clearly, our society is more disturbed, fascinated, and titilated by young girls as sexual beings, than it is revolted by lecherous males praying upon them. By the way, the actress who played Lolita was fantastic.

After Lolita, Raj and I met a friend for a drink at a bar called Heathers. It’s a chill place in the East Village, located behind an unmarked door on 13th street between A and B. I like discovering hidden bars and restaurants. It gives me the illusion of being in the know. So far I’ve “discovered” (i.e., my friends have taken me there) Heathers in the East Village, APT in the Meatpacking District (at 419 West 13th Street), and Passer By, also in the Meatpacking District (at West 15th near 10th). APT is a great place to go if you want to observe the New York scene over wine and cheese. Passer By is a tiny bar with a disco floor made up of lighted colored tiles, where T-shirts and jeans reign supreme, and the bartenders make a mean French Martini.

Speaking of bars, I also recently went to Grotto down in the Lower East Side. It’s at 100 Forsyth Street in a narrow basement space. They have awesome cocktails, including a raspberry mojito made with fresh raspberries. Yum.

Into The Sunshine

It’s a beautiful day, but I’m tired and my head feels groggy. I wanted to stay in bed, surrounded by my fluffy down comforter and pillows, but that’s just because I have a million things to do today, and I don’t want to face any of them. I have to write a brief, go to Home Depot, and maybe go to Storage. The errands could be fun, but having to write a brief while the whole world is enjoying the sunshine outside just sucks. All I want to do is have a picnic outside and read a book. Damn stupid weekend work. I hate living to work.

As an aside, I made some progress yesterday in my months long quest to change. I applied for a job. It’s with a non-profit engaged in women’s rights litigation. It might be pretty awesome, although you never know. I had been putting off applying to other places, in part because of all the moving and relationship chaos that had been absorbing for the last couple months, but also because I’m a little afraid that once I got into what was supposed to be my ideal job, maybe I wouldn’t like it. That thought, or fear, has been holding me back from applying. I’ve found some jobs, but none of them seemed perfect, and I didn’t want to risk that I would get the job, take the job, and then find out that I didn’t like it. What about if I liked it less than my current horrendous position? That would be terrible, if another job made the one I have now look good, and made me wish I had just stuck it out a little longer.

But yesterday, I suddenly realized what I was doing to myself. It dawned on me that ANYTHING would be better than my current position. I wake up with a stomach ache almost every day that I have to go to work. Once Sunday comes, I start feeling ill because the weekend is gone and Monday is coming. No matter what job I do next, it will have to be better than this one. But the thing is, I don’t just want a job that’s a little better than the one I currently have. I want a great job. I want a job that will inspire, challenge, and fulfill me. One in which I can learn a great deal, contribute to social change, and feel proud of the contribution I am making each day.

In addition, a small part of my hesitancy is the money. I would be happy making very little money if I was doing something I trully loved. However, I would not be happy to have a left this job, and the pot of money attached to it, for a job in which I feel like I still am not doing what I love or what I am supposed to be doing. And it’s hard to tell what the position will be like from the outside.

Despite all the over-thinking, yesterday something resolved itself inside of me, and I decided that I needed to start applying. If I stay in this inertia, worrying about what the future will be like, I’m going to wake up a few years from now and still be in this same firm, in this dissatisfied state. That’s not how I want to live my life. It’s too short for that. Plus, we have expert discovery coming up at the end of May in my big-case-that-will-never-ever-go-away. I view expert discovery the same way I view being drawn and quartered over a bed of flaming coals while your finger nails and toe nails are pulled off with pliers – a fate worse than death. And it’s coming. I’ve been dodging and avoiding to the best of my ability, but my time is running out. Even as soon as next week, I might get yanked back into that world. I can feel the anxiety building in my chest just thinking about it.

But getting back to lazing around in bed. Lying in bed is an escapist tactic bound to fail, because ultimately, if I stay in bed the only thing I will accomplish is making myself feel worse about all the things I need to do and still haven’t. Raj tried charmingly and admirably to explain this to me before he left to go for a run outside along the Hudson River. He’s very impressive like that. He’s disciplined, sticks to his work out schedule, does what he wants pretty much all the time, and almost never gets depressed, down, or overwhelmed. We are so different like that.

Although the day is gorgeous, I couldn’t quite bring myself to go running outside. I love being outside, and I love the sunshine, but I’m not a fan of enjoying it through running. I prefer to get my runs completed on treadmills in concrete, manageable doses. On a treadmill you can push yourself and run as hard and for as long as you want and know that you will still end up in the exact same place you started. It’s motivating because you only have something to gain by pushing yourself to go harder. Whereas, when you run outside, who knows what could happen? I could start running, get exhausted, have to stop, and then be miserable because I’ve ended up too far from home. The whole idea of that happening is discouraging and makes me tired just thinking about it.

So now, I have some choices. I could indulge in my desire to procrastinate and push off the world and stay here, have some breakfast and watch some mindless TV, I could go running at the gym and make mysel feel proud, stronger, and better, or I could go do yoga at noon, which would also make me feel like I had accomplished something good for my body and mind. Watching TV, or even reading a book, is probably not the best action. It would be disappointing, and not healthy, and I’m trying to be more healthy. To eat better and to start working out regularly. It’s just so damn hard sometimes. Especially when you feel exhausted.

* * *

Raj just came home. It seems I took up my gym time blogging. Oops. And now it’s noon, and the sun is really shining, and now I definitely don’t want to work (and I definitely don’t want to go the gym – the day is wasting away!). At least not just yet. I’m thinking brunch, coffee, and laying out on a blanket down at Chelsea Piers with my book, “Knife of Dreams.” I can spare a few hours for that, and I can go running tomorrow. Time to have a shower and wake up.